Exhausted but smiling, Leilani returned to the infirmary with medical supplies.  It had been a long day, but worth it in the end.  In the three years she’d lived in the palace (discounting the two she’d spent with the Northern Water Tribe to formally learn healing), Leilani had decided that nothing pleased her so much in her capacity as a healer than in helping a mother deliver a child.

What made this all the more pleasing was that she had helped Doctor Chang deliver Lady Katara’s twin daughters.  It was a good day for the Fire Nation.

When she was about halfway there, she felt a tiny prick in the back of her neck.

Leilani spun, dropping the supplies as she raised her arms to lash out, but her muscles all decided to relax at the same time.  Water splashed as she fell to the floor, fighting against the drug spreading through her body.

Someone caught her. She saw a flash of a familiar insignia on the man’s glove.

Róng Yào! was her last thought before the darkness took her.

The man dragged her off, and hid her in a closet, tying her as tightly as he could. He then slipped out of the closet to continue on to his primary objectives.

 

*                       *                       *

 

Haru was getting ready to spend a very enjoyable evening with his wife when he realised something was wrong.  He stopped what he was doing immediately, moving one hand to splay against the wall beside Ty Lee’s head while shifting his bare feet slightly.

“What is it?” she asked, frowning.

“…there’s people in the palace,” he said.  “…a lot of people.”

“People who shouldn’t be?”

“Definitely.  I may not be as good as Toph, but as long as I’ve lived here, I know every footstep in this palace.”

“Oh, hell,” she said, twisting up, then froze. “…this could be a coup. This could be the Róng Yào.”

The earthbender scowled and stepped back, grabbing Ty Lee’s shirt up off the floor and handing it to her.  “Not for long they won’t be,” he growled.

She pulled it on. “Let’s go.”

“Wait,” said Haru.  “Pan.”

Ty Lee bit her lip. “I’ll stay with her. You go.”

He held her close for a moment.  “You sure?”

She hugged him back. “Yeah.”

The earthbender kissed her briefly, pulled his own shirt on, and then made his way out into the hall to trail after the invaders.  They wouldn’t know what hit them, he promised grimly.

 

*                       *                       *

 

Kouji smiled to himself as he returned to his room after meeting his nieces for the first time.  Zuko had been absolutely over the moon, and Katara had been just as happy, if exhausted.  It was almost enough to make a boy want to get married himself.

Too bad he’d have to meet actual girls for that.

And then a man — one Kouji didn’t recognize — stepped out of the shadows, dressed all in black. “Excuse me,” he said. “Do you have the time?”

Kouji frowned and glanced out the window.  “I think it’s about sev—”

Something sharp slid in between his ribs, and his gloves weren’t black at all — there was a familiar red insignia on the palms.

The teenager yelled in pain and lashed out, drawing sand from the gourd on his belt and throwing it into his attacker’s eyes. 

His attacker wasn’t alone. More insurgents, also dressed in black, peeled out of the shadows and struck, and kept striking.  Kouji did his best, but the knife in his ribs had been pulled out at some point, and the blood pouring from the wound wasn’t going to help him achieve victory.  Slowly, he was driven down, finding it harder and harder to rise and keep fighting.

And the Róng Yào kept coming.

At last, the Firelord’s personal assistant went down in a pool of sand and blood and didn’t get back up.  His chest still rose and fell shallowly.

One of the rebels bent down for the coup de grace, and was caught in a flare of blue fire, throwing him away from the unconscious teen.

The others turned to face this new threat.

Except for having about six inches on the fallen boy in height and golden eyes, the man before them was the spitting image of Kouji.  “Get the hell away from my brother!” snarled Ichiro.  The rebels didn’t respond verbally, only struck.

Ichiro whipped the heavy chain of his already-bloody kusari-gama from around his shoulders and lashed out, striking one woman in the throat with the weighted end of the chain before drawing it back and spinning the scythe.  Fire erupted from his hand to twist around the whirling iron.

The Róng Yào fell back, regrouping and striking again — they had been well trained.

Unfortunately for them, Ichiro was driven by anger and had a distance weapon he knew how to use, making it hard for them to close in on him — and it became quickly apparent that he was more than happy to kill them if they got too close.  But they were more than willing to die for their goal, and they kept coming.

As Ichiro began to tire and slow down, the number of Róng Yào he faced dwindled to two; perhaps foolishly, he closed in to take the closest down.  The other stepped in with a war hammer, and brought it down on Ichiro’s shin.  Pain exploded up and down his leg even as he slew the other man; as Ichiro toppled, he grabbed hold of the hammer and pulled its wielder on top of him.  The firebender then wrapped his chain around the other man’s neck and pulled back.

After a few moments, he stopped moving.

Ichiro didn’t let go, however, until he could keep his hold no longer.  Exhausted, he laid on the floor under the body and hoped that nobody stumbled across them both — or across the charred skeleton a floor below.

 

*                       *                       *

 

Mikoto was excited — Yui was taking him to meet his brand-new sisters, and to see his daddy and Aunt Katara, too.  The teenage girl held gamely onto his hand as she reminded him that he’d need to be quiet, since his step-mother was likely to be tired after a long labour.  He nodded, seriously, wide-eyed, and tried not to bounce too much in his excitement.

Yui laughed as she led him down the hall — then gasped.  Stopping just before a corner, she frowned as her free hand drifted to her ribs.  “…Kouji…?”

“Yui? What’s wrong?” Mito asked.

She gasped again, flinching, then straightened as fire blazed in her eyes.  “Mito,” she said, steel in her voice.  “Go back to that room we just passed.”

“…What about my sisters?”

“Now!”

“Okay…” he said, confused and frightened, and went into the room.

Yui crept to the corner and peeked around it, hoping she was just being paranoid.  It was, thankfully, empty.

She sighed in relief, then gasped as another phantom pain assailed her.  Something was wrong with Kouji.  The teenager made her way to the room where she’d sent Mito, trying not to shake.

“Yui, what’s wrong?” he asked, eyes wide with fear.

“Kouji’s been hurt — is being hurt.”

“Oh no!”

She bit her lip.  “I’m going to check on him. Stay in here, and keep that door locked.”

“Okay,” he said, terrified.

She hugged him tight, flinching — now the pain was constant — and opened the door to find go find Kouji.

There were two people there, a man and a woman, dressed all in black save for small Róng Yào insignias on their gloves.

Yui slammed the door shut, locked it, and ran to the nearest piece of furniture to drag it in front of the door.

“…those were the guards,” Mito squeaked, his emphasis making it clear that he recognized the two rebels from when the Róng Yào had held him.

“Really.”  Since taking over the boy’s education, Yui had often ranted to Kouji about what she’d like to do to the people who had so twisted poor Mito’s thinking.  She’d have to revise this — Yui wasn’t a slouch when it came to street fights, but those two had the look of highly trained and specialised fighters.  She wasn’t a match for them.

He nodded frantically, shaking a little.  Yui paused in the building of her barricade to hug him tight.  “I won’t let them take you away,” she promised him.

“Okay,” he said, clinging to her in return.

The door was starting to rattle in its frame — the rebels were trying to break in.

Yui let go of Mikoto to finish barricading the door, then drew the little boy to a corner.  He clung to her, still shaking. Don’t make me do it I won’t do it don’t make me…

With no other recourse available to her — damn this room for not having a window! — Yui could only stroke his hair and sing softly to him to try and distract him.  Meanwhile, the door was breaking.

“Get behind me, Mikoto,” Yui said quietly, standing up.

“O-okay,” he whispered, and did as he was told.  Shaking slightly herself, Yui turned to face the door, resting on gently hand on Mito’s head to remind herself that she had to last long enough to ensure his safety.

And then the door broke in, and the woman crawled through. She held up her hands. “We don’t want to hurt you, Your Highness. We’re here to ensure your safety.”

“Leave him alone!” Yui snapped.  “He doesn’t want to go with you.”

“This isn’t your concern,” the woman said, patiently. “Please step away from the prince.”

“Mito is my concern,” the teenager replied.  “I won’t leave him.”

“Step away from the prince before I have to make you,” the rebel responded, still calm.

“I won’t.”  Yui shifted her stance so she’d be harder to knock over, and prepared herself for a world of hurt.

“Don’t make me do this in front of the child,” she whispered.

“I promised the Firelord I’d protect his son,” the girl replied.

“So you’d rather make him watch us cut you down.”

Yui said nothing, but held her ground.

“So be it,” she said, and drew her sword, whirling at Yui’s head — then stopped, with a startled cry of pain, finding her shoe on fire, and Mito, face set, glaring up at her.

And then the woman’s partner crashed through the wall nearest the door, flew across the room, and slammed into the wall on the opposite side.

The woman spun around to face the new threat, trying to keep her weight off her injured foot as much as possible, swearing under her breath.

From the bare feet, he was an earthbender; from the long hair, he was Lady Ty Lee’s foreign husband, Haru.  “Good evening,” he said pleasantly, stepping through the hole in the wall.

She didn’t reply, but drew her sword up again, stepping between the foreigner and her prince.

“I’m only going to ask you this once,” said Haru, that pleasant tone in his voice warring with the anger on his face.  “Take that trash over there and get the hell out.”

“You will not touch our prince,” she shot back.

“See, I think you’re confused,” Haru replied.  “He’s not yours.  He’s Zuko’s.”  His foot moved, and earth raced towards Yui and Mito before rising into a high wall around them.  “And I will be damned if I let you take that child from his father.”

“His father — ” she began, spitting the word.

“Loves him and acknowledges him,” Haru replied.  “And Mito adores him.  Next objection?”

“You shouldn’t interrupt, foreigner. It’s rude,” the commando said. “I was going to say that his father — ” again, she spat the word “ — is likely dead by now.”

Mito, behind Yui and the wall, cried out. “No!”

“I think you underestimate the Firelord,” Haru said softly.  “Zhao couldn’t kill him.  Ozai couldn’t kill him.  Azula couldn’t kill him.  And you bastards couldn’t break him five years ago.”

“Yes, but there are more of us here tonight. And he has his whore and half-breed whelps to think about defending. His own safety won’t be his primary concern.”

Haru’s foot moved again, and earth slammed at the commando.

She wasn’t able to dodge fast enough, and went limp next to her partner.

Haru trapped them both in earth and lowered the wall.  “Yui.  Mikoto,” he said.  “I’m going to take you both to Ty Lee, then I’m going to help Zuko.  Objections?”

Mito was in tears. “Th-they didn’t really kill Daddy, did they? They can’t kill Daddy, right?”

Haru crouched in front of him and smiled.  “I meant what I said, Mito.  Nobody who’s tried to kill your father has ever succeeded.”  He cracked his knuckles.  “And I mean to surprise the ones trying it now.”  He bent a hole in the floor and lowered the children through it.  “Ty Lee is just down the hall, Yui.  Go fast.”

The child nodded, but was still crying.

Yui picked him up, nodded to the earthbender, then bolted to the room he shared with Ty Lee.  Haru closed the hole, and went to seek out the Firelord.

He had barricaded himself and his wife and daughter in their room, and was somehow still managing to hold off the attackers, largely single-handedly. (Tired as she was, Katara wasn’t able to help much.)

Haru announced his arrival with a hail of small rocks; mostly he aimed for heads.

Several of the attackers dropped upon being hit, the remaining rebels divided themselves into two groups, both now comprising about six soldiers — one continued trying to assassinate Zuko, the other launched itself at Haru.

Haru reacted to this by shaking the ground under their feet; to Zuko, he called, “Mikoto is safe!”

“Good,” the younger man called back, spitting fire at his attackers, driving them back a few feet.

The earthbender then focused on the battle at hand; between him and the Firelord, however, their assailants were obviously outmatched, and, something like five or ten minutes later, the last dozen commandos were either killed or incapacitated.

“You all right?” Zuko called, from behind his door and the barricade he’d made of broken furniture and bodies.

“Absolutely.  You and the family?”

“Fine.”

Haru nodded and smoothed down his hair.  “I sent Mito and Yui to Ty Lee.”

“Good. How many are left in the palace, can you tell?” He needed to know if it was safe to dismantle his barricade and leave to find the extent of the damage.

Haru knelt and pressed one hand against the ground.  Closing his eyes, he tried to track all the strangers in the palace.  It… was hard, one of the most difficult things he’d ever attempted.  “…they’re all either dead or unconscious.”

“All right,” Zuko replied, and there were sounds of heavy objects moving and wood splintering. After about five minutes, he limped out from behind the barricade, without his cane — it had been shattered sometime during the fight. “I’m going to see what our casualty count is,” he said, carefully, deliberately calm.

“Want me to go with you?” Haru asked him.

He shook his head. “Could you stay with Katara and the twins, just in case?”

“Gladly,” the earthbender replied.

“Thank you.” The Firelord limped off down the hallway, picking his way around the bodies, to see how much damage the attempted coup had caused.  A floor down, there was a pileup as well as scorch marks; a heavy fight had taken place here.  He went through the bodies, checking to see if any of them were alive.

After a few minutes, he found Ichiro under the bodies of one of the rebels. His eyes widened and he pushed the topmost man out of the way.  Kouji’s older brother groaned, but he pointed behind him.  “K-Kouji…”

Zuko’s face went a few shades paler, and he stumbled over to where Ichiro was pointing.

The sixteen-year-old lay in a spreading pool of blood, unmoving.