Winner
By: Panakin
Beta: Forever Fyre
Azula glared at her brother, who stood at the opposite end of the battlefield. He always was a pest. She couldn't believe that they were related, or that he was Mommy's little favorite.
Their mother . . . no not their mother, his mother. Zuko glared back at her; a bloodthirsty gaze that showed nothing but hate. Katara was screaming, at least inside her head. How could Zuko be so stupid? Azula was going to kill him, and show no mercy while doing so.
It began; the beginning of the end.
Though Zuko would never admit it, he didn't actually hate his sister. He should, he knew he should, but he . . . he couldn't. Not even when she shot him with lighting. He heard Katara running towards him, but he didn't care. He wanted to die. He didn't want to live in a world where brother and sister had to kill each other, where a husband banishes his wife . . . for protecting their son. He thought he heard the sound of another bolt of Azula's lightning hitting something, but it was probably just his imagination. But, wait, if it was just his imagination. . .
Why was Katara screaming?
Azula had that Water Tribe peasant right where she wanted her, on the ground, writhing in pain, now, if only she would beg for mercy. That would make her day.
Her day hadn't 'been made' for a long time. . .
A little Azula was sitting with her two best friends, Mai and Ty Lee, by the turtle-duck pond.
"Azula," the acrobatic little brunette with her long brown hair in pig tails, said. "Why didn't we bring any bread to feed the baby turtle-ducks?"
"Because Ty Lee," Azula began in that condescending tone her father had taught her.
"She forgot," finished Mai, for once her jet black tresses were falling, unchecked, over the shoulders of her crimson Fire Nation dress.
Azula glared her cute little glare, the one that made babies cry, made her brother mad, her father proud, and her mother laugh. Ursa found it amusing that some people found the little five year-old, with her midnight-sky toned hair, that was always pulled back into a bun with her bangs hanging out and her chubby cheeks scary. How could anyone find her intimidating? Her mother's reaction always confused Azula.
"Azula might have," a soothing voice called from behind them. The girls turned. There stood Ursa, her hair the same shade as Azula's, pulled back in an elegant twist, that Azula thought defied the laws of gravity. She was wearing black robes that were trimmed with gold, and she carried a loaf of bread. "But I didn't," she finished.
She sat down next to the girls.
"Mother, what are you—"
"If you three don't mind I thought I would spend the day with you," Ursa said, smiling.
Azula simply nodded, feigning indifference, but in reality it made, not only her day, but her entire little week.
It would be so easy; the girl wasn't even coming to yet!
Azula was going to do it; she was going to kill the Water Tribe Pest.
Six year old Azula was sitting next to her father in the royal box at the Fire Nation Combat Arena, her mother and Zuko were in the seats behind them. The contestants below were battling for their lives, one would slash at the other with her razor-sharp sword and the other would swing his, his, his, giant ball thing with the spikes, that not even Ozai had known the name of. Azula thought it was called a mace.
Finally, the contestant with the sword had been knocked to the ground and the victorious opponent looked to the royal box, waiting to see what Ozai, being the most powerful royal present, would say about the young woman's fate.
Ozai turned to his son. "Well, prince Zuko, what do you think?"
Zuko looked at his mother, took a deep breath, looked his father in the eye and said. "I think that people killing each other for sport is barbaric."
Ozai frowned, and just like always, when Zuko disappointed him, he turned to Azula. "What about you Azula? What should this young woman's fate be?"
Azula looked from her father to her mother. She knew the right answer. And she knew what he wanted her to say. But she convinced herself that they were one-in-the-same.
"She lost, ergo, he is weak. And weaklings must be destroyed."
Ozai smiled, and turned his thumb upside down, showing the winning contestant, who had now become an executioner, what he was to do with the loser.
"Azula!" Ursa practically screeched. Ozai glared at his wife.
"What?" Azula asked.
"A word," Ursa glanced at Ozai and Zuko. "Alone."
Azula looked at her father for help. She had pleased him; surely he wouldn't let her down.
He did.
Azula and her mother stepped out of the royal box into an empty hallway.
"Azula, how could you do that?"
"Do what?"
"You know exactly what, how could you have sentenced that poor girl to death?" Ursa was aghast, horrified and livid all at the same time.
"She was weak. The Fire Nation is not weak. She had to be eliminated." It was simple.
"Azula," Ursa sighed. She had once thought she loved Ozai, now, seeing what he had done to an innocent child, her child, she hated him. "How do I explain this?" she asked herself. "That girl was someone's daughter. She had a family that loved her. It is wrong to take a person's life."
"But she was nothing!" Azula protested. "A peasant! A—"
"Azula! Royalty or no, she was just as human as you or I are. She had thoughts and feelings, how could you even say that?"
"But father says—"
"Stop listening to that man!" Ursa exploded. She couldn't help it. Ozai was turning her daughter into a . . . a monster. She took some soothing breaths and kneeled down to Azula's - who was still shocked at her mother's outburst - level. "Azula, that girl had family and friends and a mother who loved her as much as I love you. To snuff out a life is to . . . kill a piece of yourself as well. To take a life is to let him win."
She got ready to strike her opponent down, the way her father had shown her.
Suddenly, she realized, her mother had loved her.
"But mother, I don't understand," Azula told Ursa when she took her to get something sweet.
"You're a brilliant girl Azula, you will, one day," she once again kneeled down to Azula's level. "Azula, do you know who you are?"
"Yes," Azula said. "I am Azula, daughter of Prince Ozai of the Fire Nation, ergo I am Princess Azula," didn't Ursa know this?
"No, Azula," Ursa said. "You are so much more."
"I—"
"Don't understand?" Ursa finished as she stood up, handed the vender some money and gave Azula her sweet that resembled cotton candy. "You will."
It was Ozai's fault. He had banished Ursa, banished Zuko, warped Azula's mind to be evil. And this, this, Water Tribe peasant, she had lost her mother too. It would be wrong to kill her. Azula relaxed her position, and backed away. Ozai would have wanted her to kill Katara.
Azula was on the floor, her little hand went to the red hand mark on her cheek where her father had just smacked her, literally across the room, after not completing a set of fire bending attacks to his satisfaction.
"But, father," the Fire Nation Princess was saying. "It was almost perfect."
His frown deepened into a scowl of anger, and sick pleasure at causing pain. "Do it again. And do it right. Almost isn't good enough."
The worst part of it was that it was her thirteenth birthday.
She got up and did it right.
She let him win.
Azula hated Ozai.
A little Azula was shaken awake by a very distraught Ursa. "Azula, Azula, sweetheart, I need you to listen to me. No matter what, remember two things, I love you and do not let him win."
She gently let Azula back down on the pillows and walked away, out of Azula's life.
She wouldn't betray her mother, she couldn't.
Azula would not let him win.
Azula looked at her brother, then at Katara. And a tear escaped her eye. Katara was a little extra crispy, but nowhere near as bad as Zuko.
Azula ran to her brother's side and she didn't even bother to hold the tears back when she felt her big brothers pulse and there was hardly anything.
"Somebody, help!" she screamed, frantic, and then she used the one 'P' word that her father had never allowed to pass through her lips.
"Please!" the few servants and guards that she hadn't banished came running. "Help him," she glanced at Katara, who was staggering to push herself up. She was conscious now. "And her," she added as an afterthought.
The servants summoned the royal physician and carried Zuko and Katara into the palace. They placed Zuko on his bed and Katara, on Azula's orders, into the Princess' own bed.
Azula ran to sit down next to her brother after the physician had examined him. She looked at the small metal object in her hand, the object all of this happened over. She would have destroyed it, but instead she placed it on Zuko's pillow next to his face, which now had more than one scar on it. She took his hand in both of hers.
"I'm sorry," she whispered. She half expected him to say;
"You're never sorry."
But he didn't, he didn't say anything.
"I really am. I, I, didn't really want to burn the world to the ground. I just wanted father to love me. But he doesn't, and mom's gone and Mai and Ty Lee left me . . ."
Princess Azula walked down the Fire Nation prison where her former friends were being held and stopped at their cell, and entered. Mai and Ty Lee looked up.
"You betrayed me."
To Azula's surprise it wasn't Mai who responded.
"No, Azula, you betrayed us," Ty Lee didn't say it softly, but she didn't spit it out either. She just—said it.
"You helped my brother and that Water Tribe boy escape! How can you say that I betrayed you?" Azula didn't ask, no, she demanded.
"I love Zuko, more than I fear you," Mai repeated calmly. "And besides," she said in that infuriatingly indifferent way of hers. "Real friends don't make their friends fear them. You had it coming."
"Fear is the only method that works!" Azula stormed out, leaving Mai and Ty Lee to pity her.
"You're all I have left. I, I don't want to be Fire Lord," not anymore. Not now that she sees what power has done to her. "Please Zuko," not ZuZu, now she hated that nickname too. "Don't die, I know you probably won't forgive me, but," she put the Fire Lord crown that she had had brought in on his bed. "Please try."
She choked on her own tears. Normally she would have been embarrassed to be seen like this. But now all that mattered was him.
"Zuko, I'm scared."
Zuko opened his eyes gently and looked at his baby sister, he had never seen her this way; crying, wanting him to be alright, scared. He tried to force a smile, "Don't call me that." He rasped gently, looked at the crown and slipped back into unconsciousness.
She got up and walked out of the room and spotted the man who was going to crown her before the Agni Kai had started. "You!" she called and he ran over.
"Y-yes, y-y-y-y-your h-h-i-g-g-g-ghnesss-s-s?" he asked nervously.
"Release Mai and Ty Lee," Azula commanded, staring out a window. The man stared at her. Azula looked at him sharply. "Immediately." He did so.
A few hours later a messenger ran in, breathless. "Phoenix King Ozai has been defeated by Avatar Aang!"
"Yes!" Azula exclaimed. For one glorious moment everything was right.
She was sorry for what she had done when she was under Ozai's influence, but at the moment that didn't matter, because. . .
She had done it.
She hadn't let him win.
She hadn't betrayed her Mother.
She hadn't betrayed Mai and Ty Lee.
She had won.