gemsofformenos:

Thanks. I feel like it was one of those things where it started with Azulon; he created a rift between Ozai and Iroh. Ozai created that same rift in his own family, but with a wife included. I feel like Ozai and Ursa are very hugely responsible for the fire siblings' resentment of each other. If you pick favorites then you get children who are jealous of each other. And of course the grass is always greener on the other side. And how eventually the two of them kind of stopped trying to appease the parent they were out of favor with and perhaps sunk into the roles to spite them. "How Iroh did nothing to help them, earlier, when there might have been a chance to help both siblings." This is kind of a sad thing to me. I'm not going to blame Iroh because in canon-if I remember right-he wasn't even around. But for the sake of drama in the fic, he is. And he had a chance to help them but he was at a loss/overwhelmed so he just kind of watched.


A splendid fire dances on her finger tips.

This isn't how it was supposed to be.

Zuko surges at her with full fury and what she is certain is no mercy. Azula returns the relentlessness in full. A burst of orange flame hits her in the side and she topples, rolling a few times, each motion sending a new sensation of pain coiling all over her body. She stands back up, fighting with her own body for energy. She pants softly, she can't recall ever tiering so fast. Yet, she hasn't slept in days. It is taking its toll.

He taunts and mocks. And then he falls.

This isn't how it was supposed to be.

The electricity still tingles on her fingertips. Soft sparks reminding her that she had just shot her own brother down. That he is laying on his back, convulsing some. Maybe dying. Despite her own words, she has trouble fathoming that this was how it all was meant to unfold.

For her.

For him.

For the both of them.

The sound of water echos in her ears.

A loathsome sound.

A terrible one.

Her world is growing ever more distant. She is losing touch with it. No. She had already lost touch with it. She is simply losing it more and more. And the waterbender provokes her still. She wants to cry out, to put her hands to her ears and drown it out; the splashing and the unrelenting voices both. They distract her. But she doesn't have time for crying nor holding her hands to her ears. She has to fight. She has to win.

It is all she has left.

Her arms are bound behind her back.

She is soaked to the core. Humiliated.

This isn't how it was supposed to be.

She has made a spectacle of herself. A cackling, mad spectacle. Deep down she wishes that Katara would have just left her under the ice to drown. It would have been a mercy. Instead she has to think. She has to think about how she has lost and how she isn't herself anymore. How she might never be herself again. She is on the edge of sobbing but she keeps her tears in check. She won't give the waterbender the satisfaction of seeing her weep.

And then he stands up.

A scream tears from her throat.

A fountain of flame spills from her lips.

She aches all over.

This wasn't how it was supposed to be.

Frankly, the sound is foreign. She has trouble processing that it comes from her own mouth. They look at her with sorrow and pity and she wants to flee. Steal away to somewhere more private where she can mourn the loss of herself and her potential without scrutiny. But she is tethered. She can no longer fight, neither can she retreat. She is forced to stay there, emotionally naked. She wishes that they would stop looking at her like she is some kind of cornered animal-with fear, concern, and sorrow in their eyes. She wishes that they would leave her to deal with her shame alone.

This was supposed to be her special day. Her coronation ceremony.

This isn't how it was supposed to be.