#suzula

A week after the dress is chosen, the palace hosts what the Fire Nation calls a Bridal Honor Gathering, a small celebration meant to "honor the union and its future prosperity," in the garden. It's the kind of party Suki would be looking forward to, under different circumstances.

Suki takes her time getting ready, savoring every moment, suddenly finding herself grateful for every chance to bathe and dress in real privacy. A small, controlled moment that belongs only to her.

Soft fabric slides over her skin, fitted and structured in a way that breeds discomfort. The light pinks and soft greens woven in a delicate pattern certainly feel appropriate for a garden party.

She lets out a slow breath as she adjusts the ruffled sleeves and smooths the front of the skirt. Her gaze drops to the light reflecting off her left hand. The ring catches the sun streaming in from the window, gold metal wrapping around her finger and curling up in an intricate flame that cradles the almost comically large diamond. If fits perfectly. It feels heavy. Turning her hand slightly, she watches how the light fractures through the stone. It's beautiful.

Suki exhales, squares her shoulders, and opens the door.

Azula is waiting for her. Suki freezes in the threshold.

"Good morning," Azula greets smoothly, and Suki wonders how long she's been standing there, waiting. Her onyx hair is pulled in a simple bun, cradling a gold headpiece with small jewels that perfectly match her wine red dress. "I thought I would give you an escort to the event."

"Isn't it just in the garden?"

The corner of Azula's mouth curves slightly. "Not because I expect you to get lost, you've managed the walk often enough." She inclines her head. "But it is a bridal celebration," she adds lightly. "It would be better for the brides to arrive together, don't you think?"

"Oh. Right." Suki nods. "That makes sense."

They walk down the corridor, and something feels different. Suki had expected… well, she doesn't know what she expected, but something else. Some kind of tightening of the reins now that everything is publicly official. More rules, more expectations, less space. Instead, she seems softer somehow. Not dramatically so. And certainly not enough to be mistaken for kindness. But there's a certain looseness to her posture.

"I get it," Azula says after a moment, glancing sideways. "These events are never enjoyable. Too many people pretending to be impressive." Her tone shifts to something almost playful. "But don't worry, we can make it… more interesting."

Suki's shoulders stiffen. There's always a cost when Azula talks like that. "How?" she asks.

Azula glances at her, then away again. "I like to play a game," she says. "Pick a person, decide what they want. How far they'll go to get it. And, what they're afraid of. Try to do all of this before they say anything out loud."

Suki studies her as they walk. "Are you ever wrong?"

Azula lets out a breath that almost resembles a chuckle. "Very rarely."

Something cold settles under Suki's ribs.

"I heard from Zeina," Azula continues, changing the subject, "that you requested a specific guest today." Suki's stomach dips. "The dancer." But there's no accusation in her voice.

Suki inhales carefully, gathering what courage she can. "Her name is Ty Lee," she says carefully. "I met her recently, and I thought, since it's kind of a more more casual party…" She trails off. Azula's pace slows, and she raises an eyebrow. Suki swallows. There's no turning back now. "Actually, I was hoping she could come to the wedding, too."

They stop. Azula turns and studies her. Not coldly, but not with any warmth either. Just evaluating. Suki doesn't say anything, despite her instincts telling her to backtrack. She holds her ground.

"Of course," Azula finally says, softly. "If that's what you want." She glances at Suki's ring. "After all, it's the closest I can get to giving you the wedding you actually want."

Suki feels something warm in her chest, and her throat tightens. "Thank you," she says after a moment. "Really."

Azula's smile looks almost genuine.

Suki hesitates, then ventures. "What about… was she able to make it today?"

Azula's smile sharpens instantly. "Please," she says, softness evaporating. "What do you take me for?" And with that, she turns and walks the last few paces to the garden entrance. She offers her hand to Suki, who rushes to catch up. "Shall we?"

Suki takes it. Azula's grip tightens. Their feet cross from polished marble to carefully laid garden path, and the shift is immediate.

Azula's straightens. Her shoulders set, her chin lifts, as though no softness had existed there at all, replaced with something sleek, controlled, and faintly amused. "Stay close," she orders, once again every bit the Fire Nation princess.

The garden is immaculate. Lanterns hang from metal hooks, their soft glow warm against the daylight. Music hums softly through speakers Suki had never noticed are built into the structures around the garden. Tables are arranged and adorned with polished trays of delicate, bite-sized foods. Skewered glazed meats, small buns filled with spiced vegetables, delicate pastries dusted with sugar and citrus zest. Crystal glasses catch the light in manicured hands, filled with brunch cocktails and juice blends.

A small crowd is dispersed throughout the garden, all of whom turn to the couple as they enter. They each raise a hand in their own practiced, royal wave. Suki's stomach growls, an ill-timed reminder she still hasn't eaten.

"Lord Toru," Azula greets brightly as a short, heavyset man approaches, holding a cocktail that, judging by his posture, is not his first. "So glad you could make it. May I introduce my fiancee, Captain Suki?"

The nobleman looks her over slowly, clearly unimpressed. "Yes, yes, quite. Miss Suki," he starts, and Suki flexes her jaw at the choice to ignore her title, "it must be quite the adjustment. Going from… simpler island life, to the Fire Nation."

Azula's gaze flicks to her. Waiting.

Of course.

Suki straightens. "It's been an adjustment," she says, keeping her voice even. "But I've found the Fire Nation to be, well, deeply committed to its traditions. There's a lot to learn from that."

Toru hums, sounding satisfied. Azula lightly grazes her fingers against the back of Suki's hand in silent approval.

Moving through the party, the next guest they encounter is a middle-aged woman wearing enough jewels to rival some of the palace's displays. She gushes to Azula about the honor of being invited, then shakes Suki's hand with too much enthusiasm.

"Do the Kyoshi Warriors—" she says the name like they're an exotic fruit— "find Fire Nation culture to be too restrictive?"

Suki keeps her expression neutral. "We value discipline," she replies. "So there's a… certain familiarity in that respect."

The woman's smile deepens and her eyebrows raise slightly, as though Suki's revealed something fascinating. Mid-conversation, Azula inclines her head toward the woman apologetically.

"I've taken enough of your time," she says gently. "I should circulate before I'm accused of favoritism."

The woman laughs in response, taking it as a compliment. Azula turns to leave, but stops halfway and leans in so her lips nearly brush Suki's ear.

"You'll be fine," she murmurs. Then she steps away.

The next question comes quickly. "Tell me, Captain, do you miss home?"

Suki answers without thinking. "Of course." She blinks, and her lips part. "But I'm so grateful to be here," she adds after a beat.

The woman's smile doesn't change. "Of course you are. So," she leans in closer, secretively, "you agree the alliance benefits Kyoshi Island as well?"

Suki's pulse ticks. "It…" She clears her throat. "It ensures stability for the entire region."

The woman nods, satisfied, and wanders away, earrings and bracelets clacking together as she moves.

Finally, finally, Suki turns toward one of the tables full of food. She gets two steps closer.

"Suki!"

You've got to be kidding me.

She turns, and relief crashes over her. "Ty Lee!"

Her friend glides toward her in graceful strides, pink sundress bouncing lightly with her.

"You look amazing," Ty Lee says as she gets closer.

"So do you."

Ty Lee twirls once, as if to demonstrate. "I mean, I always look cute, but today? You're right. Exceptional."

Suki laughs quietly. "It's good to see you," she says, softer now.

Ty Lee's expression warms. "Yeah. You too." They're both silent for a moment, before Ty Lee brightens suddenly. "So! Engagement! It's official!" She claps her hands together lightly. "So public, so dramatic. I love it!"

Suki's smile falters just slightly. "Yeah, it's… a lot."

"I know it's all super staged," Ty Lee says, lowering her voice conspiratorially, "but… it still felt kind of romantic."

Suki swallows. "Yeah," she says. "It did." She tries not to dwell on the reminder that even with her, there are limits.

"Hey," a woman's voice interjects. Ty Lee and Suki turn to see an irritated-looking woman in a maroon floor-length dress covered in black lace, holding a parasol to shield her from the sun. Half of her hair is pulled back into two small buns near the top of her head, the rest flowing freely down her back.

"Mai!" Ty Lee squeals, clearly recognizing the woman. "This is Suki. You know, Azula's boo?"

The woman—Mai—turns her attention to Suki. Despite her dower expression, she's stunningly beautiful. "You're doing better than most people would in your position."

Suki hesitates. "Oh. Thank you."

"That's high praise," Ty Lee chirps.

Mai scoffs. "Don't get used to it." She turns and walks away.

Ty Lee starts to say something to Suki, but Mai's attention has already drifted. Useless conversations bore her, and she hated having to introduce herself to Azula's little prisoner. She feels a pang of empathy toward the Kyoshi girl, and shoves it down. Not her problem.

Mai navigates through the crowd, ignoring any attempt to get her to engage. She finds Azula quickly, standing near a roselily bush with a champagne flute still mostly full, eyes pinned to Ty Lee and Suki over by the food tables.

"You're staring," Mai says in lieu of greeting.

"I'm… observing."

"That's what that is?"

Azula doesn't look at her.

"Why does it bother you so much?" Mai presses. "And why do you keep pushing Ty Lee toward her if seeing them together just pisses you off?"

The princess's gaze snaps to Mai for an instant before locking back into place. "Tread lightly, Mai." Her tone is steel. "This is a party."

Mai raises a hand in a gesture of surrender. "Fine." But she doesn't drop it entirely. "Just pretend you don't see it."

Azula's jaw ticks. "Go get her."

Mai doesn't argue. Moments later she's at Ty Lee's side, pulling her away as she offers Suki an apologetic wave and makes some excuse. Suki watches her go, confused and disappointed.

"Good," Azula mutters under her breath. After waiting a moment to ensure Mai and Ty Lee have gone, she approaches Suki. "You survived," she praises.

Suki starts, then smiles, relief clear on her face. "We're done?"

"We're done." She pauses. "Shall I return you?"

Suki hesitates, but something stirs in her chest. She allowed Ty Lee to come to the party, and she'll be at the wedding. She answers honestly. "I'd actually like that."

The walk back is quieter, softer.

"You performed well," Azula says. "You adapted quickly."

Suki exhales. "I didn't have much of a choice."

"No," Azula agrees. "But you did great anyway." She grimaces. "Even when faced with Lord Toru's… unfortunate body odor."

Suki stares at her, then laughs. "I thought I was the only one!"

Azula scoffs. "Hardly."

They approach Suki's door.

"You won't be here much longer," Azula points out. "You'll be moving into my suite."

"I remember." Suki turns to finish their conversation, but Azula opens the door, and steps inside. Suki opens her mouth, closes it, then follows. The door closes.

"Are you looking forward to it?" Azula asks.

Suki hesitates. "I… don't know." It's the truth, but it feels like the wrong answer somehow.

Azula steps closer, closing the distance between them completely. Suki's breath catches. Heat floods her skin. Azula leans in, and her breath smells like citrus juice. Her perfume smells like cherry and jasmine. She holds Suki's gaze, but doesn't say anything. She tilts her head and brushes their noses together gently. Suki's mind races, remembering the feel of Azula's lips.

As if reading her mind, Azula glances down at Suki's lips, then back into her eyes. "Do you like it when I kiss you?"

Suki's pulse hammers in her ears. She can't think. Heat pools low in her gut and she knows that no matter how she answers, there will be no turning back.

"Don't lie," Azula whispers.

Suki swallows. "Yes."

There's no hesitation. Azula kisses her, and it's different this time. Hungrier, like she's staking claim.

Suki is already in motion when the morning bells ring, making it to the courtyard before the sun has fully broken over the horizon. Her fellow Kyoshi Warriors move with her, a flash of green and gold, fans snapping open and shut in a precise rhythm.

Their uniforms are slick and modern, but carry hints of the ancient traditional armor worn in Kyoshi’s time. Thick forest green fabric beneath strategically placed metal plates, as close to a military uniform as one can get while being light enough to wear for long shifts and perform Kyoshi Island’s signature dance-like fighting style. Some Warriors do their makeup in ways that subtly honor the traditional facepaint—red eyeshadow, thick eyeliner, but it hasn’t been mandatory since the ‘60s.

The air is thick with ocean spray and sweat.

“One more time, girls!” Suki’s voice rings out clear and cheerful, even with sweat dripping down her neck. “But tighter on the turns. Ready?”

They start their set again. One of them stumbles and corrects herself, face hardening with determination. Suki catches her eye and smiles, all encouragement, no judgment. She never raises her voice, not unless it’s absolutely necessary. She far prefers leading with trust over fear.

At twenty-four, she’s already something of a local legend. A non-bender, but a prodigy. Captain. Her parents died when she was young, so she was raised collectively by the island, between aunts and cousins and teachers. Adopted into the custody of the Kyoshi Warrior Youth Program at the youngest legal age, she learned discipline early, but kindness too, because on Kyoshi Island, the two are treated as equals instead of opposites.

The training courtyard is inland, but sits high enough you can see the sea over the western wall. You can catch glimpses of incoming ships, or monsters surfacing for air in deeper waters if you look at the right moment.

A horn sounds from the speakers on the watchtower. Then another. Suki pauses her set and straightens, lifting a hand. “Hold,” she orders. The other warriors follow suit and stand still, fans snapping shut almost in unison. She jogs to the edge of the courtyard, to the western wall, ornately carved stone that sits about chest-high, shading her eyes as she looks out toward the water.

There, she sees them. Dark shapes on the horizon, cutting through the morning haze. A small fleet, maybe half a dozen ships, their hulls unmistakable even at a distance. Red sails.

Fire Nation.

Suki’s chest tightens. She can already feel the panic building throughout the island. Rumors have to be swirling. By the time she returns to the courtyard, the girls’ faces are tight with concern. Her eyes dart to Fume, who quickly shoves her phone in her uniform pocket.

“Fume! You are not allowed to have your phone at practice. You know that, what gives?” Suki sounds harsher than she means to, but now is not the time.

“What did you see?” Fume asks in response. Suki sighs. This isn’t insubordination, this is fear.

“A small group of Fire Nation ships,” Suki answers bluntly. She respects her fellow warriors too much to beat around the bush. “But that doesn’t mean we have to surrender to our worst fears. We don’t know anything yet.”

“They’re saying it’s an envoy,” Fume says. “Of diplomats.”

“For negotiations,” another girl adds. “So maybe it’s not a military mission?” The optimism in her voice sounds thin and fragile as rice paper.

No one has any faith in negotiations with the Fire Nation. But no one wants to say the word “surrender” out loud.

Suki nods, projecting calm out of habit. “Alright. Training’s done for now, we’re all officially on duty. Get your supplies, then pair up, and stay visible. Give reassurance to anyone who needs it. We make sure the people of Kyoshi Island stay calm and hopeful. No rumors, no panic. Understood?”

“Yes, Captain!” Everyone’s voice rings out in unison, steadier now that they have a mission.

Suki walks the streets, trying to look as confident and unafraid as possible. Less than an hour later, her phone buzzes with news headlines rolling in. The Fire Nation delegation has requested an audience with Kyoshi Island leadership to discuss matters of mutual interest. Trade, security, et cetera. No one says “surrender,” and no one has to.

Some time later, after completing her rounds, Suki returns to the warrior compound to find a young man waiting for her at the door.

“Captain Suki,” he says with a light bow. “You’re requested in the Council hall. Immediately.”

She straightens, not particularly wanting to be in the same room as anyone from the Fire Nation. “Did they say why?”

He shook his head. “Only that you were to come immediately.”

Icy fear pricks at the base of her spine. She hands off supervision to her lieutenant and follows the messenger through the streets. People watch her pass, fear on their faces. She smiles where she can, and stares straight ahead when she can’t. Her mind races as they walk. She’s never met anyone from the Fire Nation before, and has never wanted to.

Their global conquest has the entire world living in fear. It’s been something like a hundred years since they committed genocide against an entire people, wiping airbending out of existence, and they’ve only grown more powerful since then. Even on Kyoshi Island, some people think it’s inevitable, that the Fire Nation really will take over the entire world.

If they can get to Kyoshi Island, Suki thinks, maybe they’re right.

When they arrive, the room is already full. Her direct superior is there, Commander Rensha, face carefully neutral. So is her superior, hands folded like he’s bracing for impact. And then the others.

They wear uniforms in deep burgundy, black Fire Nation insignias catching the light. They look like the kind of people used to everyone else rearranging themselves around their presence. The conversation dips as she enters, then resumes, quieter. She stands rigidly still next to the messenger, hands clasped behind her back, perfect posture. She is used to being observed, but this is different. Less like she’s an officer, more like an object.

Conversation continues around her for a moment. Finally, her Commander clears her throat and gestures for her to come closer. When Suki complies, she leans forward and speaks, her voice low and clinical.

Suki is guided down a side corridor. A council security guard falls into step behind her, another in front. The hair on the back of her neck stands up. 

Inside the council chamber, the air is cool and perfumed. Her commander stands near the long central table, hands clasped, posture rigid in a way that goes beyond professionalism. Three members of the Kyoshi Island council sit along the right side, their expressions neutral. No Fire Nation officials are present. This should reassure her, but it doesn’t. 

“Suki,” Commander Rensha says, gesturing for her to come forward. “Thank you for coming so quickly.”

“You said it was important,” Suki replies lightly. “I assume this has something to do with the Fire Nation ships.”

No one says anything for a moment. Her commander inhales, then exhales slowly. “A decision has been made.”

Suki blinks. “The negotiations?” This doesn’t make any sense. Suki is Captain of the Warriors, yes, but her position is not political. She isn’t nearly important enough to be among the first to hear news like this.

“Yes.”

Suki’s jaw tightens. Her commander continues. “We have, until now, survived by being small,” she says carefully. “By being inconvenient. But that protection has ended.”

Suki feels heat rise in her chest. “So we resist.”

“We cannot,” Rensha replies simply. “Not against this.”

Her hands curl into fists at her sides. “So we let them what, conquer us?”

“No.” The reply comes quickly. “We prevent it.”

Suki laughs once,a sharp and incredulous bark. “How do we do that?”

The room seems to shrink. Rensha hesitates. “The Kyoshi Warriors,” she starts carefully, “are to be incorporated into Fire Nation operations, as part of the framework of a mutual alliance.”

For a moment, Suki doesn’t understand. Then it clicks. 

“No,” she insists, flat and immediate. “Absolutely not. The Kyoshi Warriors do not, will not, serve the Fire Nation. We exist only to protect this island. And I will personally sail to the Fire Nation capital and tell their beloved Firelord Ozai that he can shove these negotia—”

“Suki!” Rensha snaps, voice rough. “That is enough.”

Suki sucks in a breath. “You can’t just decide this for us.”

“It’s already decided. The negotiations have concluded.”

She shakes her head, leaning back. “They won’t agree to it.”

Her commander looks at her, and her expression changes for half a second before hardening again. “They will,” she says slowly. “Because the Fire Nation will have collateral.”

Suki’s stomach drops. “What… what did they ask for?”

“You.”

The guards that led her into the council chamber shift, as though preparing for her to run. Suki remains still, her brow furrowed, heart pounding.

“Me.” It doesn’t make sense. “You’re telling me I’m to be a prisoner of war? I’m not even a soldier!” Her composure starts to fracture. She’s heard legends of Fire Nation prisons. 

“You won’t be a prisoner of war,” Rensha corrects, almost gently. 

“Then what,” Suki asks shakily, “a hostage? A detainee?”

“No,” Rensha says, lower. She pauses for a long moment. “The Fire Nation requested a formal union,” she says finally. “One that’s public, that can’t be undone easily or quietly.”

Suki’s mind races trying to connect the dots. “A union,” she repeats.

Her commander nods. “A marriage.”

The word lands wrong in Suki’s chest. “No,” she says automatically. “No, that’s—that’s not a negotiation, that’s… You can’t be serious.”

“It was their condition.”

“Whose condition? Ozai’s?”

“There will be a formal announcement.” Rensha avoids the question. “The match will be presented as a gesture of unity and a cultural exchange.”

Suki almost laughs again, but no sound comes out. “You’re selling me.”

“That is not—”

“You’re selling me,” she repeats, louder now. Her hands start to shake. “To stop them from gutting the island, you hand me to them and call it diplomacy?”

Rensha’s mouth tightens.

“And who,” Suki asks, “am I supposed to marry? Some Fire Nation military brute? One of the monsters who cuts down innocents in the name of grabbing more land?”

“No…” The answer comes hesitantly. “This deal is more important than that. You are more important than that.”

The answer brings more dread than if she had said yes. Suki stares at her, waiting for an answer.

“...Azula,” Rensha says at last. “Firelord Ozai’s daughter, and apparently the heir, since his son was banished a few years ago.”

Suki knows the name. Everyone does. Beautiful and deadly, and a prodigy. She’s said to be one of the best fire benders in the nation, and she’s only twenty-two. She’s also known to have as much kindness and compassion as an active volcano.

“You… you’re joking,” she says weakly. 

“I am not.”

Suki takes a step back. “And what if I say no?” she asks quietly. “What happens then?”

Rensha doesn’t answer. The council members do not look at her. That is enough to tell her exactly what will happen to Kyoshi Island if she does not comply.

The guards reappear at her sides. Rensha speaks again, her voice almost breaking. “I’m sorry, Suki. This was the only way to avoid complete destruction.”

One of the guards places a firm hand on Suki’s shoulder. “It takes a few weeks to get to the capital,” Rensha says, her voice clear again, her eyes not meeting Suki’s gaze. “So you leave today.”

Suki thinks of her fellow Warriors. They’ll be traitors now, all of them. Betraying the Earth Kingdom and Kyoshi Island because their leader, their sister, is in the hands of one of the most dangerous people in the Fire Nation. Tears prick at the back of her eyes. 

“You’re not letting me say goodbye?” Suki starts to step forward. The guard holding her shoulder tenses, keeping her in place.

“You have a reputation for cunning,” Rensha says, as though it’s a compliment. “They don’t want to risk you devising some plan or giving secret orders out. You will be allowed a brief goodbye with Fume and Aika, since you, uh… in the absence of biological family.”

Suki goes stiff as the guards start to guide her from the chamber, reflex telling her to plant her feet, to fight back, to make it as hard on them as possible. But she exhales instead, straightening her spine, and attempts to mold her face into something calm. If this is how they take me, she thinks, they will not get the satisfaction of seeing me unravel in the hallway. 

The walk back to the Warrior dormitory feels longer than it ever has. A pair of younger Warriors pause mid-conversation when they see her flanked by guards. One of them opens her mouth. 

Suki meets her eyes and gives her a small, steady nod. She will not let her turmoil spread.

Her door opens. She steps inside, and the guards remain in the threshold. 

“You have an hour,” one of them says, the corners of his mouth pulling down sharply. The door does not close all the way.

Suki stands for a long moment in the center of her room, taking in every detail. Everything  is the same as she left it this morning, when things were normal. She packs slowly. Not because she has much to take, but because every item suddenly feels like a loaded choice. What can she bear to leave behind? What will she be allowed to keep? 

The thought causes her chest to ache. Fire Nation armies burn down villages and force assimilation for colonized territories. Anything she takes with her, she risks having stolen or destroyed.

She packs a suitcase’s worth, slowly and deliberately. The guards remain outside the door. It dawns on her then, that she will not be alone again. Maybe never. She thinks back to the courtyard, seeing the ships approaching in the harbor. Her last moment of freedom. 

A knock sounds at the door. Suki turns to see Aika enter first, eyes red, jaw clenched like her composure is held together by a hair. Fume follows close behind, tears already escaping down her cheek, smudging her red eyeliner.

“Suki,” Fume says, voice already breaking. “They said… They said you were…” She gestures wildly. “What the hell is going on?”

“I know,” Suki says gently. She steps forward before either of them can stop her and pulls them both into her arms. Fume sobs once. Aika’s breath stutters.

“This is wrong,” Aika says into Suki’s shoulder. “It’s wrong.” She pulls back slightly. “It’s politicized human trafficking. I swear, Suki, say the word and—”

“No,” Suki pulls back just far enough to look at her. “You won’t.”

Aika collapses back into the hug, and sobs. For several moments they just hold each other. Suki cups Aika’s face, then Fume’s, thumbs brushing away tears.

“Listen to me,” Suki says. “You take care of the girls. Whatever they make you do, you don’t lose hope. And you don’t forget who you are. Keep each other safe.”

“What about you?” Fume asks. 

Suki smiles. “I’ll be fine,” she says, desperately trying to believe her own words. “I always am.”

The guards step inside. 

“Time’s up.”

Suki stares at them. “No, no it’s not. It’s barely been thirty minutes, you said—”

“Time’s up.”

Aika steps back as they move in, anger flashing hot across her face. She squares her shoulders, weight shifting like she might strike.

“Aika,” Suki says sharply.

Aika exhales through her nose and steps away, eyes red and puffy. “We were supposed to have more time,” she whispers. Fume clings to Suki for a final second, then lets go. 

The door closes behind them. 

Suki glares at the guard that spoke. “You didn’t have to do that. What, are you happy about this? About the Fire Nation taking over your home?”

“Orders changed while you were packing,” he replies, sounding earnest, then his face hardens. “I’m sorry. It’s time to go.”

The walk to the harbor is quiet. Warriors line the path in ones and twos, not formally assembled, but haphazardly gathered as fast as the news could spread. Suki keeps her head high. She makes eye contact with as many Warriors as she can and tries to project steady calm. 

Someone in the crowd starts to cry. She reaches the gate and pauses, thinking for a heartbeat that she might speak. She sucks in a breath, but before she can try to shout some goodbye, some words of comfort, a hand presses firmly between her shoulders.