Title: Azure
Rating: M
Genre: Angst
Warnings: Graphic character death.
Pairings: Very dark Zutara.

Disclaimer: The characters featured in this story do not belong to me, this is merely a piece of fanfiction, and no profit is being derived from it.

Author's Notes: This is really very dark. Someone requested a story having to do with the Blue Spirit for my drabble collection. I was hit rather strongly with this image, but couldn't do all I wanted to do in 100 words. This is technically set sometime after the second season. Why does Zuko still have the mask? He doesn't, this is a porcelain copy given to him by Azula…

And Now on to Our Feature Presentation:

The masked man looks into her eyes and knows her to be a fool. In her azure eyes he sees warmth and kindness, love and innocence; they are nothing like his sister's knowing eyes of gold. She takes his arm, careful to not hurt him any more than necessary, and it is not without some wonder that he sees her bend the water out of her flask. Stupid, stupid girl, he thinks angrily as she bends the water to heal his broken arm. There is a sudden glow, and he marvels at how much the water looks like his sister's fire, and how little like it it really is. But he retains the gasp before it escapes his lips, and the girl seems to be aware of neither his awe nor his hatred.

His arm mended, he gets up and makes to leave, but she stops him with a gentle hand on his stiff shoulder. Not knowing what else to do, he turns to face her and her damnable eyes once more. She places her healing hand on his mask, dangerously close to the mark of his shame, and he wonders if she knows.

"Aang told me what you did for him," she says, and then she places another hand on his mask. "I'd like to thank you." Her hands move to the masks gruesome lips, and the Prince realizes that she doesn't know. The stupid Waterbender knows nothing at all, nothing.

She closes her eyes, and lifts his mask off his face to expose his lips. Eyes still closed, she moves closer to the Prince and lets her guard down completely. Just like Azula said she would.

Her lips collide with his, and for the first time, he drops his stoic act and responds with all the intensity of a son of fire. This is no chaste peck, but a desperate search in her. Her lips are cool and soothing, and if she detects the faintest hint of charcoal in his breath, he cannot tell. He brings her closer to his body, tightens his hold of her, and sinks his hands into her wild hair.

For a second he ponders how he has never seen Azula's hair down like this. Then he reaches behind him and plunges his sword deep into the girl. Her eyes open in pain, but no gasp escapes, only her life blood which flows into her kiss. His mask falls, and distantly he registers the sound of shattering porcelain.

She seems so stare into his own golden eyes. "You lied to me!" She seems to want to scream, but all that leaves her mouth is blood, and Zuko wonders how something so beautiful can taste so bitter in his mouth. Then the life leaves her eyes, but the warmth remains, and for an instant Zuko mourns the girl who will never heal again.

He pushes the sword further in, until it will go no further and his blood has mixed with hers. If he feels any pain, he ignores it, because Zuko knows all too well that some scars don't deserve to heal.

As the world fades to black and the warmth goes out of his body, he thinks he hears his sister's voice, congratulating him on the excellent job he's done, and how his father will praise him, and the last thought in Zuko's mind is one of worry, because he knows all too well that Azula always lies.

Author's Notes: Ok, so, how dark is this? I'm not sure I'm happy with it, but it's too late for me to evaluate it properly. Therefore, I really would appreciate your earnest reviews and any constructive criticism you may have to offer on the piece. Given your collective input, there may very well be a rewrite of the story up sometime next week.