Chapter Thirteen: Defiance of Silence

It was just the three of them.

Two mothers and a child.

The cold air of silence was chilling, almost desperate for the heat of words. The only audible sounds were the restless coos of the baby at the crown of the bundle.

Azula wished it would all just stop; the world would stop turning. She had struggled to redeem herself, struggled to fight the madness of uncontrolled insanity.

And it has all crumbled.

Oh, Agni, why don't I ever get my way?

The princess then stood and gave a stabbing frown at her mother. She then strode past her and took hold of her undergarments that had been taken from her during her labors and pulled then up to her waist. Ursa didn't dare stare back; she knew Azula wouldn't have it. Once the task was done, Azula slumped down onto the stained floor. She winced at the lasting pain between her legs but she did not concern herself; the blood was dry anyway. She raised her legs and placed her arms on her knees. She buried her head into the ring of her limbs, masking her shame.

Despite the unsure dominance Azula had on the situation, Ursa felt obliged to walk up to her.

And she did just that.

The once Firelady tapped her agitated foot, a disappointed look took over her features. Azula raised her head at this. The gold in their eyes met almost viciously; the past they had shared attacking them.

"Azula," Ursa pleaded, "this is not the way to welcome my grandchild.

"Your son."

Azula scoffed, "Let me be the judge of that, Mother. I don't need your flattery, nor do I need your praise, not that I expect to get it."

Ursa shook her head slowly, "I'm not condemning you for this," she patted the baby's side, visualizing her point, "because I don't care who did it.

"I'm just blessed, is all."

With that, Azula looked away at once. She felt a pang of retaliation, of resentment.

So, she will live to love him and not me?

She'll be there for him.

But she was never there for me when I needed her.

She voiced this: "You love him, don't you? You barely know him at all. But you don't love me.

"You never did."

Ursa carefully sat down next to her, watching her step with the child in her arms. She scooted close to Azula, invading that personal boundary line that the princess never allowed anyone to occupy.

Ursa swapped the child into her left arm and wrapped her right one around Azula's shoulder. She shuttered at this, but did not fight out of a rare common courtesy. The closeness of the bodies created an invisible smog of warmth; it brought unnecessary discomfort to the already sweating princess.

Ursa then took a huge risk and seized Azula's arms and placed the baby into them. Surprisingly to her, the girl did not move, didn't even try to rip herself from the grasp.

Didn't even try to drop my own son…

It was as if something clicked, a machine turned on. The smoke of progression, the torch of discovery, it propelled the juices that had long since ceased their flow inside her. His puny head was against her clothed chest and his frail, premature heart slowly mimicked hers at its very best. His hand again tried to grab at her, his fingers slipped into her matted, dried hair. He clenched his hand onto it, but he was somewhat unsatisfied with how it felt on his unsure palm. In his pout of disgust, he tugged at it rebelliously, but gave a sweet little coo to calm his mood.

She just did not know how to react, how to contemplate the insecurities she found herself selfishly clinging to. Azula remembered a feeling like this one, but it was so distant that she had trouble even releasing it out on her face. Just as those boys on Ember Island had intrigued her, she found herself amused by the silly quirks of the newborn.

What am I feeling now? Is it revelation, truth, awe?

But emotions are silly distractions, mucky things that poison the demon of humanity. I have never let myself express them. I'd rather live stoically, not to be slapped around by the toys of feelings.

But…

I do now…

Because he is something I never had.

Responsibility, perhaps. Maternal duty.

"Well, what do you think?"

Azula snapped out of whatever she was thinking to listen to her mother. She was still eternally angered, of course, but gave no protest to her somewhat shallow words.

Think? How am I supposed to think?

Excuse me for not knowing how to react to my son.

Maybe if you had been there to raise me into a dignified lady, maybe I would know how to react…

She cleared her throat, a raspy sound indicating her need for water, "I'm not about to pour into my opinions about him. It's not something I am willing to talk about."

"Azula," Ursa pleaded, "I'm ready to talk to you. There is so much left to be said about our relationship."

"Don't give me a teary confession. You just want my attention so you can get close to your grandson."

She shot her arms out roughly, the baby fussing in fear. His upset little arms were thrashing in the air.

This saddened Ursa: how her own daughter would abuse her own son like that. She pressed her warm hand against his tiny body, pushing him back at Azula's chest. This silenced him momentarily. He began to slobber a bit; his lips became coated with it. His hands began to fumble with his mouth, his feeble attempt to point out his newborn hunger.

"Feed him." Ursa said almost coldly, dryly, perhaps.

Azula silently questioned this request, not entirely pleased about stripping herself again. Her nose crinkled in disgust.

"Look, Azula, I am a mother too. I had two newborns in my life. It isn't like you can just ignore this."

She is right about that.

Azula had no other choice but to relent. With a scornful eye, she dropped her breast to the child. Her hands were unsteady at this, and the motion was quite sloppy. The child also had a bit of trouble latching, but this was a common thing.

Ursa assisted in positioning the little boy in her arms. This helped quite a bit and the connection was successful.

It was as if time had frozen, as if life had died all around the three of them. The soundless drumming in the hushed room was a wicked reminder of how alone the princess felt in the world.

But all of that shattered, loneliness was not real. Bodies provided a heat of existence that the girl needed to move on.

And her eyes took it all in. It was a marvel of the need that this little thing had for her. To think that it all began in the womb, human life never deemed to die.

All of that selfish greed, that egotistical demeanor, that desire for attention, left her at the moment her baby met her breast. Even though it immediately seemed that he was taking a part of her away for his own wishes, Azula never felt more righteous, more expandable, more allowing.

She took a loving glance into his eyes. He returned the motion, taking his eye off of her chest for one instant. She teased his light wisps of hair on his almost bald head. The faint color was a simple connection to his father. She had no way of guessing where anything else would go, but his face was the most obvious beyond his hair. Everything about his looks reminded the young mother of the man she made love to in that prison cell, the man she had clumsily flirted with on Ember Island.

This was the product of all that they shared, the sum of all the good in her life. It was something that looked up to her for guidance, looked up to her for its every whim. She would not be dominated, but rather, she would be served by this child out of his kindness, his adoration and love.

Ursa sighed relaxingly out of honest relief, "He loves you, Azula."

Azula took this as an initiative. She turned and faced the speaker and waited calmly, the soothing feeling of the baby's suckles comforting her.

"There is a reason that he is here in your life, my daughter. It is your responsibility to birth the next generation of the Fire Nation. From your mistakes, there is a power to restore what fire really is.

"It is love. It is life. It is a heart that beats."

My vision before my coronation…

She said that to me…

"But motherhood just the same. It is a part of your life, to be the mother of the Fire Nation's next generation.

"You were born into this family for a reason, my daughter."

"I heard that Zuko had to go through something similar to this before the comet arrived."

"Indeed. You know, if you really want to know the truth, I found out that you were right about Ozai's plan to kill your brother. I'm ashamed to say that I didn't believe you. Perhaps if I had, I could have spared my own banishment and spent more time with you as your mother."

"I know why you didn't." Azula said tenderly.

"Because I always lied about everything. I lied to make Zuko look worse off than I was. The strange thing is it didn't even seem to hurt me as I did it. I felt no regret, no guilt at all.

"I want to say that I do now. I'm sorry for all that shame that I put on you."

A tear slithered down her face and landed on the baby's hand as it kneaded her breast.

"I know you are. I let Ozai raise you; I didn't even give you a chance to be my child.

"You are not a monster, nothing was ever incorrect about you. You had no way of knowing that you were in the wrong because that's how your father handled you."

"But I did know, I always knew. My heart wanted righteousness so bad that it ached. But Father told me that emotions of love are immoral to the fire in me. He said that my drive should always be domination. Being the youngest child, I knew that he was wrong.

"But I did nothing. I stood there while he beat me and kicked me to the floor. I was punished for every right move and praised for every wrong.

"I am a monster, not a prodigy."

"No, my child. You have redeemed yourself from all of that. Confession is a way to come clean. If there still is a flame in your heart, let it out in a new drive.

"Your son."

Ursa nodded at the baby, who had since detached himself and was groggily burying his head into his mother's shoulder in attempt to fall asleep.

The princess smiled genuinely for the first time in her life. For once, the motion was not at all difficult: it was smooth and assured.

But the door to the room was abruptly opened and Zuko stepped in. The sound woke the child and his cries echoed on the walls. The Firelord paid no attention to this as he crossed his arms and stood his ground in front of his half-naked sister. His eyes roamed hungrily, which was completely out of his noble character.

"Do you mind?" she said wincingly.

He cleared his throat authoritatively, "Your sentence is not fully finished in this prison, and there is no way that you are going to raise a child here. As Firelord I have come to the decision of taking him and raising him at the palace. There, he will not go corrupt as you have.

"Give him to me."

No!

She abruptly levitated and shot a blast of blue flame in her brother's face, the baby screaming in her arms. He dodged it and grabbed her wrists in a tight squeeze. He stared her straight in the eye, obviously flustered that she still had the audacity to attack her Firelord like that. The assault, as he took it, was a statement of the fact that she had not yet learned anything from her imprisonment.

"I am your Firelord, Azula. Your signal of disrespect just adds to your crimes."

Ursa then rose as well.

Azula kicked in protest, "And you think I don't know that already? What more are you going to steal from me? You stole my honor, my throne, and the Fire Nation's love, but I do not care for these materialistic things anymore.

"I will not allow you to take this child from me," she peered down at her baby quickly, noting that he fearfully clung to her chest with a tight fist.

"Look at him, Zuko. He is your nephew, your blood relative. You think I have not the ability to love. You think I have not the ability to nurture, but I do.

"I love him, and I love his father too."

"Tell me who it is, now." Zuko hissed his demand with a curl of the lip.

"Why should I offer you anything? You show no respect for me, my child, or the efforts of bringing him into this world.

"Quite honestly, I thought you were better than that. I really had hoped that you would give him a nice welcome. You are acting like me back when I was fourteen, and that isn't setting a good example, considering that you deem me a schizophrenic."

"That doesn't prove anything to me, Azula. You are a liar, a dirty liar. That's all you have ever been to me. Probably all you will ever be."

Azula gave a hurt look and absently began covering up her exposed breast. Zuko, as expected, did not look away, perhaps afraid that she was planning something diabolical as she usually did.

The absolution never came to him.

"Look, I know you don't trust me, and it is quite appropriate, considering our shared past. But why do you put that kind of disrespect on my baby? He did nothing to you. Did you ever learn that children are innocent at this age? He knows no sin, knows no impurities. Why must you continue to treat him the way you treat me?"

"Because the fact that he is even here is a mystery that has yet to be solved. I am more concerned with the murder that surrounds his existence if you really want to know the truth."

The princess gave a completely helpless stare at him, a single tear rolling down her face.

"How could you…?"

She turned her back to him and sat on the floor bordered by her dried blood. She held her baby close to her, arms wrapping delicately around his covered figure. She listened to his scared whimpers at the sight of his crude uncle and she agreed with his wordless terminology.

Ursa, seemingly out of the whole confrontation, glared angrily at the Firelord.

"Zuko, your sister is a changed woman, a mother. How dare you question that? This child is hers to raise, not yours. Give her a chance. She has been in prison for three long years, and I know for a fact that she is cured of any diagnosis your silly doctors have put on her.

"Let her go, it's time…"