Redemptive Moments - Cut scenes from What Blooms In the Dark

1. Her Zuko

Azula glanced up from the letter she'd been composing as she heard footsteps racing down the hallway, to glimpse a ponytail as a slight figure dashed by the doorway.

Zuko.

A feral grin split her lips as she abandoned her missive to Mai - poor girl was stuck with her dreadful parents for the rest of the month, and Ty Lee had insisted they should keep in touch: because that's what friends do. The princess had rolled her eyes, stifling her snort at the thought that she,Princess Azula of the Fire Nation, prodigy and favorite child of His Imperial Majesty Fire Lord Ozai, owed any debt of friendship to a low born noble girl like Mai, and allowed her peppy, pink - loving friend to push a brush and inkpot into her disdainful hands.

"Just a minute, Ty Lee," the eleven - year - old assured her companion, who had glanced up worriedly as her princess had risen from the desk they'd commandeered. "I'm just going to go check on my favorite sibling."

"Oh," the acrobat replied brightly. "Want me to - "

"It's fine, really. You should stay and finish your letter. That way you can pester me about mine later."

At the younger girl's smiling agreement, Azula took off down the hall. Zuko had been heading in the direction of his rooms, and he generally didn't run through the halls without a good reason - Azula smirked as she remember the tongue lashing he'd received the last time their father had caught him being wild indoors - and seeing as the palace did not appear to be in imminent danger of collapsing, it probably meant her older brother was crying. Again.

Frowning slightly as she dodged a maid, she wondered what exactly had happened on his little birthday tour. Ever since he'd come back, he'd been like a corpse: deathly silent, pale even for a child of Fire Nation ancestry, staring sightlessly at empty space for hours on end, before breaking down in another one of his childish crying fits that'd become common for him since Mother . . .

Stiffening in spite of herself, Azula's smile turned sour. Oh, stop it, Azula. You have Father's love and attention: that's more than enough. Mother didn't care about you anyway. Just forget her already.

Forcing herself to envision all the fun she was about to have humiliating Zuko about his tears, she marched right up to his door, yanking on the knob.

Locked. Dear spirits, she could hear him hyperventilating all the way out here. How embarrassing.

Well, nothing to be done but what she was already here for. After all, it was her sisterly duty to personally and publicly harass and embarrass him.

Pulling a pin from her silky dark hair, Azula cheerfully popped it in the lock, twiddling it expertly till her sharp ears caught that tell - tale little ping of success. With a grin, she grandly pushed the door open, stepped inside, and . . .

Her jaw hit the floor, every drop of blood draining from her face.

Zuko: her Zuko, her stupid, overemotional, pathetic loser of an elder brother, her brother, her Zuko, lay sprawled on the floor before her, wrists slit open and blood gushing out of him, a knife gleaming inches away from his outstretched fingers in the light from the hallway, as his flickering lashes drifted shut.

And then she was on her hands and knees, gripping his bleeding wrists and calling his name, because he was Zuko and he was hers and he couldn't leave her all alone like this because he was her brother and she didn't give him permission and oh, please don't leave me here like Mom did - do you hear me? You're supposed to take care of me, Zuko!

And he was slipping away, and for once Azula didn't know what to do, only that she was losing and she never lost, she was the prodigy - she always succeeded! Tears burned the corners of her vision, and her little hands clamped around his thin wrists, desperately trying to staunch the flow - and that's when it hit her.

Biting her lip, with the quietest 'I'm sorry, Zuko', she tightened her grasp, and heat surged from her palms.

The smell of burnt flesh filled the room, making her wrinkle her nose in distaste, but as she carefully lifted her hands from his arms, she noted with shaking relief that the bleeding had ceased, the wounds cauterized by the hand - shaped burns she'd left on his forearms.

"Don't you dare die, Zuko," the princess whispered harshly, standing and wiping her bloodied hands on her skirt.

Turning, Azula closed the door firmly behind her, and marched off in the direction of the nearest bell -pull.

"Yes, Princess?" gasped a servant, rushing forward and kneeling before the preteen.

"Fetch Uncle. Tell him to come to Prince Zuko's room immediately." Pausing for a moment, she bit her lip. "Oh, and have my maid draw me a bath. I can't possibly be expected to put up with this filth."

The girl's eyes widened as she took in her mistress's bloodstained hands and dress, and she bowed again, backing away hastily. "Yes, your majesty!"

Well, at least there's a bright side to all this.

After all, Princess Azula loved terrorizing the servants only slightly less than tormenting her brother.

Hiya!

This little ficlet is a series of Azula-centric scenes that were cut out of my fic, What Blooms In the Dark, as there was no place for them in it. However, they do contain poignant details of the story, and I hope you all will enjoy them. Readers who haven't already read What Blooms In the Dark, should be aware that the scene described here is not canon, and fits solely in the story I created it for: and I highly advise that you do check it out, as this ficlet probably doesn't make much sense if you haven't.

Thanks, and happy reading!

~Evil