Hello! For those of you reading my Avengers fic and are confused as to why I'm suddenly starting a new story, don't worry, I haven't abandoned the other one. The next chapter will be up very soon. I literally have 3 stories going on at once, so please bear with me. This one was actually an old idea going years back, and it's recently resurfaced with a vengeance and demanded to written. So...here it is!
The first time Azula meets Ursa, she is a few months old.
Zuko and Mai are awaiting her at the top of the palace stairs as she arrives, flanked by guards.
She is irked by their proximity. Two walk beside her and one behind her, far enough to give her walking space, but still too close for comfort. At least her restraints have been removed. Though she has officially been declared rehabilitated and sane, it is obvious that no one in the Fire Nation trusts her farther than they could shoot a fireball at her.
Not that she can exactly blame them. But it irritates her, nonetheless.
She'd been surprised when Zuko offered her a place in the palace upon her release. She'd initially thought it was just a ploy to humiliate her further. After all, what better way to exact revenge than to keep the "crazy" princess at the palace where she once ruled, reduced to the status of a lowly guest?
But it wasn't like she'd had much of a choice. As an asylum patient, she had no money or friends to take her in. And there was no chance in Agni that she was going to degrade herself to working like a commoner, so she'd taken Zuko up on his offer.
Zuko shifts uneasily as Azula ascends the stairs to meet him, though he tries to maintain his composure. "Welcome, Azula," he says, his tone laced with a touch of awkwardness.
It has been seven years since he has been this close to his sister - without the heavy iron bars separating them.
"Hello, Zuzu." Contrary to her brother, Azula's voice comes out smoothly, with its usual sardonic bite.
Zuko tries not to scowl, tamping down the twinge of exasperation that has already sprung up. Apparently Azula has not changed all that much.
"I would have felt more welcome if you had actually come to get me in person instead of sending these." She shoots a disdainful look at the guards.
Zuko sighs. "You know I was busy dealing with those rebels who were rioting in the market."
Azula pouts. "Oh, very well. So... are we going to continue this happy reunion on the steps, or are you going to show me inside?"
Only then does her eyes travel to Mai and the child in her arms. It looks up at Azula with curious golden eyes, one finger in its mouth.
So this is little Ursa.
Named after the woman who had abandoned her children. How quaint. Typical of Zuko, always the sentimentalist.
Azula eyes the child with disinterest, then looks up at its mother.
Mai has hardly changed in appearance. She still wears her bangs the same way, though her hair is decorated with adornments typical of the Fire Lady. Her disposition has not changed, either. She regards her former friend with a bland expression, though her actions betray her true feelings: her arms tighten protectively around her daughter when she sees Azula looking at her.
As though Azula has the slightest interest in the traitor's spawn.
She shoots a mock grin at her former friend, knowing it will aggravate her, and follows Zuko to the West Wing - her new quarters.
Azula sees little of Ursa over the next few years. Truth be told, most of the time she doesn't even remember that she has a niece. The only times she sees Ursa regularly are during dinner (Zuko had insisted that they all dine as a family) and in passing on the palace grounds.
But it doesn't take long for Ursa to develop the natural curiosity about the woman called "Auntie." By the time she's four years old, it's obvious to everyone that, although she has Mai's straight black hair and her father's kindness, she has inherited her aunt's headstrong and untamable personality.
It seems like everyday that her parents and the servants are looking for her because she has run off somewhere in the palace. And though Mai has told her countless times that the West Wing is off limits unless she's accompanied by either her mother or father, Ursa still occasionally makes her way there.
She has her friends to keep her company - the second generation Gaang - but she will often still seek out her aunt to play. If Azula is in a particularly patient mood, she might humor the girl for a short while, but just so Ursa will leave her alone.
One day, Azula is out in the courtyard, practicing her exercises. It had taken her months when she'd first gotten released from the asylum to regain the level of skill she'd had before - especially since she'd had to learn to rely on a source other than anger and hatred - but now her bending is as strong as ever.
Breath in. Out. In. Out.
As soon as her breathing is under control, she begins the moves. Unlike Zuko, who starts off his exercises slow, then builds momentum, Azula is a whirlwind of movement.
Seemingly chaotic, but somehow controlled.
Blue flames trail her every move, dancing through the air and lighting up the courtyard even in the middle of the day.
Finally, Azula returns to resting position, standing still and drawing deep breaths.
Somewhere from her right, she hears delightful squeals and clapping. She whirls around to see the source of the noise, and sure enough, peeking out from her hiding place in a nearby bush, is Ursa.
"Again, again!" Ursa jumps up and down excitedly.
Azula walks over to the little girl and stands over her, arms crossed. "What are you doing here?"
"Watching you firebend," Ursa replies, like it's the most obvious thing in the world.
She has Azula's snarky attitude as well.
"I'm guessing your mother has no idea you're here," Azula says, a corner of her mouth lifting in an amused smirk.
The day that Mai leaves her daughter unattended with Azula is the day that hog monkeys start waterbending.
Ursa chews on her lip. "No. Please don't tell Mama! She'll get mad, and I hate listening to her when she's mad." She makes a face.
Azula laughs. "Tell you what. I'll make you a deal. You can keep watching me, and I won't tell your mother. But if she catches you, I had no idea you were here. Got it?"
Ursa nods eagerly.
"Good. Now go sit over there and don't bother me."
By the time Ursa is five, it is nearly impossible for Azula to avoid her. She doesn't know why, but the girl insists on seeking out her company every chance she gets, though she does nothing to encourage it.
"Auntie Azula, want to see me do a cartwheel?"
"Auntie Azula, me and my friends are going to pull a prank on the guards. Want to join?"
"Auntie Azula, want to help me gather ants for my anthill?"
Sometimes Azula obliges. She does need a stress reliever after all those meetings and scrolls that accompany the title of princess.
After one year of her living in the palace and not causing any trouble, Zuko started trusting her with affairs of the state. It was nothing major at first - a solicitation for advice here and there, the casual imparting of current events over tea. Mai had protested vehemently against Zuko letting Azula into his inner circle ("How many times has she tried to kill you and usurp you, and now you're just going to hand her the keys to the throne room?!"), but Zuko felt like Azula had earned some trust. Besides, even with Mai's help, Zuko's position was a trying one, and he welcomed Azula's contribution. All else aside, she was extremely smart.
Azula has to admit, her niece is never boring. She invents clever games to play, and it is more than fun to watch her and her friends get up to mischief.
"Can't you at least try not to be a bad influence?" Zuko chides his sister one day.
Azula raises an eyebrow in mock surprise. "Me? I've done nothing. If your daughter insists on emulating me, blame it on genetics."
She simply grins at the scowl on her brother's face, and openly laughs as she watches Ursa launch a surprise attack on an unsuspecting guard. While he's doubled over fixing his sock, she charges at him and leaps onto his back, trying to ride him like an ostrich horse.
"Agni help us when she starts firebending," Zuko groans, before rushing off to save the poor guard.
"Auntie Azula, want to feed the ducks with me?" Ursa asks a few days later, as Azula finishes her morning exercises. Ursa has been sitting patiently in the grass, watching her from a safe distance. Azula always makes sure that her niece stays outside the range of her fire blasts.
"I'll pass, kid. I prefer throwing stones at them," Azula smirks.
"Me, too," Ursa replies. "But Kya tells me that it's mean and I shouldn't do it. She's such a goody-two-shoes." She rolls her eyes.
Azula smiles in amusement. "Agreed. Not surprising, because her mother is the biggest one there is."
Ursa giggles. "So are you sure you don't want to come? We can throw rocks, too, if you want." Ursa looks up at her with doey eyes.
Azula smiles. "Alright, kid. But I can't stay long. Your father needs me in another thirty minutes."
Ursa happily takes Azula's hand and leads her to the pond, where they both settle down on the grass. Ursa pulls two pieces of bread out of her pocket. She keeps one for herself and gives one to Azula. They spend the next few minutes in companionable silence, breaking the bread and tossing it into the pond for the ducks.
"You know, Papa says that I'm a lot like you," Ursa tells Azula, once she has given the last of her bread.
"Really?" Azula replies sardonically, leaning back on her hands and stretching her legs out in front of her, crossing them at the ankles. She notices Ursa do the same.
The statement should've flattered her. And she is flattered - a bit. But mostly she feels conflicted. It is times like this when that secret fear rises to the front of her conscience.
What happens next catches Azula completely off guard.
Ursa wraps her arms affectionately around Azula's middle. Then she reaches up and kisses her on the cheek.
What the - ?!
Azula jerks back, staring at her niece incredulously. "Why did you do that?" In her astonishment, her tone comes out too sharp.
Ursa blinks, taken aback by her aunt's reaction. "Because I love you," she states, looking confused.
Azula might as well have been struck by lightning. She just stares at her niece, momentarily speechless. She already knows that the girl is fond of her, but to hear her actually say those words...Azula just doesn't know how to process it.
So she reacts the only way she knows how to.
Which is to jump on the offensive.
"And what do you know about love? You're just a silly child."
Azula pushes herself off the grass and walks back toward the palace, needing desperately to clear her head. She doesn't look back.
If she had, she would've seen the heartbroken look in Ursa's eyes.