Chapter 54: Divergence
The morning sun filtered through the tall windows of the Fire Prince's chamber, casting golden stripes across the bed's silken sheets. The palace was waking slowly, distant echoes of footsteps, the rustle of servants setting up breakfast in the garden, the rhythmic clang of the changing guard.
Zuko lay still beneath the covers, eyes open, staring at the carved ceiling above him.
He wasn't in pain anymore. Not really.
His ribs still ached faintly, bruised, but not broken. It should've taken days to even get out of bed after Azula slammed him into a door with fire-forged strength.
But he already felt… better.
Not just healed.
Enhanced.
It was one of the first things he'd noticed after waking up in Zuko's body all those months ago. He was faster. His fire hit harder. His stamina ran deeper. But now, now he was seeing something else.
He was healing faster too.
Zuko's brow furrowed as he exhaled slowly through his nose.
'How much has changed in this world?'
It wasn't just him.
Zhao had been stronger than expected, faster, more brutal. Not the petty, arrogant man he remembered from the show. That version of Zhao had been a tyrant with delusions of grandeur. This one? This one had trained. And he had a master.
Zuko's fingers tightened in the sheets.
There were too many variables now. And Zuko hated variables.
He shifted his gaze toward the small table beside the bed, where a scroll lay half-unfurled, his notes. Observations. Discrepancies. Things that shouldn't be but were.
'Zhao's strength and new affiliations. His own enhanced chi levels, far beyond what Zuko displayed in the show. Now accelerated healing.'
It wasn't just a stronger Zuko in a familiar world. The world itself was changing. Maybe reacting to his presence. Maybe reshaping itself around him.
And that was dangerous.
Victor rolled over slowly, careful not to wake the girl lying next to him.
Katara's breathing was slow, even. Her hair splayed across the pillow in a loose curtain. For now, she was at peace.
But she wouldn't be for long.
In three days, he would be crowned Crown Prince. Official heir to the throne of the Fire Nation. No longer the exiled son. No longer bound to this suffocating palace.
Once the ceremony was done, he would have no reason to stay in the capital. With the full backing of the military, unrestricted access to ships, troops, and intelligence, he could move freely. Unlike during his exile, he wouldn't be chasing a myth, he would be guiding an empire.
That was when the real plan would begin.
But first, he had to return the world to a track he could follow.
Right now, with Aang captured, the butterfly effect was spiraling out of control. Every day that passed, every action Aang didn't take, changed the world's rhythm. Victor couldn't predict the future—not without the Avatar out in the world, making the same moves he remembered.
'Omashu. The swamp. The library. Ba Sing Se.'
All critical nodes. All moments he needed to happen.
So he would let them go.
Sokka, Aang, and Katara would escape. Not too easily. Not without consequence. But escape they would.
That would get things moving again. Give him a shape to the future. A map.
He stared at the ceiling again, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.
Once the timeline had a spine again, he would begin bending it to his will. Carefully. Silently. From the inside.
Let the world think the Avatar was on the move.
Let the Earth Kingdom prepare.
Let the White Lotus watch from the shadows.
Because none of them would see the crown he wore coming, not until it was too late.
Katara stirred beside him, brow creasing faintly in her sleep before her lashes fluttered open. The room was brighter now, golden light spilling across the far wall, catching in the folds of silk curtains and the polished armor set resting in the corner.
Zuko was already up, seated at the edge of the bed and fastening the clasp of his deep crimson outer robe. His hair was mostly pulled back, a few strands falling loose against the side of his face.
Katara sat up slowly, clutching the blanket to her chest.
"You're up early," she murmured, voice still husky from sleep.
"I have meetings," he said, adjusting his sleeve. "Lots of them. Ceremony prep. Military briefings. Half the palace wants something from me before I'm Crown Prince."
Her lips twitched, almost a smirk. "So the Fire Nation wants its golden boy sharp and smiling for the big day?"
Zuko glanced over his shoulder at her. "You're coming with me."
Katara blinked. "What?"
He stood and tied his sash, face casual but voice firm. "I want you at my side today. All day."
She frowned, rising to her knees on the mattress. "Why? To parade me around like a trophy?"
He met her eyes and gave her a lopsided smirk. "Yes."
"Very funny."
"I'm serious. You'll sit in on the meetings, accompany me to the parade grounds, the council hall, everywhere. And don't make that face." He gestured to the unimpressed scowl forming on hers. "You've been surprisingly good at behaving appropriately. Watching body language. I want another set of eyes."
Katara hesitated. "You mean you want me close so I don't try anything."
Zuko's smirk deepened. "That too."
She folded her arms. "You could just lock me up again."
"I could," he admitted, crossing the room to stand in front of her. "But I think you'd find this far more humiliating, being forced to play consort in front of Fire Nation nobility."
Katara rolled her eyes. "And I guess you'll enjoy it?"
"I enjoy watching you try not to enjoy me."
Her eyes narrowed, and her cheeks flushed just slightly, just enough for him to catch it.
"There it is," Zuko teased, stepping closer, voice lowering. "That little moment where your face says one thing and your heartbeat says another."
She shoved the blanket off and stood, glaring at him. "You're insufferable."
"You like insufferable."
"Keep telling yourself that."
Zuko chuckled, but his mind ticked behind his eyes.
Azula.
She'd been quiet since last night. Too quiet. That meant she was already planning something. That meant retaliation.
She wouldn't let what happened go. Not the kiss. Not the shift in power. She'd forget, for now, that he was stronger than before. Her pride would blind her to that. But she wouldn't forget the humiliation. That meant she wouldn't be focused on his bigger moves.
That was what he needed.
"Let's go," he said, snapping himself from thought. "I want you dressed and ready in ten."
Katara narrowed her eyes. "You're enjoying giving orders now."
"I've always enjoyed giving you orders," Zuko said with a grin, already walking toward the door. "But you seem to enjoy following them more than you admit."
Her reply was a muttered Water Tribe curse he couldn't quite hear.
And as he stepped into the hallway, Zuko smiled faintly.
It wasn't control. Not yet.
But it was momentum.
And that was all he needed.
A few minutes passed by the morning.
Katara was still getting dressed when Zuko moved to the tea set resting near the window. He poured a shallow cup, letting the fragrant steam rise into his face, and took a careful sip.
"You're unusually quiet," he said without looking back.
"I'm wondering," Katara replied, pulling her sash tight around her waist, "why the generals even need your input. Seems like your father's made up most of his mind already."
Zuko smiled faintly into his cup. "They don't need my input. They need to learn how to obey me."
Katara scoffed. "And here I thought your humility was your most redeeming quality."
He turned slightly, his gaze catching hers in the polished reflection of the window. "You keep acting like you don't understand me. Like you're not learning. But you are."
"I'm not."
"You are," he said, stepping closer. "You watch how people move. You study them. You're adapting. Even now, your anger has cooled. You haven't tried to run away from my touch in days."
"Maybe I'm just biding my time."
"Good," he said with a smirk. "That's the difference between you and the rest. Make sure you have at least learned that from me when things change."
Before she could answer, there came a sharp knock at the door.
Zuko's body tensed.
He stepped around the bed and pulled the heavy door open.
Standing in the hall was a tall figure clad in lacquered armor of black and red, the gold-trimmed mask smooth and impassive. An Imperial Firebender. Not just any soldier, these were elite. Hand-picked to serve only the Fire Lord himself.
"Prince Zuko," the masked man said, voice calm but firm.
Zuko straightened. "Yes?"
"The Fire Lord and Princess Azula await your presence in the throne room."
Zuko's expression didn't change, but Katara saw the subtle shift in his posture—shoulders slightly tensed, a flicker of calculation behind his eyes.
"Alright," he said casually. "I'll be over in a minute."
The masked man didn't move. "Please get dressed now, Prince. The Fire Lord was very clear. You are to come with me immediately."
There was a beat of silence.
Zuko froze just for a second.
Then, slowly, his lips curled into a small, knowing smile. His mind clicked through possibilities like turning pages in a strategy scroll.
"I see," he said quietly.
He turned to Katara, gesturing toward the robes draped beside the bed. "Throw me the robe."
She didn't hesitate. The shift in his tone, calm, but firm, unsettled her. She grabbed the crimson outer robe and tossed it to him.
Zuko caught it mid-air and pulled it over his tunic in one smooth motion, tightening the sash as he moved toward the doorway.
He paused beside her. "I'll be back soon."
His voice dropped to something cold and commanding.
"Do not leave this room."
She stared up at him. His eyes weren't pleading. They weren't even worried. They were serious. Calculating.
And for once, she didn't feel like the prisoner in the room.
She felt like someone who had been briefed.
Zuko turned and walked out with the Imperial Firebender, their footsteps echoing in perfect rhythm down the corridor.
Katara watched them vanish into the shadows, the door slowly clicking shut behind them.
She felt it now, the tension in the air. The sudden pressure of something building, like the moment before a storm breaks.
He'd told her last night: The next few days are too important.
And now she believed him.
Her hands clenched slowly at her sides.
But how did he know?
She turned to face the empty room, mind racing. The timeline was shifting, she could feel it. Moves were being made that didn't belong to any war she understood. And Zuko, was always just ahead of them all.
If he's already steps ahead of everyone else…
Then what's his ultimate goal?
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