Flint and Spark [6/???]

[gaisce]

Title: Flint and Spark
Series: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Content tags: Azula/Toph Beifong, post-series, slowburn (emphasis on burn), bonding through property damage
Summary: Five years after Sozin’s Comet, a tenuous balance is on the brink of collapse. A Southern Water Tribe diplomatic envoy disappears in the middle of negotiations with the Fire Nation and Earth Kingdom. Each side blames the other, ready to send the nations back to war. Toph can stop the conspiracy, but with her only help being the manipulative exile, Princess Azula, her enemies may not be the biggest problem.

Or, Toph and Azula go on a Life Changing Field Trip.

Song flinched as another jar tumbled to the ground. “I told you, I’ll fix your injuries, but you can’t go around destroying the medicine I’ll need to help do that!”

“Then give me something that actually works!” growled the bandit, spitting the concoction onto the floor next to the fallen container. Flecks of the paste caught in his beard and he wiped at it with the back of his hand. “This just tastes bad.”

“You’re not supposed to swallow the salve,” Song protested in a faint but firm voice. She wanted to do more than scold him, but the knife between his fingers threatened a worse response than merely complaining about the taste.

“What about this one? Huh?” He grabbed another container and pried it open with the tip of the blade, sending the lid clattering. He stuck his face into the opening and recoiled. “Ugh, it stinks.”

“Lay off, Nadai,” the other bandit said. His height was a head and a half above Song’s, and he loomed over her along with his even taller bo staff. “You heard what she said, you could be breaking what we want.”

Nadai sucked his teeth in annoyance, and a slight whistle came through the space where the enamel of one had broken off. He tossed the open jar back onto the table, chastened to not break anything else, but not enough to treat her materials with any care. “That one was useless. And there’s too many jars to go through.”

“That’s what the healer’s for, idiot,” he turned to Song with a smirk. It was not friendly but it wasn’t as menacing as his partner’s. “This guy got a rock to the jaw but he’s acting like it hit him in the skull.”

Song felt her throat go dry, preventing her from asking what she was for if not to treat his injury. When they forced themselves through the clinic door, they seemed more interested in her wares than any help or advice she could offer. She parted her lips, because this was the time to make her appeal, and he might listen because he wasn’t fidgeting with agitation and unspoken demands the way Nadai was. If she could only speak, she could convince him he didn’t need to hold a weapon over her head to receive her help.

“Shut up, Deng!” Nadai said, making a rude gesture at him then beckoning Song immediately after, pointing to his mouth. “C’mon then, doc. Gimme your strongest stuff. I can take it.”

Song closed her eyes, trying to calm herself and perhaps calm him down by her example. She had just taken a step forward when she heard the creak of the clinic’s outer floorboards, announcing a visitor.

Deng heard it too, and the casual grip on his staff tightened as he shifted away from the entrance.

Song watched Mei Li bound up the steps, the girl’s momentum slowing down to a stroll as she approached. If it were a real emergency she would have kept her quick pace, Song was certain, but there was a sense it was more than a social visit. She couldn’t imagine what would bring her back so soon and without her friend.

“Hello, is anyone here?” Azula asked out loud as she crossed the threshold.

“I’m with a patient!” Song called back, louder than she meant to. But now that she found her voice she wouldn’t passively stand by and allow Mei Li to fall into the same danger. Casting a pleading look at Deng, she tried to keep her tone steady and normal. “Could you come back later?”

Azula stepped forward as if she hadn’t heard properly, her face a curated mask of bewilderment, even as her eyes surreptitiously scanned the room for enemies. She pretended not to notice the one who moved out of her sight as she approached, even though he was the opponent she was most wary of. The one on the exam table was nursing his jaw in agitation and he didn’t bother to hide himself, not when he was in the perfect position within arm’s reach of Song. Feigning ignorance, she kept her gaze on this irritated patient and the knife he had not bothered to hide, his carelessness making it harder for her to pretend to be oblivious and at ease. Then she addressed Song: “I’m afraid it can’t wait.”

“I was here first,” Nadai growled, leaning forward to block Song from Azula.

“Is it an emergency?” Azula asked.

The bandit’s grimace went slack with confusion. “What?”

“Your injury,” she continued, “How serious is it? Because I came on an urgent matter, and your condition doesn’t look serious.”

Nadai rose from the exam table. “Are you kidding me, girl?”

“Please, don’t—” Song started.

“I’m not,” Azula said evenly, using his outburst as an excuse to take a quarter step back and turn just enough so she could take in more of the room in her periphery. “If you want something to dull your pain, it would suit both of us if you stayed in the clinic and I took the healer with me. You need her medicine, I need her expertise.”

“I’m afraid the injury is more serious than that. But I will come right after I finish helping him,” Song said with a firmness that Azula might have respected if she were the type to follow the orders of backwoods physicians.

Their gazes met, and Azula could see how much Song was silently begging her to go, her lips twisted in unspoken warnings. There was fear in her eyes, and it was strange how noticeably different the expression was when it was on her behalf and not at her cause. Azula sighed inwardly. This bandit was too reckless and too stupid to properly manipulate in the way that would have allowed them to leave without a fight. Further complicated by Song, who was behaving just as recklessly by trying to get in between them.

“In that case,” said Azula, taking another side step so she was now within lunging distance. “I’ll wait then.”

The healer gave one shake of her head, a sudden instinctive move, but it seemed to be her last gesture of warning as the bandit lifted up the blade, whatever hope of feigned ignorance disappearing as he announced his intentions.

“She’s not going anywhere,” said Nadai, gripping the knife in his hand. “And neither are you.”

Song turned to him. “Please! You don’t need to do that! I already said I would treat you!”

She looked ready to say more, but a sharp sound of wood slamming on wood made her startle as the lanky bandit blocked the doorway with his staff.

“Both of you stay where you are,” said Deng.

Azula had been expecting such a reveal and was already positioned to take either one of them out. In fact, she was currently deciding which one to attack first. But caution made her pause, so she spread her hands in a gesture of surrender.

Song also held her hands up, hers reaching out to Deng in an effort to placate. “She has nothing to do with this...”

He gave one shake of his head, almost as if in apology. “Too late now. She might talk.”

“What if I promised not to say anything?” Azula asked, just to see how he would react. Or, more importantly, how Song would.

“She won’t,” she insisted, looking to Azula for confirmation and finding an inscrutable gaze staring back at her. “Please, let her go so she can at least find help somewhere else.”

“We can’t trust that,” Deng said. And it was the only statement she heard so far that had some sense behind it.

A pity he was still underestimating her.

As Deng stood guard in front of the exit, Azula determined the time for negotiation attempts was over. She would have to act. And, with no way to communicate her intent to the healer and dealing with two opponents diametrically positioned, she had to pursue a more inelegant tactic.

Nadai slid from the examination table, presumably to seize Song so she could finish whatever impractical demands he was expecting of her. His mouth opened to spout off some command but was cut short as Azula kicked him so hard that he slammed spine first into the table edge. The bandit managed to keep hold of his weapon, some instinct deeper than the pain telling him to retain his grip. But Azula’s solution was a simple one, which was to cause even more pain so that he would be completely overwhelmed. She did a sweep kick to fully unbalance him, then brought the table down onto his arm in one smooth movement.

“Mei Li! Watch out!”

Azula’s head jerked back just as Deng swung his staff where her face was a split second before. Spinning on her heel, she brought her other leg up into a tornado kick, driving the staff into the ground and stepping on it to deliver a knee into his face. There was a grinding of bone as his jaw clacked against his teeth and he fell.

Azula struck him in the throat with her heel as she landed. Deng choked, his arms raised as he tried to shield his face, which left her with an unprotected torso to deliver another kick to the pit of his stomach. All three attacks seemed to happen at once, a relentless chain of fighting prowess, and he curled up defensively to stave off what surely must be an imminent follow through.

Instead, Azula found the staff, rolled it on her foot and then kicked it up into her hands. She turned to glance at Song from her periphery before focusing her attention back to the original target: Nadai and his knife.

“How are your injuries now?” she asked, a taunt hidden in the banal question.

Nadai struggled back onto his feet. He used the fallen table’s edge to prop himself up and gave her a hateful stare. “You…”

Azula tipped the edge of the staff until it was under Deng’s throat, pressing against the softness of his neck. “Not as bad as his will be if you continue.”

In normal circumstances, this strategy would have worked. Taking out the superior fighter then using them as a hostage would force their companions to surrender. However, the mercenaries seemed to have no allegiance to each other, and, worse yet, Song had no sense to leave while Azula was providing a perfectly good avenue of escape.

“Song,” Azula ordered, her gaze meaningfully flicking from her to the open entrance. “Go.”

From beneath the poised bo staff, Deng groaned in pain, some words approximating a call for mercy. The noise made Song hesitate. Just long enough for Nadai to lurch to his feet.

Having to make an instantaneous decision, Azula brought the staff down on Deng’s throat, choking off his plea and his breathing. Then she swung upward, breaking his nose and knocking him unconscious. Dispatching the enemy at hand was a prudent strategy, but she was not fighting alongside trained soldiers. She was performing a brutal act of violence in front of someone who spent her life struggling to rehabilitate the harm people like Azula so casually inflicted. So when Azula took a step forward to warn her away from the bandit, Song seemed to forget the threat was anything other than this stranger before her. The healer flinched, recoiling, the one motion taking her away from Azula’s grasp and into Nadai, who seized her with one hand and yanked her in front of him.

“Drop it!” Nadai yelled, pressing the edge of the knife against Song’s throat.

Dutifully, Azula dropped the staff, letting it clatter over its unresponsive owner. It wasn’t as if she had a purpose for it any longer.

With a grunt, the bandit yanked Song towards the door that Deng had once barricaded, abandoning his ally. His movements were made clumsy by haste, and by Song’s refusal to be thrown about like some straw doll even as she complied with his retreat. Azula stayed her hand as Nadai dragged his hostage out of the clinic. She preferred to see what he would do with more avenues of escape, if his increase in choices would confuse and delay any recklessness that creatures pressed into a corner often displayed.

And, she waited because she could not predict what Song would do if she made a move.

“Follow us and I’ll slit her throat!” Nadai yelled.

“Stop,” Azula said, her voice an unyielding command. “You don’t want to do that. Because once you do, you’ll have no defense against me.” She advanced in a slow, deliberate way, testing him to see if he would retreat or redouble his threats. “And you didn’t mean for this to happen…”

He stepped back, twisting Song’s arm behind her body to try and demonstrate his willingness to harm her. “Shut up!”

“You were hired to fight the Blind Bandit,” Azula said calmly, adjusting the cuff of one iron manacle. “The fact that you took the job tells me that you’re incredibly foolish, but it could be mere shortsightedness. If I’m being generous, you may have known it was a fight you couldn’t win, but thought the Avatar’s earthbending mentor shared his weakness in refusing to kill, and whatever payment offered was worth the broken bones, am I correct?”

Nadai pressed his blade closer to Song’s throat. His eyes peered between the loose strands of her hair and her collar, the rest of him almost completely hidden by the healer’s body. “Back away. I’m warning you!”

“And I’m trying to give you the same courtesy of a warning. This client of yours told you to fight the world’s most formidable earthbender and you agreed. But did they tell you about her companion?” Azula’s eyes flashed dangerously, anticipating the response. “About me?”

Nadai said nothing, but he didn’t need to speak for Azula to know that he was clueless. The fear he was displaying was that of the unknown threat, its energies stoked by her how unperturbed she was at his brandished weapon and how unmoved she appeared at his hostage’s distress. Normally, this would be an advantage for her to take him by surprise, but not in these circumstances. Surprise could lead to a knife in Song’s throat and a messy, albeit short, fight. She needed him to be more than scared of her, frightened of what she could do; she needed him to know what she had done so he would be absolutely petrified.

Flames alighted between her fingers, threading up her hands. The play of fire cast ominous flickering shadows over her face, framed by the black of her bangs and anchored by the dark intent of her eyes. A smile split her face, and the calm demeanor burned away into an expression of unhinged, imminent violence.

“I am Fire Lord Ozai’s daughter, the mad princess of the Fire Nation,” she taunted, raising one blazing hand up to point at him. “Do you think I will be so merciful?”

Years in prison being denied her firebending had atrophied much of her skills, which she realized with the amount of effort it took to maintain her flames even as Toph’s blunted manacles grazed against her chi points. But it never dulled her cruelty, as demonstrated by the marauder’s slow dawning horror then quickly consuming panic, shoving Song in her path before he spun around and catapulted himself away with his bending.

Song stumbled to the ground. Azula made no move to catch her because any touch would likely burn the healer from the heat of her metal band, or at least inventing that as the pretense for why she didn’t.

“Go home,” Azula ordered as she sidestepped the fallen body. “I’m going after that one.”

Her focus entirely on the retreating bandit, she was caught by surprise when she felt a snag. Looking down, the firebender saw that Song had propped herself on one elbow and had grabbed a fist of Azula’s clothing in her other hand. The same fear and revulsion she savored in the bandit’s face made Song’s look unrecognizable, and Azula reminded herself that’s why she didn’t want to catch her, didn’t want to look—

“Please don’t.”

“Let go of me,” said Azula, her voice once again calm but with an annoyed edge to it. “He’s getting away!”

“Don’t kill him,” she whispered, her hand trembling so much that Azula could feel the tremors through her pant’s leg. There were tears in her eyes, and Azula couldn’t discern if she was truly afraid for her own safety or a ridiculously misplaced compassion for a marauder that would have stabbed her without a second thought. It was folly, Song protecting worthless brutes from her, knowing she was a far more dangerous threat, yet acting as if she could be pleaded with.

Azula pulled away, her face an inscrutable mask. “Don’t worry, I was lying.”

She did not say what was the lie, or if it all was. Even now. But Song had no chance to ask because the firebender abandoned her without a second glance.

---

“Was wondering when you’d show up,” Toph said by way of greeting, keeping her back to Azula as she continued to sweep away traces that the campsite was once a battleground. Her voice was casual, but there was a grunt at the end of it as she used her earthbending to fill up another mercenary-sized hole.

Azula suspected the grunt wasn’t because of strain. “There’s no itinerary for chasing down fugitives,” she said as she dumped Nadai onto the ground without ceremony or consideration. The bandit’s unconscious form was breathing but unresponsive, and there were faint tendrils of smoke coming from him.

Finishing her task, Toph turned to face Azula and wrinkled her nose, sniffing at the charred remains of his beard. “I thought you wouldn’t need to do that.”

She had released the chi blocks on Azula’s cuffs with the promise that firebending would be used as a last resort, one Azula didn’t need when fighting Yan’s second in command but apparently thought was necessary on the grunt footsoldier who had lost teeth in his last scuffle. Toph knelt to check his vital signs. Once she determined he was only suffering from a concussion, and whatever burns were limited to his clothing and hair, she fastened his wrists with the last of her leftover metal. Briefly, she debated if she also needed a gag, but he wasn’t in any condition to speak. Even the shallow whistle of his broken tooth seemed to be muted.

“I wanted to,” Azula responded curtly. Then, almost as if debating with herself, added, “He was there when I arrived. I had to frighten them before it got out of hand.”

“Them?” Toph echoed, her eyebrows raised in disbelief.

“There were two bandits,” Azula said, which was a response to the question but didn’t actually address who she meant. “The other is at the clinic, incapacitated. And don’t look so pinched-face. Song didn’t have a scratch on her when I left.”

“You left her?” Toph echoed again, wondering what part of ‘help Song’ Azula seemed to misunderstand.

“Yes, to capture this one,” she said and gestured to the body as if Toph had suddenly forgotten and this momentary oversight was why she was upset with her.

Toph rubbed the bridge of her nose. Whatever relief she felt at Azula’s return was immediately ruined by Azula being herself. Unfortunately, she was also right. If Song was out of immediate danger, taking down the escaping bandit was the most important priority. Their goal was to capture the daofei and they couldn’t let a single one escape, especially if that bandit knew Toph was travelling with someone else. Someone who could firebend.

“Ugh, okay…” Toph sighed, refusing to admit Azula had a point. “That’s something to deal with later. Right now, we have to sort the ones we’ve captured. We’ll keep this guy separate,” Toph said in reference to Nadai, thinking it would be best to isolate him so he didn’t tattle to his fellow criminals. “Stash him someplace before the others get back.”

At the mention of others, Azula looked around. Her heated discussion with Toph seemed to have made her forget they didn’t come by themselves. “Where’s Hok?”

“He’s fetching his caravan buddies. I told him to go round up the villagers to help clear the camp.”

“You let him go too?” Azula asked, as if Hok were in the same category of dangerous war criminal in need of supervision.

“Yeah, clean up is the worst part. Do you want to be the only one helping me carry these smelly bandits back and forth?” Toph asked, knowing that would really get to her. The aroma of burnt hair was worse than simple dirt and sweat, but if Azula thought Toph’s uncleanliness was disgusting then she would do anything to avoid touching twenty grown men who had forgotten more manners than just bathing and brushing their teeth.

Azula recoiled slightly, as if Toph were already shoving something under her nose. “That was not part of our agreement.”

“You agreed to ‘take care’ of the daofei. Finding a place to dump them is part of that deal. But suit yourself!” Toph shrugged with exaggerated nonchalance. “If you don’t help me you won’t get to be around when we start the interrogations.”

“Interrogation?”

“Oh, now I’ve got your attention,” Toph said reproachfully.

“Because you finally said something interesting. You should let me talk to them,” she said, her voice reaching for civility. “I’m much more persuasive than you.”

Toph made a hawking sound in the back of her throat to cover up the laugh. “First, unless you put in the grunt work and help me drag ‘em into a holding pen, you aren’t getting near anybody to ask. Second, no. Maybe you’re good at telling lies, but I’m great at reading lies. I’ll ask the questions.”

Azula looked askance, resisting the urge to point out Toph’s readings were imperfect if she could still deceive her. Instead she gave a more conciliatory offer, “Even more reason to let me do it. That way you can pay full attention to their responses.”

Toph stopped to consider the proposal. From a tactical standpoint, it made sense. Yet she still remembered the only time they truly spoke to each other before this was during the Day of Black Sun, when Azula goaded them into fighting her by mentioning her ‘favorite prisoner.’ Someone who just so happened to be one of the people they were trying to find now. As much as she didn’t want to, Toph had to push aside her unease, accepting she would have to work with Suki’s former inquisitor if she was to have any hope of finding Suki again.

“I get first crack. You might get a turn when I say so,” Toph said, holding up a finger to point at Azula’s face. “And you said persuasion. Not torture. If you have to resort to firebending, just tell me you’re not good enough and I'll take over again. I didn’t release your bending just to stand by while you burn somebody’s face off.”

“I singed his beard as a warning,” Azula said in her defense, casting a disdainful gaze down at Nadai’s body. “The rest of his face is, unfortunately for him, his own.”

“Some warning.”

“This is the same brute you had no problem crushing with a rock the day before.”

“Because I’m Toph Beifong, the wandering hero of the Earth Kingdom, whose mere presence is a warning to all criminals,” Toph gloated, but the jovial tone faded from her voice as she continued, “And you’re supposed to be my childhood friend who isn’t secretly a pyromaniac.”

Azula’s jaw flexed, implying she was biting words back. It was a gesture most people wouldn’t see but Toph noticed the slight tension. Unfortunately, knowing Azula was keeping something from her was meaningless with so many unspoken secrets hidden behind the thin lipped scowl.

“Got something to say?” the earthbender probed, crossing her arms.

The tension in Azula’s body shifted somewhat, in a way that didn’t abate but dispersed it so the pressure was no longer concentrated in one place. This was the same Azula from the woods yesterday, right before she bolted. “You just said you were a warning to criminals. But you don’t intimidate or threaten those who aren’t. There are even those who find your presence a comfort…”

Toph inclined her head. She knew Azula was talking about Song. “What can I say? I’ve got a friendly face.”

“And I am a warning to everyone.” Azula exhaled, something in her easing to the surface. “Good, bad, indifferent. The fear I inspire in others is indiscriminate. Which makes it more effective.”

Toph let her arms fall to her sides, but the persistent feeling that this still was related to whatever happened during Song’s rescue kept her from being truly at ease. Still, she was learning the best way to undermine Azula’s attempts at intimidation was refusing to treat it seriously, so she shrugged. “Effective at scaring people, maybe. But that’s a last resort. It’s hard to get someone to talk if they’re too busy crying and pissing themselves. So we’re going to start with the easy way. Asking nicely.” Azula cast a dubious look in Toph’s direction and the earthbender laughed. “Nice by my standards at least…”

---

Toph stomped on the ground to bring Fixed Glare Yan up from where she buried him. Despite his lucky hit on her, Yan fell easily once Toph overwhelmed him with the sheer force of her earthbending. A boomeranging rock made little difference against an entire wall of boulders when everything was said and done. But he was the leader and the most likely source of information, so she did her best to make sure she captured him without knocking him senseless.

She metalbent the mask from his mouth and leaned over. “Who are you working for?”

“I’m not allowed to tell you without breaking the contract. Daofei have some code, Bandit,” he sneered. Apparently he found her use of the title to be disrespectful to his honest trade of stealing and killing.

“Then break your contract or I start breaking bones,” Toph said impatiently, squeezing his iron restraints for emphasis. “Your crew can tell you I’m real good at it.”

Yan’s breathing grew a little unsteady, bracing himself for the threat. He knew she could easily crush him, but he remained defiant. “I’m not giving up the one who hired us.”

“Why? If somebody goes out of their way to hire a whole gang of bandits just to get my attention, it seems like they’d want to make some proper introductions. Was that a specific condition on getting the gig, no questions asked…?” She focused on his breathing, waiting for a sign to tell her yes or no. “Or you just like playing coy?”

“Look, I don’t know where he is. He’s the one who found me,” Yan said with as much of a shrug as he could muster since his arms were pinned to his sides. Definitely playing coy, but it was also the truth. He didn’t know where this mysterious patron was, an ignorance he emphasized by saying, “But if I did, I wouldn’t tell you.”

That part was a lie. The faint tremor—so slight it was undetectable by normal senses—informed her that he was bluffing, and the truth was simply a matter of finding the right method to uncover it.

“Last chance to do this the easy way,” Toph said, cracking her knuckles. “Tell me whatever you do know. It’ll be shorter than asking you a bunch of questions and shaking you like an empty coin purse to see if anything falls out.”

“I got nothing to say to you,” Yan grumbled.

Toph could squeeze his rib cage like wringing out a wet cloth, but she knew that wasn’t the fastest way to make him talk. He had probably suffered countless injuries like broken legs and busted noses before. Sure, she could eventually break him down, or manipulate his bravado into giving away more information, but it was an unpleasant endurance test and time was of the essence. They were already outmaneuvered once before, and any delays might keep their mysterious opponent out of reach. Which unfortunately meant she would have to let Azula have her turn for more expedient results.

She really wished she could have convinced him to skip the messy part for both their sakes.

“How about telling me?” a voice cut through the standoff, as Azula made her presence known.

The firebender approached the imprisoned daofei leader, filling the space Toph left for her. “Hello, Yan. I heard you don’t like to be referred to in such a familiar way, but since you’re soon going to be losing that Fixed Glare part of your name, I thought we’d start from scratch.” And, as if to emphasize her point, Azula drew one of her nails down the bandit’s cheek to tilt his head up in her direction. “You see, if you don’t tell us who hired you, your usefulness becomes less about what you can do and what I can do to you.”

Yan sneered, but Toph felt the man’s heartbeat hasten against his chest, fear seeping through him in a way that already surpassed whatever she had previously instilled in him. He suspected she might rough him up, but he was convinced Azula would do it, and much worse.

And Azula was eager to fulfill that promise. “You see, back during the war, Fire Nation soldiers would practice interrogating prisoners without leaving burn scars. They took forever to heal, making it difficult for prisoners to stay focused. One enterprising admiral even managed to blind a prisoner by only burning off his eyebrows and eyelashes. I think we can improve on that record…” a small jet of flame sparked in between her fingers and Toph heard Fixed Glare Yan hold back a noise of protest, his fear turning into surprised terror. “What do you think?”

“I can’t tell you…” the bandit leader swore, his voice reaching past his interrogator.

Toph knew he was pleading to her. Maybe he was hoping for some earthbender solidarity. More likely it was because, as someone whose life was made of cutthroat decisions, he recognized the firebender’s remorselessness. Toph kept her expression impassive, waiting in case there was a moment where she would absolutely have to intercede, but holding firm until then.

Azula seemed to take the tension and draw it out in her favor. The exiled princess shook her head ruefully. “I know my associate made the blind warrior into an enviable reputation, but, let’s admit the truth: you’ll never be a match for her. So what do you say, Yan? Or do you still want to be called Fixed Glare?”

Yan jerked his face as far away from Azula as he could. “I only met him twice, okay?! He just went by the name Lee! Everybody goes by the name Lee!”

“A physical description would be useful,” Azula said, tilting her head in consideration. She tapped her thumb against each finger as if counting down, flickers of light dancing at each contact. “Prove to me how worthwhile your eyes are by telling me what he looks like.”

Now that his code of silence had been broken, Yan had no further defense to keep him from selling the mysterious broker out. “Tall as me, well-dressed looking guy. Like upper or middle rings from Ba Sing Se, but he’s been in the sun a lot and has a beard.”

Azula kept her attention on Fixed Glare Yan as she turned her body slightly towards Toph, extending her hand as if to prompt for her cooperation. Without having to think much on it, Toph picked up what she was asking for and began to earthbend a life sized statue of the supposed Lee.

“Thicker nose,” Yan said with Azula’s prompting. “Taller.”

Toph widened the bridge of the nose, and continued to shave off or extend the statue’s features according to the bandit’s description. She listened attentively to make sure he wasn’t using the ease of his confession to slip a lie in between other details, but it never seemed to occur to him. Probably because he knew such petty resistance would have consequences worse than his unsalvaged pride.

Once the statue was complete, Toph didn’t know who was more relieved when Fixed Glare Yan finished his confession: the bandit who cried because he still had functioning tear ducts, or the way her own tension released after she spent the whole interrogation with her fingers poised to fasten Azula’s chi blocks at a moment’s notice.

“Does that look right?” Azula asked, equal parts to the daofei leader and Toph.

“That’s him,” Yan nodded, and his head sagged with the effort. Now that he had been beaten, both physically and emotionally, he seemed resigned to his imprisonment.

Toph committed the statue to memory. Obviously she wouldn’t be able to get an accurate read on his movements and weight, which were the easiest indicators for her senses to pick up, but this was better than just an obviously false name. Azula also took the time to appraise the stone replica, even pacing around it as if to view the creation from every angle. When she was finished she gave a brisk nod, signaling to Toph that it could be destroyed.

Toph ignored her, stepping back to kneel in front of Yan’s bowed head. “Why did you attack the old koala sheep farmer?”

He was already exhausted, but his heartbeat and breathing didn’t alter when he answered the question. “The old man was the target. We were supposed to silence him and wreck everything that looked important.”

“Important like what?” Toph pressed, thinking of the folded paper hidden beneath her tunic.

“I don’t know,” he said, too traumatized to lie. “I don’t need to tell my crew how to ransack a place, they just do it. Anything not nailed down, anything that looked like it could be useful, we destroyed.”

Since they missed the pai sho tile, Toph felt a small sliver of hope. Either this Lee person didn’t trust them enough to provide specific instructions, or they didn’t know what to look for. Either way, it meant she might have salvaged something meaningful. Even if she failed to save the most important thing.

“Did he tell you anything else about his plans?”

“Nothing,” Yan said, and gave Azula a mistrustful scowl. “I swear.”

Yan’s genuine surprise at the firebender’s appearance was more evidence that Azula was uninvolved and this gang was used purely for distraction and destruction. The mysterious broker, Lee, gave the daofei the limited instructions and then treated them like expendable scraps. However, Toph’s years of fighting made her certain that he would not have neglected to mention another formidable bender if they were meant to properly delay her. So either Lee had no idea that Azula was with her, or firmly believed the Fire Nation princess would never agree to an alliance, rendering her presence as immaterial.

The earthbender collapsed the statue with one gesture, trying not to let her frustration show. She would never admit it out loud, but it seemed that Azula was right. Ally or enemy, she was a necessary weapon beyond this scuffle, and might be the only surprise she had hidden in her inventory if they were ever going to get to the bottom of this mystery.

Toph was about to press the bandit for more details when she heard—or, more accurately, felt—Hok’s return with a handful of villagers and two carts. With a flick of her wrist she refastened the metal mask that kept Yan from speaking and left to intercept them in the center of camp. Azula, whose presence had been so intensely intimidating just a moment before, receded into the background as wordlessly as Toph’s abrupt change of focus. Toph kept her seismic senses trained on her as she greeted the newcomers with what, she hoped, looked like her full and unharried attention.

“You’ve saved us twice over now!” Goong exclaimed and threw his arms open. Briefly, Toph worried he might try to hug her, but it seemed the rotund merchant was just given to dramatic gestures. “I can’t believe these thieves were so close to our homes.”

“They might’ve wanted a second chance at the caravan goods,” Hok suggested.

“I can think of a few reasons why they decided to come here,” Toph said, and turned her face toward Hok, which made him snap his jaw shut.

Goong nodded. “Unfortunately, we’re an easy target since we’re still recovering from their first attack. But when Hok told us you needed help, all the other merchants answered your call.”

He wasn’t exaggerating, as Toph recognized the gait and voices of the other villagers matched her memories of the caravan attack, although the boy who asked about her name was not present and probably deemed too young to help. Goong set them to work, directing the drivers of the wagons to start finding the heavy items and loading them in a tight configuration. Toph counted it a minor victory that she wouldn’t have to supervise them while they rounded up any weapons and spoils left from their fight.

“Now then,” Goong said as he redirected his attention to her. “Whatever journey you were on has led you to crossing paths with us twice. That’s more than just luck! This time you’ll really have to let us repay you. We can throw you a banquet or—”

“Please,” Hok added, and his voice sounded pathetically grateful. “We really would like to do something for you, for...everything…”

Toph started to protest, but stopped as she suddenly thought of something she wanted. Except it wasn’t something she could ask for directly, so she had to play the situation right.

“Hey, it wasn’t just me. Goong, did I tell you about how your son was involved with this whole deal about the bandits?” Toph said and she felt Hok’s heart stop completely.

“No. All he told me is that you had fought them and wanted our help. We came directly here,” the merchant said, casting a confused look to his son. “Hok?”

“I had just finished tracking them when I came to your shop,” Toph said, paying attention to Hok’s nerves, using them as directional guides for what she would choose to do next. “When I explained why I needed all your scrap metal to capture them, he agreed to help. He also offered to scout the place out, even though it was dangerous. I said I could handle it alone but he told me he wanted to make it up to me.” Toph directed her sightless gaze on the young merchant. “You remember, for the time you asked me to repair your cart…”

Hok seemed about ready to faint, not helped as Goong turned around and gave him a fierce one armed hug, proudly declaring, “That’s my boy! Honest and helpful!”

“I-I’m…” Hok stammered.

“Probably still a little stunned,” Toph offered, tapping Hok’s other shoulder and resting her knuckles against him for a second before pulling back. “Going into your first fight and all. But at least everything turned out okay. But, Hok, I hope this is the last time you ever have to deal with daofei.”

All Hok could do was nod dumbly.

“I’ll do my best to make sure of that,” said Goong with paternal fierceness, then turned to put both hands on Hok’s shoulders as he addressed him. “I know things have been hard for us lately. You probably didn’t want to worry me and your mother, but I don’t want you going off like that by yourself!” He cleared his throat, smiling apologetically at Toph. “Not that I’m discounting you, Master Toph. I know you were keeping him safe, but a parent worries and…”

“No offense taken,” Toph said, her confident smile turning bittersweet at the edges.

Goong pulled back from Hok and tugged at his beard, worrying his hair in a physical gesture for the way his heart was worrying for his son. It was an obvious giveaway of his emotional state, but the elder merchant didn’t try to hide his feelings. And it seemed to be why Hok was so vulnerable about his father, as the young man blinked back tears and said, “I...only wanted to keep you safe. I’m sorry if I didn’t do it the right way.”

“Ah,” he huffed, “As long as you’re not hurt.”

Toph had given up on waiting for the right moment to excuse herself, as the conversation grew more heartfelt and left her feeling more like an intruder. So she cleared her throat and said, “Okay then, I’m going to leave you to it.” Then left the villagers to finish their work.

Deciding that if she was going to have an awkward conversation, it might as well be a productive one, Toph went to check in on Azula. The firebender was keeping out of sight, and Toph imagined the only reason she could find her so easily is because she didn’t bother to hide her restless pacing.

“We should move on. Interrogating the other bandits would be pointless,” Azula said, picking up their conversation as if they were never interrupted. “Yan barely knew enough to fill out a wanted poster. And the rest don’t strike me as particularly observant.”

“Eager to leave? And here I thought you were having fun at the interrogations,” Toph said dryly.

Azula cast a glance behind Toph, back to the center of the camp and the bustle of the villagers. “It’s always satisfying to be proven right.”

Toph crossed her arms, not wanting to give Azula more of an opportunity to gloat. “If you want to move faster, Hok and the others have plenty of things to do.”

At his name, her already stern expression deepened. “He’s not worried his little arrangement will be uncovered.”

“Nope. I told his old man that Hok was working with me the whole time to help take the daofei down, and, since we’re keeping them quiet because of your flare up with that one guy and Yan, those bandits won’t contradict me.”

Azula made a disapproving face, one that normal people would have when you admitted to lying, but this was obviously a different reason. “You’re letting him take the credit?”

“It’s not like I need more fame,” Toph shrugged, knowing that Azula didn’t care for accolades either. At least not while she was technically a fugitive. “He wants his dad’s respect. Sometimes treating a person like they’re better than how they’ve been acting makes them try to meet your expectations. If Hok has people believing he’s a hero, maybe he’ll think twice before doing something to disappoint them.”

Toph meant it to be an explanation of why she let Hok off the hook, that she hadn’t actually forgiven him for double crossing her. But it only seemed to vex Azula more.

The firebender thrust her hands out, her palms turned upwards. “You sound like my fuddy duddy uncle.”

While obviously meant to be an insult, Toph chose to take it as a compliment. And since Iroh would have gracefully declined to take the bait, she instead asked, “What’re you doing?”

Azula flexed her fingers, inspecting her nails with great intensity. “Waiting for you to put the restraints back on. Before I’m tempted to do something we’ll both regret.”

---

She wound the reins tightly in her hand, flexing her grip so she could feel the creak of the leather straps as they stretched over her knuckles. That brief freedom from the chi blocking cuffs made her nerves tingle with long forgotten potential, but, now that they had returned, her wrists and hands felt numb again, unmoored and not fully part of her.

“As you see, dividing the spoils of the daofei camp means your share is—no, that won’t work.” Azula halted her rehearsal, scowling at how stilted her delivery was.

In exchange for the willing return to the restraints that delineated them as warden and prisoner, Toph seemed to relax her overzealous need to keep Azula within striking distance, letting the firebender cool her heels elsewhere while she remained at the camp. If Azula were a gullible person, she might assume it was a gesture of trust. But she wasn’t. It was obvious that Toph was doing damage control, and keeping her from the villagers would be better for everyone.

“I found this on the road and—” she stopped again and shook her head. “That’s too obvious...”

Which left Azula to her own devices and resulted in her being caught in the current predicament: practicing speeches on an empty road, her only audience an ostrich horse.

She tried again, gesturing to the creature. “This animal is your payment for rendering assistance. If you wish to keep it, you’ll remain quiet about my identity and—ugh, why is this so difficult?!”

It began as a taunt. Having agreed to temporarily part ways, Azula found an ostrich horse from the bandits’ corral and unwound the reins from its post with a deliberate slowness that dared the earthbender to yank them from her hand. Even as she checked the tack and inspected its feathers, her attention was trained for a sign that Toph had retracted her decision, and would quickly imprison her again as punishment for trying to escape.

Instead, the blind girl only came over to give the ostrich horse a reassuring pat, as if taunting Azula back by only paying attention to the animal, even as the other girl studiously prepared it for riding. Then, almost like an afterthought, Toph asked where she was going. And, of course, Azula lied, because that’s what the princess was good at. But she began with the truth, explaining how she was going to use the ostrich horse to find the other bandit she left at the clinic and bring him back. A believable motive, because Azula was meticulous and hated leaving loose ends.

What made the lie convincing also made it true, because she was seeking to tie up a loose end, one Azula hadn’t told Toph in full detail. She would find the unconscious staff wielding bandit and return him, then go onto her true errand of finding Song. Her reluctant ally knew Azula had revealed herself as a firebender, but she didn’t know Azula had given away her whole identity. And that meant she was also unaware how badly Song had taken it.

Truthfully, Azula didn’t know either.

“This isn’t working,” the exile said under her breath. Second guessing plagued her thoughts and eroded the confident cadence of her words. Revealing her true identity was the reason why she was in this predicament, so perhaps adopting the mannerisms of someone else would be the best way to deceive her way out of it. After all, Song had found “Mei Li” to be a helpful guest and assistant, she could simply explain that the ruthless display before was an act.

Azula waved to her pretend audience, feigning a non-threatening awkwardness and pitching her voice lower. “Hello, Azula here. I got this ostrich horse for you. It’s a gift so you won’t be mad at me anymore. I know that we set plenty of villages on fire during the war, but a lot of them were accidents. And now I’m a reformed Loser Lord who wants to make the Fire Nation a kinder, gentler place. So if you promise not to tell anyone I was here, I can go on helping the Avatar’s friend. Which is just like helping the Avatar, who I’m friends with now, because I am a good person.”

She retched, unable to keep up the pretense any longer. Lying might come as second nature to her, but that was painful. From behind her, the ostrich horse made a chuffing noise, as if agreeing that her performance was less than convincing.

She tugged sharply on the reins. “I didn’t ask for your opinion.”

Impersonating Zuko was a miserable failure but she still needed a persona to guide her. Idly, she thought of adopting Aang’s. Song was a true believer of the Avatar, so it would make sense that he would be the best one to imitate to regain some of her goodwill, but that seemed too extreme a shift. She might be gullible and painfully optimistic, in Azula’s estimation, but Song wasn’t a complete idiot.

Her thoughts turned to Toph, and their last conversation that rankled more than when she was intentionally being annoying. Toph was not as fastidious about honor and honesty as the others in her group, which made her marginally more tolerable. The earthbender had also lied to give a false impression, but in her case it was used to cover up Hok’s transgressions and try to coerce him into better behavior. Azula knew firsthand just how demanding living up to someone’s expectations could be, but she felt that tactic was wasted on such a weak and self-serving coward. Even if he genuinely wanted to change, he would disappoint his father soon enough.

Azula blinked, not knowing where the sudden flare of emotion came from and tamping it down quickly. She didn’t know why it angered her so much that Toph was willing to give the young merchant a second chance, but it did. And perhaps that anger was why Toph didn’t try to stop her when she took the ostrich horse.

The animal, sensing Azula’s preoccupation, bent its head down to graze at the grass alongside the path. She studied its large black eyes, reflecting instincts that could not discern belonging to a ruthless bandit or a gentle healer. It had no comprehension for what to think of Azula except to follow her direction, because she held the reins that dictated where it should go. So if she took the ostrich horse right now and disappeared into the wilderness, there would be nothing stopping her…

Azula held out the leather straps, trying to imitate Toph’s cavalier attitude. “Here. This is for you. We took your food and medicine, so you can take this as our way of saying thanks.” The simple brusqueness worked in her favor. And, unlike her brother’s imitation, it didn’t make Azula’s skin crawl with self-loathing. Continuing her trek, she thought perhaps a direct approach of offering it as compensation for previous aid might seem less sinister than a gift with strings—or reins—attached.

---

The healer met her out at the engawa, like diplomats who convened at neutral ports as part of their compromise. Song’s posture was not defensive but still tense, blocking Azula from the entrance where she once was so warmly welcomed.

"Song," Azula smiled, but it was thin-lipped and careful not to show teeth. “I see you made it back without further problems.”

“Mei—what do you want?” Song asked. Her voice had drifted into something only half-familiar. A sincere question for what help could be offered, but there was also a defensiveness behind it, clipping short the warmth and harrying the request.

Azula spread her hands out as a gesture of peace. “I’m here on an errand. A real one this time. I’ve come to tell you we’ve routed the daofei gang.”

Song’s eyes widened. “Is everyone…” Her breath caught in her throat, worry stricken over her features. “You're okay?"

Azula nodded. The fear and discomfort was something she was used to navigating, the concern was a novelty. “Toph’s unharmed, but had to use her earthbending and, unfortunately, that ruined your careful bandaging.”

“Somehow I knew that wouldn’t last long,” Song said. It was the ghost of an attempt at her lighthearted scolding, undercut by the way her fingers were worrying the folds of her hanbok.

Azula remembered that hand daring to hold her back. She resisted the urge to close her own hands from their position as open palms, knowing it would irritate the newly refastened chi blocks. And it could be misconstrued as a threat. “Everyone is alive,” she said, irritated that it felt like conceding something. “But if you see fit to give those criminals aid, their injuries come from bruises they got for intercepting rocks and scrapes for trying to wriggle out of their restraints.”

Song gave Azula an appraising glance, still wary. “I don’t know if we have much left. With the clinic wrecked, and…Hok!” Song stopped, her obvious reticence at being near Azula vanished with the mention of the merchant. “He was supposed to take the supplies, is he—?”

“He’s fine,” Azula said evenly. “You can meet him at the camp and see for yourself. If you decide to go.”

Song cast a glance back into the hallways of her home, and Azula caught the meaning immediately. She was worried about her mother, and likely hadn’t said anything about how her daughter had been held hostage just a couple hours earlier. Which meant she hadn’t told her about Azula either. “I will, it’s just that…”

Impatient with the healer’s skittishness, Azula took a step forward—ignoring how it made the other girl retreat—then thrust out the leather reins.

“You once harbored some refugees and they repaid your generosity by stealing your ostrich horse,” Azula said, standing still with her arm the only thing reaching into the distance between them. “Consider this as the payment overdue. We may be ill-mannered guests but we are not ingrates.”

“I—I couldn’t,” Song stuttered, staring at Azula’s proffered hand like she had fire in it instead of a gift. “Thank you, but…”

“Why not?” Azula asked impatiently.

Song shook her head, keeping her gaze low. “It belongs to those bandits.”

“Who will be indisposed as they rot in a jail for the foreseeable future,” Azula said, her hand not moving from where it was outstretched. She frowned as Song continued to stand still and stricken. “They likely stole the animal in the first place, I don’t see why you’re making a big deal out of it.”

“You don’t know why?” Song asked, finally daring to look Azula in the eyes.

“If you’re concerned they’ll take it back, there are ways to keep that from happening.”

“No!” Song said and immediately flinched at her own outburst, but Azula didn’t react to it. Taking a breath, she tried to compose herself. “I don’t mean about the ostrich horse. I can see you’re trying to…to be generous. And, please, I am grateful for the gesture, but…”

“But?”

“I can’t accept it,” Song said softly, and meant more than just the animal.

Azula’s eyes narrowed, just once, and for the briefest second she let her disappointment show. “I see,” she said, withdrawing her hand; something that Song flinched at too, although less noticeably, “that you would prefer not to have an escort, but will you be coming to tend to the others?”

“I’ll come. I just need some time to…collect myself.”

Even though Song had the height of the engawa, she still seemed cowed by Azula. It frustrated the princess, because she was behaving exactly how people used to act around her, which meant she knew exactly how to push her, but fear had lost its reliability as a method of control and she had nothing else half as convincing. Also she had spent all that effort saving her life, so it would be idiotic to undo her work by threatening it, especially since it would also permanently undo whatever cooperative ground she had gained with Toph.

“Song,” she said, striving to sound more like the blind earthbender, crass and forthright yet something halfway understandable to what Azula’s true self was. “You can’t tell anyone.”

It wasn’t a threat. Or, at least, it wasn’t being conveyed as a threat. More an ominous statement of fact.

“I wouldn’t…” Song said, taking a step back. But it was the kind of promise someone would only give to appease the person asking, the oaths of fearful soldiers and helpless prisoners. The kind of promise Azula had heard so many times to know it was meaningless once the hand was drawn back from the throat.

Azula looked down, not trusting her eyes to keep from flaring with menace. “Ask Toph Beifong if you must. But if you’re worried about the threat I might pose, think how much worse it will be if word gets out and it sets off a war.” She dared a glance up. “Because it will. And the Avatar will be accused of starting it because he was the one who took me out of the Fire Nation and left me in the care of his close friend and earthbending teacher.”

Azula wasn’t sure how involved Aang was in her release. But it didn’t matter because Toph was inextricably tangled up with her fate, and that would be enough excuse for any of the factions that still harbored grudges against the Avatar to declare a new war against him. Perhaps threats were still the best way to gain agreement, it just didn’t have to be directly from her.

The healer closed her eyes in thought, or maybe in the way children do to hide themselves from things they fear, then she opened them and stared at Azula. “Please, don’t. You don’t need to explain yourself. I wasn’t going to tell anyone, not even my mother. Which is why…” she trailed off.

“Why she’s inside,” Azula finished for her. “And why the sudden appearance of an ostrich horse would require an explanation you’re not prepared to give.”

Grateful for the excuse, Song nodded. “I swear, I wasn’t going to say a word about who you are. Even if you didn’t come back.”

Azula knew this is when she should express gratitude. Toph would do it with a simple acknowledgement. Her brother would probably get down on his knees like some groveling peasant. Aang would smile and his thanks would make anyone else feel like they needed to shower him with even more appreciation. But she had exhausted herself by denying everything that came naturally or easily to her, and could only offer a stiff nod in return.

“I’ll tell them to expect you.”

She left Song behind, the ostrich horse plodding behind her and defeat weighing down on her shoulders. In spite of five years in prison, Azula could not remember ever being refused, probably because she was too prideful to ask for anything so it could not be denied to her.

Instead, her memory conjured up Ty Lee’s cheerful hug, the enthusiasm at seeing her old childhood friend that only faltered slightly when she tried to insist the circus was her true calling, hoping Azula would understand if she didn’t come along on her quest. Azula also remembered the black fire lilies she gave her after the show, a gift to soften her threats as she burned the safety net, released the animals, and terrorized the circus master so much he would never take Ty Lee back even if she insisted on staying.

But she didn’t. She put her crown aside and smiled at Azula’s reflection, saying that she would come, she would follow her anywhere. And, at the time, Azula thought she had handled everything very neatly.

The ostrich horse stopped and the reins went taut, breaking Azula out of her reverie. She turned her frustration on it, as the creature shifted from one clawed foot to the other but giving no discernable reason why it was hesitating. They were coming up to the fence that marked the property’s boundaries, and Azula could still see the pillars and eaves of the house behind her, where Song and her mother stayed in their little happy lives. So maybe the ostrich horse wasn’t so mindless, because it seemed to prefer the grass of their yard than whatever journey Azula was offering. Holding back the same way Ty Lee did and breathed a sigh of relief when one of the porters told her the animals had all been safely brought back after their release, her last tether to the circus severed as Azula ushered her away.

Whatever placid domestication that sustained the ostrich horse through the earthbending battle seemed to vanish as it shied from her, resisting her once she began tying the reins to the gate post. It turned its head and the dark, depthless eye stared at her in expectation as if to say, yes, I knew to be afraid of you, but what’s the point in struggling until it comes?

She raised her hand.

---

For the second time that day, Toph found herself anticipating Azula’s return and being rewarded by the telltale signs of the firebender making her way back while dragging a body in tow.

“At least this one isn’t smoking,” was what she said by way of praise.

“Dump him with the others,” Azula ordered imperiously, already making her way past her. “I’ve upheld my end of the bargain.”

Toph cleared her throat. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

“Oh,” Azula stopped in her tracks, and for all her deceptive qualities she was unconvincing at suddenly remembering something. “Song will be by shortly to fix your bandages. I left the ostrich horse at her home. It was injured, and I thought it best to give it to the healers to deal with. They would be better owners than filthy daofei anyway.”

Toph raised an eyebrow. Having been up close to the pack animal, she knew very well the ostrich horse was in pristine health when they departed. However, she didn’t know why Azula would lie about it. She crossed her arms. “Something happen along the way?”

“Just the normal risks of travel,” Azula assured her, but it lacked the irritating confidence Toph was used to hearing. She turned and continued into the woods. “I’m going to meditate. Find me when we’re finally ready to leave.”

“Don’t get too zen, Princess,” Toph said, uncrossing her arms. She decided to let the matter rest until she could hear more from Song. She wanted to check in on the healer before leaving, because she had a sinking suspicion that would explain a lot of Azula’s cagey behavior. “Our next stop is a day’s journey. So we’ve gotta pace ourselves.”

Azula halted. “Where?”

Toph shrugged, she could use this as an exchange to make Azula talk, but it would probably backfire on her. Besides, she promised to let her know when the daofei were captured, and she had kept her end of the bargain. No point in keeping it secret now.

“Omashu.”