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"No lightning?" Zuko called. "Worried I’ll redirect it?"
It was a risky move, and he knew it. But this was one skill Zuko had that he knew Azula didn’t. He couldn’t summon his own lightning. If Iroh knew how, he hadn’t been willing to teach him. But if he could take Azula’s most powerful weapon and turn it against her, the fight would be over.
"You want lightning??" Azula shrieked. "I’ll show you lightning!"
She began to move, working through a set of motions Zuko now found familiar. Bright electric energy sparked around her fingertips.
Zuko leveled his stance. Grounded down through his heels and followed the motion of his breath with his arms. Preparing himself, his body, his chi, to accept and channel an incredible amount of energy.
He was ready.
Azula’s eyes darted to the side.
Katara.
She’d been behind him the whole fight. Out of range but watching. It would break every rule of the Agni Kai for Azula to attack Katara now. An Agni Kai was between two firebenders. No assistance from witnesses, and no endangering them.
But Azula had always played by her own rules.
With a defiant yell, Azula launched a bolt of lightning directly at Katara.
"No!" Zuko shouted, leaping toward it.
If he could just get in front of it, he could still catch it. Still send it away. Somewhere far away from Katara. Even if that somewhere was his own body, it would be worth it.
He fell short.
His outstretched hand fell inches shy of the deadly bolt of energy. He crashed the ground, falling hard. Instinct took over and he rolled as he hit, coming up in a crouch.
Just in time to see Katara take the bolt of lightning straight to the chest.
She screamed. An agonized cry that made Zuko’s blood run cold. She crumpled, collapsing to the ground in a shaking heap.
"Katara!" Zuko’s own scream tore from his throat.
He ran for her. But Azula cackled and threw another bolt of lighting, driving him away from her.
"Awww Zuzu," Azula taunted, "did your little pet waterbender get hurt?"
He rounded on her, throwing his bending at her with all his fury. A series of attacks that were almost too fast to track.
Azula countered them all, laughing.
Zuko reset his stance. He’d been winning just a moment ago. His fear and his fury were making him sloppy.
He took a deep breath, and his anger went cold. A bright, sharp flame at the center of his chest.
He started to move again, and this time his bending was controlled, and it was powerful. Rapid punch followed sweeping kick followed strikes he could perform in his sleep. Azula may have been born lucky, but Zuko had worked for every scrap of his power.
And Agni damn it he would not let Azula hurt anyone he loved ever again.
He swept his arms through the air, and felt a hot, sharp spark of power at his fingertips. He looked at his hand in amazement.
Lightning.
Suddenly he understood why Iroh had been unwilling to teach him. Summoning lighting required anger. It required rage. It required hatred. His uncle was too good a man.
Zuko would never be half the man his uncle was.
He swung his hands through the air in the pattern he’d come to recognize. It was far from perfect form, he was sure. But he felt the power growing at the end of his hand.
Azula stopped. She almost looked amused.
"Does little Zuzu think he can call lightning?" She sneered. Her expression and her voice hardened dangerously, "You haven’t got it in you, brother."
"Want to bet?" He growled.
He repeated the pattern again, and this time there were sparks. Azula’s expression changed to one of fear.
And Zuko leveled his hand at her. A bolt of lightning leapt from his fingertips. He roared with desperate anger, throwing every scrap of himself into the attack.
The lightning took Azula in the gut. She was knocked off her feet and crumpled into the dirt. She did not rise.
Zuko fell to his knees, feeling suddenly drained. He caught himself clumsily on his hands. His fingertips were raw and singed, like he’d been caught playing with a candle flame. He gasped for air as a brutal wave of fatigue washed over him.
He could rest later. He forced himself to his feet and half ran, half stumbled to Katara.
She lay in the dirt, curled in on herself tightly. She was still shaking. Zuko was almost relieved, because that meant she was still alive.
"Katara," his voice broke as he said her name.
"Zuko," hers was barely a whisper and laced through with pain.
He turned her onto her back as gently as he could. She still cried out as he did. She was gasping for every breath, like just breathing hurt. The wound on her chest was bright and hot, a mess of blood and scorch marks.
Zuko froze, his hands hovering over her body. He was no healer. No waterbender. What could he possibly do to help her?
"Katara what do I do?" He asked, his voice cracking traitorously, "What do I do?"
She didn’t respond, just gritted her teeth and squeezed her eyes shut. There was a tightness in Zuko’s chest again, but this time it was fear.
He could stop the bleeding. Protect the burn from the air. He yanked his own shirt off over his head. Folded it down to a manageable size. It was far from perfect, much less clean than he would have wanted, but he pressed it to her wound.
She cried out again, twisting away from the contact.
"I’m so sorry," Zuko said.
He pulled her into his chest.
"Someone get a physician!" He bellowed.
He looked around. The crowd that had gathered for Azula’s coronation had all but scattered. The few that remained were only peeking timidly out from behind the neighboring walls and pillars.
"Someone help me!" He demanded. "Get a physician!"
Katara coughed. A rough, pained, choking sound.
"Katara," he said, "Come on, Katara, you’re going to be ok."
He gathered her into his arms. She moaned and gasped with pain every time he shifted her body. He rose to his feet and held her tightly to his chest.
"You’re going to be ok," he said. "You’re going to be ok. I promise."
He took a few unsteady steps toward the palace. There was barely any strength left in his legs. His arms, holding Katara, trembled.
"I’m going to get you inside," he said through gritted teeth. "We’re going to find a physician. You’re going to be fine. You’ll…"
She’d what? Recover from a lightning wound? The same kind of wound that the Avatar himself had barely survived, and that only because he’d had Katara and the North Pole spirit water?
He reached the stairs. He started to climb.
His legs gave out.
He collapsed on the stairs. He turned to soften Katara’s landing and fell hard on his side. Exhausted and spent, he sat on the steps of the fire nation palace, his palace, and held Katara to his chest.
She was reaching for him. He took her hand tightly in his.
She twisted in his arms, her body in pain having a mind of its own. He cradled her head against his shoulder, trying desperately to hold her steady.
"Someone get help!" He called. He didn’t dare try to move her again.
Katara’s breath rattled in her chest.
"Zuko…?" She breathed his name.
"Katara," he said, her name on his lips like a sob, "Katara I’m so sorry. You’re going to be ok. I’m so sorry."
It was his fault. He had brought her here. He’d put her in harms way. He hadn’t even thought to try to teach her to redirect lighting. It came from a waterbending technique. She probably could have done it if he’d just…
Zuko cried out in grief and anger and clutched Katara to his chest. He held her so tightly that he could feel the shudder of her chest with each breath she took.
And he felt the moment when they stopped.
"Katara?" He said, putting a hand on her face.
Her head tipped back against his arm, lifeless. Her deep blue eyes half open, glassy.
"No," he said. "No no no no no!"
She couldn’t be. Not Katara. She was stronger than all of the rest of them put together. She couldn’t be gone. Not Katara. Not like this.
Zuko lowered his forehead to hers and broke down in wrenching, heaving sobs. He held Katara’s body and howled at the sky, as the dusky glow of Sozin’s Comet faded away, and the sky returned to its soft, watery blue.
- - - - -
Later, Zuko would be hard pressed to remember what happened next. How he’d blindly tried to attack the first people who’d approached him and Katara on the stairs. How a physician in white robes had finally arrived in front of them with a stretcher. How the woman and several healers had coaxed Katara’s body from his arms and helped the both of them inside. How they’d put a salve on his singed hands -such a meaningless amount of pain, but they’d done it anyway- and pressed a cup of tea into his hands that he didn’t drink. How they’d laid Katara out on one of their beds like they intended to care for her. How he refused to leave her side. How he felt like a cracked piece of ceramic, and the wrong touch would shatter him to pieces.
The tea in his hands went cold, and they brought him another. They stayed at his side until he drank.
Sedative, he thought as he finally drained the cup. Or maybe it was just exhaustion.
Either way, there was no fight left in him as a healer guided him to one of the infirmary beds. He could still see Katara, and that was all that mattered. Someone removed his boots and put a warm robe over his shoulders.
Zuko fell into bed, pulled his knees into his chest, and fell into a dreamless sleep.
- - - - -
He awoke feeling dazed, exhausted, and hollow. A healer moved slowly around the room -that must have been what woke him- setting down a tray of tea and a change of clothes. He bowed deeply to Zuko and retreated without a word.
Zuko made himself get up. He reached for the tea mostly out of habit.
Katara still lay in the bed opposite his. Someone had cleaned and wrapped her wound, burying the awfulness of it under layers of white bandages. Washed the blood and ash from her face.
He fell into the chair at her bedside. It was as if someone had cut all the strings that held him together. He couldn’t move. He could barely think.
There was no way to know how much time passed before there was a knock on the door, but the cup of tea in his hand had gone cold again. Two people entered the room, the healer from yesterday, and Jin, a high-ranking member of the Fire Lord’s council.
"Fire Lord," Jin said, bowing to him.
Right. He was Fire Lord now. He felt nothing.
The healer took his teacup and replaced it with a fresh one.
"Drink," she said, a soft, motherly hand on his shoulder.
He obeyed.
"You have visitors, your highness," Jin said. "The flying bison has returned."
Appa? Returned? Where had he gone?
"A small group," Jin went on, "it appears to be the Avatar and his companions."
Zuko got to his feet. He had to tell them. He had to tell them first before they saw Katara like this. He nodded his thanks to Jin and reached for the provided clothes.
"Before you go, my lord," Jin said, "there is the matter of…the other body."
Zuko froze.
"As her kin," Jin went on, "we await your instructions about her remains."
Azula. The knot in his chest twisted a little tighter.
"Prepare her for a burial worthy of a Fire Princess," Zuko said, his voice toneless and strained.
"Yes, my lord," Jin said, bowing again. "The Avatar is in the main courtyard."
And he left. Zuko dressed in a daze. He looked over at Katara again and immediately wished he hadn’t. It made the sharp edges of his pain flare to life again. Tears welled in his eyes and he made no move to stop them.
He crossed to her bedside and squeezed her hand. It was cold to the touch. The cracks in his chest widened dangerously.
"Your brother is here," he said to her. "And our friends. I’m…I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you."
He dropped her hand, forcefully brushing his eyes clean before he could shatter again. He swept out of the room, making for the courtyard.
They were all there, with Appa. Aang and Toph and Suki and Sokka. Sokka was leaning on a crutch, but otherwise they all seemed perfectly fine. Laughing and chattering with each other. They seemed…happy.
"Zuko!" It was Toph who ran to him first, throwing her arms around his waist. He caught her on instinct.
"We did it!" Aang said, rushing up, Suki close on his heels and Sokka hobbling behind her. "We defeated the Fire Lord!"
"And the White Lotus retook Ba Sing Se!" Toph exclaimed.
"Did you win?" Suki asked, "did you beat Azula?"
"Well he hasn’t been fried to a crisp, so I think it’s safe to say he won!" Toph said with a chuckle, elbowing him playfully in the ribs.
Zuko said nothing, but he felt tears pressing at his eyes again.
It was Sokka who noticed first, shuffling up to the group on his crutch.
"Zuko. Where’s Katara?" He asked.
"She…" he couldn’t look Sokka in the eye, "she… Azula…"
"Is she hurt?" Suki asked, fear filling her eyes.
Zuko shook his head, "She…"
He forced himself to look at Sokka. And Zuko saw in his eyes that he’d already guessed the truth.
"She…" Zuko’s voice broke. He tried again. "She’s gone, Sokka. I’m… so sorry."
Zuko saw the same expression on Sokka’s face that he felt in his own body: a shattering grief so deep it couldn’t be looked at directly, or you would collapse and maybe never rise again.
"What?" Suki asked, disbelieving.
"Azula," Zuko said. "She was supposed to be fighting me but she went for Katara. I… I couldn’t stop it."
Toph threw her arms around Zuko again, but instead of celebration, this hug conveyed her grief. Aang’s face crumpled in sadness. Suki, eyes brimming with tears, reached for Sokka, but he shrugged her off.
"Can I see her?" He asked.
Zuko nodded, and led the way back into the palace, through the maze of hallways that led to the infirmary. When he reached the room where Katara lay, he went inside with Sokka. Suki, Aang, and Toph waited outside, giving them a moment to themselves.
Sokka hobbled to the bedside where Katara lay. Zuko pulled out the chair there and Sokka collapsed into it. Zuko stepped back to give Sokka space. He stared at his sister with a tight, stony expression. Zuko knew Sokka well enough to see how hard he was fighting for control. He didn’t touch her, as if touching her would make all of it real.
"How did it happen?" He asked.
"Azula challenged me to an Agni Kai," Zuko said, his voice thick in his throat. "But then she attacked Katara. With…with lightning."
He saw Sokka swallow.
"I tried to stop her," Zuko said. "I just couldn’t…I wasn’t fast enough. I couldn’t save her."
A tear slipped from the corner of Sokka’s eye. He wiped it away angrily.
"Was she in pain?" He asked.
Zuko thought about lying, about softening the blow, but couldn’t bring himself to lie to Sokka. He nodded.
Sokka’s chin trembled, "was she alone?"
Zuko shook his head. No. At least she hadn’t been alone.
Sokka put his hands down on the bed and broke down in sobs, doubled over in grief. His hands closed around one of Katara’s. Zuko put a firm hand on Sokka’s shoulder as it shook. A pitiful gesture in the face of so much hurt, but all he could do. And he was going to do everything that he could possibly do.
He fought to steady his own breaths as Sokka cried. Zuko let him cry until he was spent.
Sokka cleared his throat, "Is Azula…"
"Dead," Zuko told him.
That would be its own complicated parcel of grief. But for another day.
Sokka gave a firm nod. He took a shuddering breath and ran a hand over his sister’s hair.
"You should have her necklace," Zuko heard himself saying. "It belonged to your mother."
Sokka brushed at his eyes again. His hands shook as he leaned over Katara and removed the necklace from around her neck. He held it in his hands for a long moment. Then he held it out to Zuko.
"Here," he said.
Zuko recoiled, "No, I couldn’t."
"You should have it," Sokka insisted, though he didn’t look at Zuko as he did. "Katara and I… she… We talked about you. A few days before the comet. She… she would want you to have it."
Zuko couldn’t breathe around the knot in his throat, "…Are you sure?"
"Please just take it," Sokka said, desperately.
Zuko took it. He held the pendant tightly in his palm. He put his other hand on Sokka’s shoulder again. Another small sob escaped from Sokka.
"Can I have a minute?" Sokka asked, his eyes squeezed tightly shut. "Alone?"
"I…Of course."
He squeezed Sokka’s shoulder. And he left.
Zuko barreled past Suki, Toph, and Aang, rushing down the hall, ignoring them as they called after him. He didn’t stop until he reached the central gardens. He fell to his knees in front of the turtleduck pond, Katara’s necklace still in his hand.
And he shattered.
Every scrap of grief, of anger, of furious self-loathing, gathered in his chest, choking him. He made no effort to control his tears or his sobs. Doubled over, his grief poured from him.
The band of Katara’s necklace was wrapped around his wrist, and he clutched the pendant in his hand. Much like he’d done when he’d first found it on the deck of a prison ship, a few months and several lifetimes ago.
Why had he done that? Why had he insisted on wearing his then-enemy’s necklace around his wrist?
Maybe because, even then, he’d recognized her unique strength. Seen everything that made Katara the incredible person she was. Even when only viewing her as a worthy opponent, he’d recognized his equal when he saw her. Even then, he’d known he’d met his match.
He held the necklace to his chest and sobbed.
The next thing he was aware of was a soft hand in his shoulder. He flinched, startled. But when he looked up, it was Uncle Iroh.
"Zuko," Uncle said softly, holding out his arms.
Zuko fell into them, clinging to his Uncle in a way he hadn’t since he was a child. He buried his head in his Uncle’s shoulder. Iroh stroked his back soothingly, silent as Zuko cried out what was left of his tears.
"No words of wisdom, Uncle?" He gasped out. He could really use some of Uncle Iroh’s wisdom right now.
Uncle was crying too, Zuko realized as he looked up at him. Iroh just shook his head, chin bowed almost to his chest.
"There is no wisdom for this," Iroh said. "You must simply feel it, and let it pass."
Zuko’s eyes welled again. Every time he thought he’d run dry of tears, somehow he found another reservoir. He brushed at them angrily.
He opened his hand to look at her necklace. He’d been gripping it so tightly the carvings had left an indent in his palm. Seeing the necklace, Iroh’s eyes softened with sympathy again.
"What do you want to do, my boy?" Iroh asked
Zuko’s hand closed around the pendant.
"I want to make sure the Fire Nation never harms an innocent person ever again."
- - - - -
Fire Nation history books would later remark on how swiftly and resolutely Zuko seized power. With a will and an authority that no one dared challenge. How he ransacked his father’s councils and power structures, removing anyone too loyal to the old ideas from their post without remorse.
How he ordered the immediate and complete retreat of any soldiers stationed outside the Fire Nation, no matter what city they occupied or what mission they’d been sent out on. The generals that refused him were executed. The rest accepted his authority quickly.
Eventually Zuko would soften again, turning his efforts toward rebuilding the honor of his nation. Toward building friendships with the other nations however he could. Making the Fire Nation a better place, like he’d dreamed of doing as a boy.
But at the first, those that spoke of their new young Fire Lord did so in hushed tones. Not out of fear. Even in his ruthless efficiency, he was no tyrant like Ozai. But out of the quiet discomfort that came from not knowing what to say. Of knowing by sight that he was a man desperately trying to right a wrong he could never correct.
And if anyone noticed the water tribe pendant under his clothing, the one that he wore around his wrist at every waking moment, no one asked, because they already knew.