Warning:
This is the epilogue to As the Sun, an AU that diverges rapidly from canon.
It contains spoilers.
Read it first, or proceed with caution.

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(radiant)

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Keep your distance. She's perfectly safe in eyeshot of that friend of hers, but from what I heard, one man in Lajiao had too many drinks ... She didn't even turn around and he went up like a torch.

Oh, it was over in a couple seconds. He was barely singed. But they say before she put him out, she just listened to him scream for a while.

What else d'you expect from a spirit? You know what she did to her own father.

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"The guards tell me you've been terribly busy," Azula says lightly, stepping into the cell.

Ozai spreads his empty hands in a gesture of innocence. "Your brother's actions are none of my doing. If the new Fire Lord needs advice on running a country, who am I to deny my own son?"

One probable truth and one truthless question; Ozai's difficult to read even with seismic sense, but he doesn't need to know that.

"What did he ask?" Azula says, playing with a handful of water between her palms, the darting shapes suggesting blades. Ozai eyes her warily. "Not advice, I think."

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"I never realized the Fire Nation had built so many colonies in the Earth Kingdom," Katara says, running a finger over the paper coast.

"They're a constant reminder of the war, like an old scar," Kuei says, frowning. A moment later his eyes widen behind his thick glasses. "I meant nothing personal!"

Zuko doesn't turn away from the map. If this had been back in the Capital, the words would have been personal, deliberately mocking. That sort of joke never runs dry with the Court jackals.

But this is bookish Earth King Kuei, as subtle as his pet bear, so Zuko only says, "No, you're right. After all the pain my father has caused, it's my duty to bring healing to the world. I'll do whatever it takes."

"Removing the colonies will be disruptive," Azula says, a tone of warning in her voice. "They've belonged to the Fire Nation for generations."

"They belong to the Earth Kingdom!" snaps Kuei, uncharacteristically angry, but the color fades from his cheeks when Azula spears him with a single judgmental glare.

"You really have no idea what's been going on outside your Palace," she says scathingly. "Colonial governors have controlled the coast for over a century. Most of the original settlers have benefitted enormously from Fire Nation rule."

"Avatar Azula, King Kuei, neither of you know the colonies outside of books," Zuko says, his firmness almost as surprising as his insolence. "I spent three years traveling them. Many are neither Earth Kingdom nor Fire Nation. With all due respect, this is more complicated than you think."

"Look, there's gotta be a compromise," Sokka says reasonably. "Maybe the new colonies should be reintegrated into the Earth Kingdom, and the older ones can stay Fire Nation."

Kuei wavers. "After the defeat of Chin the Conqueror, the occupied territories were all returned to their rightful owners ..."

"That was a long time ago," Katara says. "If things are different now, maybe history from books isn't enough, Your Majesty."

Spoken like a true barbarian; probably never opened a book in her life, Azula thinks, rolling her eyes, but the young Earth King seems willing to listen.

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Something about Lin's gait is completely wrong, but it's not until she focuses hard on the vibrations—the weight too light for the amount of armor she's wearing, and the fluttering beat of muscle tensed to exhaustion—that Azula realizes Lin's metalbending herself.

"You should be in a wheelchair at least," she says in an undertone, once the conversation drifts away from their end of the room. "What happened to your crutches?" The Grand Secretariat shoots her a glare.

"I'm fine," Lin says stiffly. Her bad leg is encased in a steel column, admitting no flaw. "I don't have time to look weak. Teaching the Dai Li to metalbend is hard enough as it is."

Azula frowns, but recognizes the stubborn look in her eye and changes the subject.

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"Since when do you hold tea parties so late at night?" Azula asks, dropping without warning from the sky. Zuko flinches so badly the pot falls to the stone and shatters, tea and porcelain flying everywhere.

"What are you doing here, Azula?" he snaps, trying not to seem guilty and failing.

"Looking for you. I wonder why you're looking for Ozai."

"I am not!"

She doesn't even need seismic sense to catch that one, so Azula looks at him, eyebrow raised, until he huffs, "None of your business."

Her temper rages in the blink of an eye. "Our mother," she seethes, "is absolutely my business, and if you'd asked I would have helped find her. There's an entire room of her things in the Palace—a shirshu could get her scent anywhere."

"You think I've haven't tried that? Nothing's worked. Ozai is the only one we can ask," Zuko snarls, sparks flashing from his hands. Sloppy control, as always—but there's something else, something about the way he latched so eagerly onto her distraction, and her mind cools immediately.

"That's not why you're here," Azula says, eyes turning sharp, dissecting. "... You really are lost if you're going to him for help."

"I don't need you to tell me what to do."

"You don't need him to tell you, either. You could ask Mai. Or Iroh. Or whoever else was hiding you here."

Zuko shakes his head in frustration. "He was the Fire Lord; he's the only one who understands—"

"Ozai understands how to rule the Fire Nation with an iron fist and conquer the Earth Kingdom. I don't think he'll be any help," Azula says shortly. "Besides, if you don't tell her, Mai's going to kill you." The humor of the thought sinks in and she giggles. "Or take away your bending. She really would."

The look on his face tells her she wasn't supposed to laugh.

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Defying all logic, The Jasmine Dragon hosts a lively collection of expatriates and tea-lovers in the middle of the city where Iroh's hated most. In a blinding fit of hubris—or insanity—he hasn't even bothered to change his name.

Their heavily-scarred waiter was apparently hired in the middle of a back-alley assassination attempt. Iroh laughs as he tells the story, the waiter looks sheepish, and the others stare openmouthed. Azula and Zuko exchange exasperated glances.

That's what family should be like, she thinks, watching Uncle Iroh engulf Zuko in a bear hug. Knowing each others' stories. Trusting.

The warm weight of Iroh's hand on her shoulder catches her by surprise.

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The west wing of the Palace hovers like a dark cloud, guarded at all times by Imperial Firebenders. The noblewoman on the other side never stirs from her rooms, nor requests an audience with the new Fire Lord, who's all too happy to ignore her.

Mai handles the spies' reports, but they're as tedious as one might expect from house arrest. Zuko manages to forget that she exists, for a few months at least.

Without warning, the early morning quiet is pierced by the wail of a newborn baby.

The request for an audience follows scant hours later. The fire before the throne hides the Fire Lord's expression, but her eyes seem to mock him, even through the flames. "The Sages agree. He will be declared Crown Prince immediately. No other members of the Royal Family qualify."

Zuko looks at the red face of his half-brother and can say nothing but a stiff and insincere "Congratulations." He dismisses them almost immediately, trying not to look at the viper smile that seems to linger long after she is gone.

War Minister Toza says quietly, "You know what must be done."

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"You could find a discreet assassin or two."

"I'll execute the double agents in her retinue who were passing us false information. But the child ... I don't think you mean that."

"I ... Fine, but that idealism is going to get us in trouble."

"All we can do is keep them under house arrest, limit them to the west wing, away from conspirators—"

"Won't help if she's determined. Triple your security. Mai's too. If he takes the throne now, she'll be Regent."

"Sometimes I hate our family."

"Oh, always."

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"Fire Lord Zuko and Lady Mai, it is an honor—please, sit," Mayor Morishita says, kowtowing as they take their places. The wealth of Yu Dao visibly pervades his home, from local metalwork to imported silk.

"Forgive Kori's enthusiasm," Lady Morishita says, giving Kori a significant look. "She only felt that a messenger hawk would not appropriately convey the seriousness of our situation."

"Enthusiasm is one word for it," Mai says dryly, recalling the desperation with which the earthbender fought her way into the audience chamber.

The teenager bows, her face faintly red. "My apologies ... I thought that because the other colonies were being uprooted, you would need to be convinced to defend us."

"That's why I've come." Zuko lifts his teacup, but doesn't drink. "Tell me about these protesters."

Morishita begins, "They're far more dangerous than mere protesters. They call themselves 'Freedom Fighters,' and they're being led by a man named Jet ..."

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Lin regards the Fire Lord before her with a hint of disdain. The bored girl beside him practically glitters in her earth sight; she decides not to tell her how easily a wrist-holstered dagger can be turned against its owner.

Not that King Kuei exactly inspires awe in all who behold him, but she is Earth Kingdom to the bones. Lin is strictly unimpressed by the young upstart who mouths platitudes but leaves imperialists on Earth Kingdom shores under some supposed "protectorate." Kuei's will or not, she's not helping arrest any freedom fighters.

Until, that is, she sees him cross blades with a teenage boy.

The whine of arrows makes Lin react by instinct, the steel arrowheads sinking into the dirt as if drawn by lodestone. Her men are immediately engulfed by a wave of attacking children, movement stumbled by uncertainty.

"Restrain them!" she roars, dodging a blow from a heavy club, and the iron discipline of the Dai Li snaps into motion. Children tumble to the ground as wrists and ankles lock together in metal cuffs, screaming but completely unhurt. Mai's needles catch arrows mid-flight before a Dai Li agent captures the archer.

The Fire Lord and the rebel leader are locked in ferocious battle, steel flashing, and she almost snaps, That is a child; are you blind?

But the ground tells her otherwise: the strain of Zuko's muscles holding back, awkwardly turning killing moves into disarming ones, even as the hook swords turn more and more vicious. Words out of earshot hum through the ground: the families you've destroyed—Please, stop this, we can talk—Yeah right! Go on, burn me—

Lin suddenly realizes that under the ragged clothes, Jet has covered himself in explosives.

From there she acts on instinct, hands and feet moving with perfect clarity. The hook swords jerk out of his grip, catching him by surprise, and in two brutal movements, Jet sinks neck-deep in enough dirt to immobilize every finger and suffocate any sparkrock.

Zuko sighs with impossible weariness when the trapped rebel only starts screaming obscenities ("You traitorous collaborator harlot!") but Lin shuts her ears and stalks forward.

"Watch your mouth. Your mother would be ashamed," she snaps, stomping the ground with one heel. The earth yields him up, hands still encased in a column of stone, so that Lin can snarl at him face-to-face. "The war is over. Don't you dare start another one."

Jet spits in her face.

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"Look, Azula, I don't think I have to tell you how important this meeting is. Everyone's sent a delegation except Foggy Swamp and Si Wong. Don't say anything that could be construed as imperialistic. It's embarrassing."

"That was one time! It ended up well; now Kuei likes you more than me."

"He'd better, because I have to convince him to accept a sovereign nation stealing his coastline."

"With Fire Nation technology, the United Nations'll do a better job with sea trade than Kuei ever could. Have you ever seen an Earth Kingdom barge?"

"That's exactly what not to say."

"Fine, Zuzu. Anything to please His Majesty the Fire Lord."

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"Unless I'm very much mistaken, you don't belong here," Ozai says, amused, but he doesn't call for the guards, either.

"A thousand pardons, my lord," the servant says, prostrating himself before the cell as if it were a throne. "We wish only for you to acknowledge the legitimacy of your son. Many of the truly loyal will honor your words."

The disgraced ruler laughs shortly. "Zuko has already shown how little he cares for my blessing."

"Your other son."

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Azula curls up lazily in the ornate chair, letting her legs dangle over the armrest. "Terrible replica, by the way," she says lightly. "Real thrones don't look quite so stupid."

The crime lord has only a moment to get over his shock before a flutter of movement behind him cuts off his bending. Ty Lee smiles unapologetically and locks the door.

Azula hops out of the tacky throne and grabs the man by the front of his shirt. "I hoped you might be a loyalist with a grudge, but seems like you're just a common thug trying to prey on my city. You call yourselves 'Agni Kais'? You pitiful excuse for a firebender, you wouldn't know an honorable duel if it punched you in the face."

She bloodies his nose with her fist. "I challenge you to a real Agni Kai. You'll at least have a minuscule chance of surviving. If you don't want to play, I'll make immediate arrangements for your funeral."

"I ain't scared of you," he snarls, the effect ruined by the stream of blood cascading down his front.

Azula looks delighted. "You should be."

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"The Northern Water Tribe envoy claims his nation has nothing to do with these raiders, but the Water Tribes have supported them in the past, directly and indirectly," the fleet commander says.

"Find me proof, Admiral, and I'll see to it."

"As you wish. On another point—if I may speak freely, my lord?"

"Please," Zuko says.

"They're using the same tactics as the North on the Day of Black Sun. Our battleships and merchant vessels are completely vulnerable; we must start manufacturing redesigned ships," he says, words quick and professional.

"We've already sworn to the other nations ..."

"The disarmament treaty prevents the Navy from being able to protect our people, my lord. Peace is one thing. Letting criminals run amok is another."

He frowns, but doesn't dispute it. From behind the curtain of fire, the Fire Lord says, "Your words will be considered. You are dismissed, Admiral."

The door closes. A moment passes.

"Azula, you can't just eavesdrop on private audiences."

"Bad habit," she says, falling from the ceiling.

"It was you, wasn't it? You taught the waterbenders how to destroy our ships," Zuko says accusingly, unable to keep his temper in check. "Maybe you forgot while you were planning how to defeat us, but the Fire Nation is made of islands. No sea trade means no trade, period."

Azula observes his growing fury with amusement. "If it's my fault, it's my game. I'll just teach them a lesson they won't forget," she says, tossing her cloak back with a mockingly gallant air.

"Try not to give them any other national secrets while you're there," he snaps, still annoyed, but his little sister only laughs before slipping away.

"Don't worry, Zuko. I'll save you from the pirates."

The Fire Lord groans and buries his head in his hands.

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The Avatar chases whims and rumors across the world, an uncontrollable force flickering from one interest to another. The sandbenders teach her to fight malicious desert spirits with incense and calligraphy; she sets aside her skepticism to speak to the verdant, ancient heart of Foggy Swamp. She dances with Ran and Shao once more, and ignores Lin's lectures on vigilantism to chase down criminals evading the metalbender police.

The Fire Palace still welcomes her presence, but more and more often, she steps into other nations: appeasing scorched forest spirits in the western Earth Kingdom, dealing with warring airbender factions, or helping Katara carve the new Southern Water Tribe from the ice.

The unique colors of the nations resonate along the chain of her past, a strange and aching harmony. People are at once kin and enemy. Ultimately, as the lifetimes blur, they become nothing more or less than human.

In the eerie warmth of the Spirit Oasis, Tui and La do not acknowledge her as she sits beside them, as it should be. Azula watches their slow cycling for long minutes before silently getting up and leaving again.

"Did you find what you were looking for?" Ty Lee asks, dancing lightly over icy railings.

"I don't know. Let's keep looking."

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