(no subject)
She emerged from Pakku's apartment quite a bit more exhausted than she would have had she been training her students all morning. Her mind reeled from three hours of strenuous memorizing. She had to learn all of the lethal chemicals in the next two days, although nobody had told her why.
Come to think of it... her training had been becoming progressively stranger in the last week or so. Pakku had been requiring her to train late at night, when everyone else in the city was fast asleep. She was bid not to wake any of the citizens as she trained more rigorously than she had before; the lack of sunlight did not make her sessions any easier. Katara groaned as she realized that she'd have to meet her grandfather for further training later tonight.
A short while later, she found herself at the door to her apartment in the Chief's ice palace, unable to recall the trip over. She entered silently--being silent had become second nature-- and deposited her wet parka on the rack near the fireplace. Although it had been dormant when she woke that morning, a servant had come around while she was out and revived the hidden embers and stocked her up on wood for the day.
She placed another log on the cheery flames, and sat on the fur rug in front of the hearth, watching as they slowly consumed their fuel. Her mind drifted over to Zuko, and she wondered idly how he was doing. Probably too busy ruling the ever-powerful Fire Nation to realize what today marks, she thought bitterly. Not that Katara cared. She scoffed to herself, curling up on the rug she sat on, her eyelids drooping even as she fought to keep them open.
"It's a good thing I never have to see him again," she muttered, yawning deeply. "If I did, I wouldn't be able to stop myself from killing him."
-----
Halfway across the world, the Fire Lord did indeed know the importance of the day.
Confined to his regal seat in the main conference room, Zuko had been irritable all day. His ministers knew (and had experienced) his infamous temper, and gossiped about its unusually short fuse during the adjournments; Azula heard what passed behind the pale hands.
She made her way over to her brother and smiled, a sickeningly sweet gesture that was obviously counterfeit. "Fire Lord Zuzu," she called softly. Zuko turned slowly, wary of the woman's intentions. "Let's go for a walk."
Once they were outside, Azula's innocent mask came off and she glared at Zuko, who withered under her gaze. "You need to pull yourself together, brother. If your head is not clear those peons will tear you apart and use your anger against you." Zuko stared at her, his face blank. She was his highest-ranking adviser; she was the most courageous and cunning of all in the land of politics. But he often wondered what her ulterior motives were, for she always had at least one for everything she did.
Azula sighed shortly, her face softening. "Look," she said, softer now. "Everyone knows what today is, and they are all well aware of the toll it takes on you every year. I may not show it much, but I care about you, big brother. You're all the family I've got left."
Zuko's lips displayed the shadow of a smile. "Thanks, Azula. It means a lot coming from you."
"I'm your sister, that's what I'm supposed to be doing." She turned on her heel and started walking back to the conference room. When she turned the corner out of his sight, she made a gagging face and snickered under her breath. "What a weakling."
Once Azula rounded the corner, the Fire Lord buried his face in his hands and sighed. "What a day," he whispered, picking his head up.
He did feel guilty about the Avatar's death. If only he had listened to the waterbender instead of his snake of a sister. The waterbender, what was her name... Katara? Yes, that was it. He knew Katara was very close to the Avatar; if nothing else he had noticed it by the way the child clung to the girl he worshiped, protectively, under the city of Ba Sing Se.
He began to make his way back to his conference room, to face the rest of the day in meetings about their new empire. The war was long since over; the Fire Nation having occupied the rest of the world easily once the City of Walls had fallen. However, everyone was still suffering the after-effects of a century fighting. Ninety percent of the world lived below poverty level, and in remote villages many soldiers had not recieved proper medical treatment when they had returned home. In addition were the rumors of growing dissension in the Earth Kingdom. Zuko knew he had to absolve the issue--if it really existed--before it got out of hand. Without the Earth Kingdom under his hand, they held too much sway over the Water Tribes and no one was ready, nor did anyone want another war.
The Water Tribes... Zuko's mind wandered back to Katara. He wondered how she was faring today, knew that what he was feeling was joy compared to her heart right now. He wondered if she was thinking about him too. Probably not. The last time he had seen her she tried to kill him, fueled by the anger and the deleterious hurt she had been feeling.
He had a sinking suspicion that she would try it again. If she ever saw him again.