Title: Treachery
Words: 1324
Summary: Zuko wasn't good at anything. That's how Azula liked it, and that's how Azula would make sure it would stay...no matter what. Pro-bending Circuit Season 2 submission.
a/n: Round 2 submission for the Pro-bending Circuit tournament. A shorter piece than I usually put out, but I still hope you enjoy it :)
Task: THE KNIGHT - Write about someone who is willing to jump over others to get what they want.
Prompts: (color) ebony; (character) Zuko; (restriction) exactly 1324 words
Bonus: Include the element of Fire into the story
OOO
Treachery
OOO
Azula wasn't sure where Zuko learned how to fight with dao swords.
Lu Ten was dead, Uncle was wallowing in self-pity, and Father didn't care enough to try and go out his way to get Zuko an extra tutor so he could go and fail at something else. She suspected their mother was behind this, although how that woman managed to indiscreetly get Zuko another master was beyond her. Azula never concerned herself with Mother.
She didn't know about the swords until she was coming back from the library late one night. She passed by one of the empty corridors in the West Wing and heard the sound of metal slashing through air. Azula had quietly rounded a corner and hid behind one of the columns lining the hall so that she could watch secretly. His back was to her, and she carefully extinguished a few of the lanterns hanging near her to obscure her figure in further darkness — just in case.
It was remarkable to watch him, she was disgusted to admit. He handled the swords well — far more gracefully than he had ever looked while Firebending. She supposed that's what had truly bothered her. Zuko never understood Firebending. He didn't have enough drive, cunning, and hatred to fuel it. It's why he was so awful at it and why Azula breezed through her lessons.
But swordplay was different. It was all about balance and peace — communing with one's weapons and intimately knowing their weight, their feel, and their spirit. She cocked her head to the side as she watched him cleanly move through a sequence of slices and jabs.
Remarkable. Zuko actually looked like he was in complete control of himself. Graceful, even. The complete opposite of what he was supposed to be.
She turned sharply and ran all the way back to her room. The doors slammed behind her, she jumped straight into her bed, screamed into her pillows, and burned all the dolls Uncle Iroh had sent her.
Zuko wasn't good at anything. He was slow in his studies, he didn't pay attention in class, his Firebending was embarrassing, and he preferred to sketch turtle ducks out by the pond instead of something productive like reading. Mother liked to placate him with ridiculous notions about how his talents laid elsewhere. But the truth was he was a screw up and Azula's whole world depended on that one fact being true.
He couldn't actually accomplish anything. It just didn't make sense.
Azula tried to test this theory by checking to make sure Zuko wasn't just excelling at something exceedingly simple, and honestly, what good was that?
Lu Ten was also very good with swords in addition to Firebending. In his old chambers — which, upon Uncle's request, were not touched since his death — there were a few wooden practice swords that he kept. Azula held the wooden swords out in front of her and recalled the strange way that her brother had been moving with them — swishing, fluid movements filled with grace, like he was dancing instead of fighting. That seemed easy enough.
Azula attempted to replicate a few of the movements she had seen Zuko doing in the hall. But every time she tried to move the swords together through the movements, one would knock against the other, or one would slice through the air heavier than the other one. A few times when she tried to do some slicing movements about the room — jumping on top of the bed and over the desk — she lost her grip and dropped the sword because it was too heavy. Or sometimes she'd be so busy slicing with one sword that she'd forget about the other one and accidentally clip the edge of a chaise or the wall by accident.
It took hours before she was finally fed up and threw the practice swords in the corner and set one of them on fire in the middle of her rage. Azula quickly looked about the room and made extra sure that no one had see whatever embarrassing juvenile attempts at sword fighting she had been making this entire time. The last thing she needed was Zuko happening upon her trying to mimic her older brother in a sad attempt at besting him at the one thing that he seemed to excel at.
Azula stomped out of Lu Ten's quarters, made her way to the practice room on the other end of the palace, and cycled through the advanced set of Firebending that she was presented with last week to make her feel better.
She was better than Zuko, she thought to herself. She was better than him at everything they tried and there was no changing that.
Except it wasn't true, and Azula was forced to face this fact everytime she happened upon Zuko practicing with those damn swords on his own. It was like a constant jab at her ego. He was good at something. She wasn't as good as she thought she was.
A week later, Zuko was excited about the siblings' presence with their grandfather.
"Why on Earth would you be excited about that?" Azula pressed in annoyance. "It's not as if your Firebending is anything to sneeze at. Quite the opposite actually…"
But Zuko whirled on her and glared. "Who said I was showing off my Firebending?" he growled. "There's more to the measure of a Fire Prince's worth than just Firebending. Look at Lu Ten…"
Azula's eyebrows rose. "What are you showing him?"
But Zuko was already stomping out of the room and down the hall. "None of your business, Azula."
It only took a moment for her to realize what he had been talking about. His damned swords. He'd actually show that to grandfather? Was he crazy?
Then again, maybe he knew exactly what he was doing. Part of why Lu Ten was held in such high regard with Azulon was because he was a sterling example of a master Firebender and a master swordsman. As much as Azula hated to admit it, Zuko shared a similar affinity to sword fighting, and he could do it with two dao swords. It wouldn't matter that Zuko's Firebending was pitiful. His sword fighting would be more than enough to impress the Fire Lord, and then what would Azula have?
She'd be in the shadows. Her brother would, for once in his life, upstage her.
She'd lose her father's favor. The Fire Lord's favor. Her mother probably wouldn't even look at her anymore.
Azula felt fire burning her fingertips and decided that she wouldn't allow that to happen.
The morning of their audience, Azula was adjusting her hair when Zuko had burst into her chambers — frantic and out for blood.
He didn't mince words with her. "Where are they?" he demanded.
Azula shrugged innocently. "I haven't the foggiest idea what you're talking about."
"My swords!" he shouted in a rare display of seething anger. "You've done something with them, I know you have! I need them! Our audience is in an hour!"
Azula chuckled at the thought of her brother's silly old swords — probably melted down in the ballroom fireplace already — and turned to him calmly. "Why, Zuko. I have no idea where your swords are. Why would I take them?"
"You're trying to sabotage me," Zuko muttered dangerously. "I know you are."
Azula tied her ebony colored boots tightly, and smoothed out her clothing. "What you were showing him this afternoon was none of my business, correct?" Azula asked. "How could I be trying to sabotage you if I had no idea what to expect?"
She faced him and smiled at him cruelly. "Make sure to put some more power in that fire punch of yours when you show off your Firebending today. It's always rather embarrassing to watch you screw it up. I mastered that move weeks ago."