It was two days after their return from Ember Island that Fire Lord Ozai, who hadn't as much as looked at Azula since then, requested her presence for dinner. Supping with her father always made her anxious in a way she couldn't quite describe. They were pleasant evenings, for the most part, but the obvious absence of her mother (and brother, for the duration of his three years banishment) brought with it a discomfort. Like a reminder that they were only playing at being family. That they would always only ever be incomplete. Conversation with her father was always stilted, honestly more like another war meeting than a family dinner. They spoke about politics and her training and not much beyond that.

But with Zuko back, these events became significantly more pleasant again. They'd had two family dinners since his return and Azula was honestly looking forward to this evening. With only one family member missing, they didn't feel quite as incomplete as when they'd been left only with half.

In preparation, Azula picked out one of her mother's old ceremonial dresses and had Su help her into it. The sheer amount of layers and bows and knots meant that dressing took significantly longer than it usually did, but she didn't fret – they had plenty of time, for she'd known about the dinner hours in advance. Doing her hair also took much longer, with dozens of pins and ornaments to keep every hair in place.

Mother's clothes fit her better now than they did a few months ago, before she'd left for her mission. She'd barely noticed her own growth, but it was clear now that she'd grown a few centimetres since then. That the hem of the skirt didn't trail awkwardly to the floor anymore, that the sleeves were no longer impossibly long. The face that looked out at her from the mirror was uncomfortably not-hers, and she chatted with Su as she pinned up her hair in an attempt to distract herself from her own reflection.

Her handmaid's brother was apparently doing better than Su had expected, which was an obvious relief to all involved - even, Azula admitted, to herself. It would be a horrid shame if Su decided to leave her post here to move closer to her family in his illness. But her handmaid returned in much better spirits after her visit and quite eagerly returned to her duties. Even so, hearing about her family had sent Azula into a strange sort of mood. Obviously, she knew that Suyin had a life outside of the palace, outside of her, but hearing about her hometown and family and the people she so loved was… upsetting, somehow. She supposed she'd never really considered that servants had their own lives. It had always seemed so inconsequential, after all. Not now, though. Not with Su.

She kept those thoughts to herself, though. No use berating Su for sharing details of her personal life. It would either come off as rude or petty, neither of which Azula meant. And she'd even admit that she liked hearing her talk. It was a welcome distraction from her own thoughts, but also… just a nice way to spend some time.

Su finished her hair and then painted her face. Put on those horrid ruby earrings that had also, once, belonged to Lady Ursa. With everything done, and the hour approaching, it was time to go and so they left the room and walked to the royal family's dining room together, side by side. They didn't come across Zuko in the halls – maybe he was already with Father. More likely that he would be late.

"Be back here in two hours," Azula said. She never knew how long these dinners would last, but it was a safe bet. There was absolutely no need for Su to stand around here, idle, for all that time.

"Have a good meal, princess," her handmaid said with a sweet smile.

Azula nodded. The guards opened the door and she stepped inside the dining room. Father was already seated at the table. It was set with plates and teacups and chopsticks, but the food would only be brought in once everyone was present and ready for the meal to begin. There were a few servants at the ready, but apart from them and Father, the room was empty. Evidently, they were still waiting for Zuko.

"Father," Azula bowed in greeting.

"Sit, my daughter," Ozai said, and only then did Azula righten herself.

She took her place across from the Fire Lord at the table, kneeling down onto the pillow seat. The ceremonial dress was long and restricting in its many stiff layers and made even sitting a challenge, but she settled down into her usual pristine posture and smoothed out her skirt. A servant poured them both tea, and Azula waited, respectfully, until Ozai drank from his teacup before she as much as picked up her own.

"I hope you enjoyed your holiday," Ozai said.

"Yes," said Azula, "Very much so. Thank you, Father."

It was not like him to make small talk. Conversation about politics would be more natural than this - maybe even what Azula would have preferred - but it was nice, somehow, to talk about vacation. It was familiar. Familial. They spoke about Ember Island. Reminiscenced a little, from holidays spent together years and years ago.

When the servants brought in the first course, Azula couldn't help but ask, "Should we not wait for Zuko?"

"Your brother's presence is unnecessary today."

Though he'd stated it so simply, Azula felt her blood run cold. Why was Zuko not invited to their family dinner? Excluded? Why did Father want to speak to her alone? There was no helping the conclusions her mind jumped through. Surely there were a thousand possible reasons for this. But the most worrying was also the most probable.

Had Ozai found out they'd lied about who killed the Avatar?

But he did not surrender any more information about Zuko, and Azula knew better than to ask. The conversation reverted to something a little more pleasant as they ate, but Azula couldn't shake her anxiety. It gnawed at her all throughout dinner, that terrible worry about Father's true intentions. Who would be punished more severely for that lie, she or Zuko? Was this dinner itself retribution, the consequences waiting until they finished their meal? Or was being excluded from it the punishment? If he asked – was there any use in denying it still? Should she come clean and admit her falsehood, or push it all on Zuko? Would that even be possible at this point–?

The minutes seemed to drag on into eternity. Ozai ate at a languid pace, and Azula mirrored him as much as she could, praying that her anxiety did not show. That if she ate slowly, she would not betray just how desperate she was to find out what this was all about.

"Your time in the Earth Kingdom was very well spent," Ozai said as the servants brought out dessert, "I imagine you must be bored, to be back here, with nothing to do."

Azula perked up. Was this more small talk, or was this what Ozai had called her in for? Was he– going to promote her responsibilities? Or assign her another mission? That would not be unwelcome. She'd proved her fealty and abilities to their country and was eager to take on more commitments and prove herself further.

"Not at all, Father. My duties here keep me busy. But I am your loyal servant; I will serve our nation in whatever way I can."

"Good," Ozai actually smiled as he lifted his teacup to his lips, "Because I've come to an arrangement during your holiday's absence. You've proved yourself competent throughout your most fruitful mission. You deserve a reward."

Azula reddened at his words, at the affection she did not often hear, "You are too kind."

"For this reason," Ozai continued, "I have decided to name you Earth Queen, and you will rule the Earth Kingdom as my proxy."

The words hung in the air. Azula blinked. Had she heard wrong? Earth Queen? Marriage? She couldn't believe what her father had just said, and briefly wondered whether he'd made a joke. No – Father never joked. Still, she laughed, a nervous chuckle tearing itself from her throat in disbelief.

"Earth Queen?" She spluttered, "That's ridiculous."

"Hardly," Ozai didn't seem at all amused. "I thought long over whom I should name my delegate in Ba Sing Se, and I can think of no one better than my own flesh and blood. With your brother reinstated as Crown Prince, that role falls to you."

"You're– sending me away?"

"I have no need of you here any longer," Ozai stated. "You will be of more use acting as my proxy in Ba Sing Se than lounging idly in the palace here."

That stung. Her heart panged. To hear her father express in words that he didn't need her…

"But my place is here, by your side in the Fire Nation – not half a world away in a colony–"

"A colony that you conquered. You should be honoured, Azula. To be the Earth Queen is a station greater than your birthright. Your brother will one day be Fire Lord and you have no claim to a higher station. This is a most fitting reward for the one who brought the Impenetrable City to its knees."

"I–" Azula drew in a shaky breath and forced a smile, "I– I suppose. Queen Azula… It's quite something."

He was right – she'd been born fifth in line to the throne. She'd never imagined she'd be Fire Lord, she'd never hoped for or even dreamt of it. Lu Ten, Iroh, Ozai, Zuko… the throne was their right before it would ever be hers, and she'd never dreamt of stealing it from them. Never much wanted to be Fire Lord, anyway. She enjoyed being the princess, obviously, but she'd never demanded more.

To be named Earth Queen was a great honour. Surely Father meant only to reward her.

"Even so," Azula said, "The people would never accept me as their queen. They are as particular about their royal bloodline as we. I'd only be a foreign usurper. It would be a meaningless title."

"You're right. They are a stubborn people, set in their own ways. That's why," Ozai said, "You will marry King Kuei."

"...What?"

Azula's mind whirred. This all seemed so impossible. Was she sick? Was this a fever dream? A hallucination?

"It is already arranged. This way our countries will be respectfully joined and the people of Ba Sing Se will yield to your rule – and through it, mine – more smoothly. They will have no reason to reject you as Queen. It is a gesture of goodwill on our behalf – they can consider it less a conquest and more a unification."

"Why should we give them a gesture at all?" Azula felt herself grow frantic. She knew she shouldn't raise her voice with her father, but she could hardly help the bite in her words. "The city fell thanks to me. I won it over! It is already ours – why should I have to submit myself to– to that fool? Since when do you care about the people's comfort?"

"It will ease the process of integration," Ozai said. "Would you rather we burn the country to the ground?"

"No…" That would be stupid. The Fire Nation, being a rocky island country, was not a fertile land. They had a few rice paddies, and plenty of fishing grounds, but very little other agriculture. Not much wanted to grow in these poor conditions. Their near infinite amounts of ore and precious metals were what allowed their architecture and technology to progress so much in comparison to the other parts of the world, but famine had always been their country's biggest threat. Colonising the Earth Kingdom allowed them to export their precious harvests to the Fire Nation to feed their people. To torch those very farmlands would be to wish death upon both their countries.

"Then integration it is."

"Even so– must I marry?"

Ozai sighed, a great, heavy thing, as though this conversation were the most tedious thing in the world. As though it were all so very simple.

"Yes," he said. "You must. This way, your children will have indisputable claim to the Earth Kingdom through their double royal lineage."

"My children?" Azula spluttered, "I'm– I'm much too young."

Ozai regarded her for a moment, "How old are you, Azula?"

He spoke in such an unconcerned tone that Azula wondered whether she'd only imagined it. Did he not know? Or did he only want to make her say it? She had no idea which it was. She had no idea which she'd prefer it to be.

She licked her lips, "Fifteen."

"And have you bled yet?"

It took her a moment to realise what he meant, what exactly he'd asked her. The realisation made her face flush and she found that she couldn't look at her father anymore – she let her gaze fall to her hands, un-princesslike, as she picked at her cuticles. She'd only ever spoken about that with Su. Not even with Mai and Ty Lee. Somehow, she'd thought– she'd thought that men didn't know about such an intimate, womanly thing. That it was a secret of sorts. To hear her father speak of it out loud, to ask her about it so directly…

"Yes," Azula mumbled, and immediately wished she'd lied.

"Then," Ozai nodded, "You are old enough to marry."

She was dumb-struck for a moment, "But, Father–"

"Silence yourself, Azula. I will hear no more of it." Ozai snapped.

Clearly, his patience was running thin. Azula recoiled at his harsh words, at his icy tone. She couldn't look at him. Her world was crumbling around her and she was powerless to stop it.

"You misunderstand me, daughter. This is not an offer. This is an order. Your refusal would be equivalent to abandoning your position, and will be treated with the same severity. The wedding will be held here a week after the Day of Black Sun, and then you will leave immediately for Ba Sing Se. That is all."

That was in less than a month. This was all happening so fast, everything was happening so soon. Could she get out of this? Was it at all possible? Did she have enough time to think of a plan, of a way out? Did she… did she even dare go against her father's orders? To refuse would be to give up her position, to turn her back on her country. To leave everything she'd ever known.

But to accept would mean leaving her country and her people in much the same manner. The only difference was whether she'd retain her honour.

And, of course, the element of choice.

Azula drew in a shaky breath and, still unable to meet his gaze, gave in, "I understand, Father."

The dinner did not last much longer. Filled with an awkward air and unshed tears, the conversation fell stagnant and the dessert tasted like ash in her mouth. She swallowed her tea without tasting it, wanting, only, to finish as quickly as possible so that she could leave. So that she could grieve her own cruel fate in privacy. So that she could let her tears fall with no fear of repercussion.

Finally, Ozai dismissed her, and Azula left the room feeling light-headed and as if in a trance. She could still hardly believe what had happened; the reality of what her father had told her refused to sink in. She couldn't imagine living in the Earth Kingdom. Ruling the Earth Kingdom. Having a– a husband. She'd met Kuei, of course. That whimpering fool, that spineless coward. She should have executed him alongside Long Feng and saved herself this trouble.

Su was not waiting for her in front of the dining room. Annoyance plucked at Azula's heartstrings until she realised that the two hours were not yet up – of course Su wouldn't be here yet. Though that dinner felt as though it'd lasted an eternity, the truth was that she'd excused herself as quickly as she could. Certainly Father had no wish, no need to keep her there longer than necessary, either.

I have no need of you here any longer.

Those words reverbated in her mind and stung just as much now as they did when he'd said them. Her eyes stung, too, with the promise of tears, but she wouldn't allow them to fall until she was in her own private quarters. So she strode ahead with the force of a thunderstorm, as fast as her restricting skirt allowed her to, bee-lining to her room in the silence broken only by the sound of her rapid footsteps, until–

"Azula!" Zuko snarled.

Ugh. An internal groan. She didn't slow down in the slightest as her brother stormed after her. Azula didn't look back at him at all. Really – she was in no mood to deal with whatever bone Zuko had to pick with her today – problems that were equally ridiculous as they were endless. She had enough of her own to deal with.

But Zuko clearly didn't take well to being ignored. He all but ran after her even as she still refused to as much as glance his way, and Azula was beginning to fear she'd never be able to shake him off her trail.

"What are you plotting?" He demanded.

His voice was louder than decorum permitted in the halls of the Fire Nation palace, and Azula flinched at the sound of it and decided to indulge him if only to get him to stop causing such a scene. The last thing she wanted was to alert half the palace staff of her family problems.

"Just what are you going on about?"

"Don't play dumb," Zuko snapped, "I know you and Father had dinner without me. You're plotting against me. I know it. What did you say to him? I'm not going to stand here and let you two fuck me over–"

Azula felt her throat constrict. It took all her power to make sure her voice didn't shake as she spoke slowly, enunciating every syllable with clinical care and poison, "Oh, grow up. The world doesn't revolve around you, dear brother."

She continued on to her room without another glance at him. Zuko didn't respond immediately, and for a moment Azula thought that that was the end of it. That he, for once satisfied with her answer, would return to whatever it was he'd been doing and leave her alone. But the silence she'd taken as acceptance turned out only to be stupefaction as he rushed after her.

"Are you–" his voice, for once, was a hushed, incredulous whisper, a stark contrast to his earlier tone, "Are you crying?"

"No," snapped Azula. It was true that her eyes were moist, that the lights in the hall blurred in her vision – but she'd die before she let a single tear fall where someone could see it.

Zuko moved in closer, in front of her, stopping her in her tracks, and placed both his hands on her shoulders. His eyes were wide and serious, that ugly scar pulling taut the skin of his face. For once in their lives, he looked upon her with brotherly concern.

"What happened?"

Azula drew in a deep, shaky breath. She felt it reverberate in her entire body, vibrating in her chest. She found she couldn't meet her brother's gaze. She didn't want to tell him. She didn't want anyone to know about the order her father had given, but she knew it would not be a secret for long. Soon enough, the entire palace, the entire nation, the entire world would know about it, would be witness to her marriage. Better for Zuko to hear it from her than through rumours, she supposed. It didn't even matter that they were in a hallway, empty as it was, where anyone might overhear them. She was too tired to care. So she tried to distance herself from what she was about to say, as though she were speaking not about herself, but someone else entirely. As though the whole commotion didn't concern her at all. As though she was just Azula, like she'd pretended back on Ember Island, and not the princess in question, who was to be sold off like cattle.

"I'm to marry King Kuei and become Earth Queen," Azula stated.

Zuko's lips tightened. His brows furrowed. "What? That's ridiculous. You've accomplished more than any single general here. Why is he sending you away?"

He said exactly what she felt. A part of her wanted to agree, but she pushed that deep down inside herself. She'd already argued with Father enough – she didn't have enough strength within her to argue with Zuko as well.

"It's not a punishment," she tried to sound dismissive, but her voice was still raw, "but a great honour. I'm to be queen. Father is rewarding me for my accomplishments."

"Bullshit."

Azula was too tired to reprimand his language. "Besides," she said, "Father only has need for one heir. With you back – I'm no longer needed here."

The words stung even when was the one who said them.

For a moment, Zuko was rendered dumb. He opened his mouth and closed it, like a gaping fish, before the words finally came to him, "That's insane. And it's not true. You're needed here. I need you here."

"Oh, don't pretend to be so upset. This is what you wanted. What you deserve. You are the rightful Crown Prince, and now you're Father's favourite, too." She tried not to let the resentment seep out of her voice, but even she could tell she was doing a lousy job at it.

"But you–"

"I knew what I was giving up when I brought you home a hero," Azula didn't let him finish. "He's always wanted a worthy son. And I've never wanted to be Fire Lord. I just– didn't think he'd send me away. And not so soon. Or so far."

In that silence, Azula almost thought Zuko would apologise. His expression was cloudy; clearly, he was thinking very hard about something, but she couldn't be bothered to prod and find out what.

"When's the– when are you leaving?" He finally asked, his voice soft in comparison to before.

"In about a month," she said. "A week after the Day of Black Sun."

His lips tightened, his brow furrowed even more, if that was at all possible. It looked as though he wanted to say something more, as though he wanted to share what thoughts plagued him so deeply, but he didn't. And Azula, exhausted and still on the verge of tears, wanted nothing more than to be back in her room.

"If that's everything," she said as she turned around, "then I will take my leave."

At that moment, she thought, maybe, her brother would stop her. Rush out after her, pull her into an embrace. But he didn't, and allowed her, instead, to walk away without another word. What had she expected of him, really? Comfort? They'd never been the touchy-feely sort. The least he could do was allow her to leave with her dignity intact.

When she reached her bedroom, she couldn't help it – she slammed the door behind her. It was enough to alert her handmaid, who immediately came out from her own quarters, alert and wide-eyed.

"Princess, what's wrong?" Su rushed over with obvious concern.

Before she could even get close enough to touch her, Azula tore her earrings out and threw them at the floor. Her ears ached with the force of the action, but she didn't care. It was nothing in comparison to the hurt within her. She pulled at the seams of her clothes in a futile attempt to tear them off as well, but they were too complicated for any wearer to remove on her own.

"Get me out of this dress," she demanded even as her voice shook.

Su was immediately at her side, pulling the bows apart and undoing buttons in record speed. Even her handmaid wasn't simple enough to believe that the clothes were the reason for her upset, Azula knew. It was true that she despised them; the forced feminisation that rendered her an incapacitated warrior. Today, they felt more suffocating than they ever had before. All of her accomplishments– all of her hard work– all of her training! All for naught! In the end, what value her father most found within her was marriage. Children. She would end up like her mother; a fate she'd spent half her life trying to avoid.

Finally, she slithered out of the dress, slipped out of all the layers beneath, until she was left only in her undergarments. The clothes fell to the floor and Azula kicked them away. Su immediately draped her in her night robe, and Azula pulled it closed.

She sat down before the vanity and Suyin began to remove her hairpins without any need of an order. Her competence was a great asset; she really was well attuned to Azula's needs, and in this moment of upset, it was a source of great comfort. To not have to tell her what to do. To be known so well.

The intricate hairstyle that was required of her for formal occasions was terribly uncomfortable, but Azula always braved it for the sake of her duty. It always pulled at her scalp and weighed heavily with pins and ornaments of all sorts decorating her hair. Relief overcame her as her hair gradually fell down her back with each next piece that her handmaid removed, until finally it was all down. Then Su picked up the hairbrush and, with even more gentleness than usual, began to brush her hair. Azula felt her scalp prickle, that pleasant feeling from which she drew such comfort. She tried to relax into it. To focus only on that, for a moment. To allow her breathing to calm.

Sitting in front of the mirror in this way, she liked that she did not have to face Su head-on. That she could watch her through the mirror as she worked, without being perceived in turn. It made it easier to speak up. To be vulnerable.

So when she regained some composure, Suyin asked, so softly, even as she continued to brush her hair, "What happened, princess?"

And Azula told her. She told her what she'd told Zuko. She told her what her father had said. How embarrassed she'd been when he asked her about her bleeding. How he'd arranged it all while she was away. Had he sent her on that vacation for this very purpose? To make sure she had no say in it until everything was already settled? With whom did he meet? Decide this? Had this been his own decision, or did one of his generals whisper something in his ear?

It seemed that Zuko had been right after all – sending them away for the week had not been without purpose.

All this time, she'd been watching Suyin in the mirror. She looked nearly as shaken as Azula, brows furrowed and the corners of her lips pulled downward in an uncharacteristic frown. But what upset she felt she did not voice, and Azula wondered whether that was for her sake, so as not to distress her further.

"I'm so sorry," Su said. "That's… that's cruel of the Fire Lord."

Azula rebuffed, "It's an honour–"

"Of course. I'm sorry. I only meant– I can't imagine he's doing this for your sake. Not when it brings you such unhappiness."

Azula quieted. Of course Suyin was right. She told herself over and over that this was a reward, an honour, but she knew better than that. Father was only placing her where she would be of most use to him. It didn't matter how she felt. It never had. It never would.

She could try to keep telling herself that, over and over again, until maybe, she'd one day believe it herself. She tried to pretend, at least, to believe it. But both Zuko and Suyin had immediately seen through her words and into the raw, aching despair it brought her. Maybe… maybe it was time to stop the farce.

"I don't know what to do," Azula admitted quietly – a phrase she was not accustomed to using. The words, so foreign on her tongue, were almost mortifying to say out loud. But they brought with them some levity, just a little bit of welcome reprieve.

"I don't know, either," Su said softly. "But I know if anyone can get out of such a situation, it's you. You're so clever. You'll think of something."

Azula chewed her lip. It was true that she was already exploring options, imaging one plan after the other to avoid having to leave to the Earth Kingdom – or, at least, to avoid marrying that man. But nothing was right. Nothing was promising.

"I know I could leave," Azula said, "but that would mean leaving behind my birthright, and my family, and everything I've ever known. And I'm not sure I'm willing to do that."

She wouldn't be the princess anymore. She'd practically be a traitor. Her father could have her hunted down and imprisoned. Or declared insane and locked up in an asylum somewhere. It wasn't uncommon for troublesome women to be locked away, out of sight and mind of their families, under the pretext of being mentally unstable. It happened often enough in high court.

And even if she could roam the world, free, where would she go? What would she do? Without her title, she was no one. She didn't know the first thing about being a commoner, about how to survive on her own, how to look after herself.

She didn't have a choice, not really.

"I'll go," Azula decided. "I won't be happy about it. But I'll do my duty. It's what Father's asked of me."

Maybe she could kill her husband, or something.

Su paused in her brushing. Her hair was already long since untangled, but she'd brushed it for so long as a comforting gesture, Azula knew. Their eyes met in the mirror for a lingering moment before Su pulled her gaze away. The crease between her eyebrows remained. It looked as though she had something to say, but she remained silent, troubled, and returned to her brushing instead.

"Suyin…"

"Yes, princess?"

"You'll come with me," Azula said, and despite herself, her voice shook, "...won't you?"

She'd meant for it to be an order, but doubt must have somehow found a way into her heart and it came out sounding more like a request. A plea. Suyin had a family here, with a sick brother to boot. Friends in the palace, too. She probably didn't want to leave the country.

But neither did Azula. Suyin, at least, had a choice, and Azula wouldn't take it away from her for her own selfish reasons.

She knew she could get a new handmaid – she always did. It had never been a problem to replace one for any reason. As queen, she'd definitely be appointed one in Ba Sing Se if she so needed – some Earth Kingdom girl who would attend to her, who would dress her in Earth Kingdom garb, and walk her through the foreign palace. Who wouldn't know how she liked her hair or her nails done. Who wouldn't brush her hair just for the comfort of it. Who would again be afraid to look her in the eye, to talk to her like a normal person. Mai, engaged again to Zuko, would certainly stay here. Ty Lee was already planning her imminent return to the circus. And so Azula would be lonelier there than she had ever been before.

She didn't want some Earth Kingdom girl. She didn't want a new handmaid, some stranger she didn't care about and who didn't care about her in return. She wanted Suyin. With everything crumbling around her, with everything she'd ever known being taken away from her – couldn't she have this one thing? This one person? She told herself she'd be able to bear it if she at least had Su by her side–

And then she felt her cool hand atop of hers. So caught up in her thoughts, Azula hadn't even noticed when Su had stopped brushing her hair, when she had moved. When she had kneeled down by her side, just to the right of the chair. She grasped her hand and gazed up at her with such doleful eyes that Azula found she couldn't look away.

"Of course," Suyin whispered. "I'd follow you anywhere."

At that, Azula felt her eyes fill with tears. She shut her eyes in a foolish attempt to retain her dignity, but she couldn't stop herself from crying. She drew in a fluttering breath and her shoulders shook with the effort of suppressing her cries.

She was so, so glad Suyin would stay with her.

"Oh, princess. Come here," she cooed.

She rose to her feet and gently pulled Azula up and off of the chair. She allowed her handmaid to lead her to bed, and to sit her down on the edge of it. Suyin sat down beside her and drew her in against her. Cradled her head against her breast. Pressed her lips, chastely, to the top of her head.

"You can cry," Suyin whispered, "if you want to."

And so she did. She fell apart, right there, in Su's arms. She sobbed like a child while Suyin held her. When was the last time she'd cried so openly, in front of another person? Azula was well-acquainted with tears, but she'd always kept them to herself. The last time she'd cried like this… it must have been before Mother had left. Now, the years of hurt she'd nursed so close to her heart came out on the surface, and she clung to Suyin as she cried herself raw. And when she quieted, she buried her face against her chest and willed her breathing to calm.

Su traced idle patterns on her back, through her night robe, as she held her. Her gentle touch was another comfort and she tried to focus on it. They sat like that, in silence, for an eternity, until Azula's neck began to ache from the position. Only then did she pull away, a little, so that they were still touching, but not so entangled in one another. She sniffled. Wiped her eyes with her sleeve. She was beginning to feel embarrassed at having come so completely undone before her.

"You'll be alright," Suyin said, "I promise."

She raised a hand to cup her cheek. With her thumb, she wiped away a stray tear, but lingered for a moment on her skin even after that, before she finally pulled away. The small smile she wore did not betray any mockery – only sincerity. Only concern. She was not laughing at her. Marginally, what embarrassment Azula felt subsided.

"But I– having a husband– I don't know the first thing about that. I mean–" Azula hugged her arms around herself and looked away, and admitted in a small voice, "I've never even been kissed before."

A lie. That boy, Chan, had kissed her back at that party on Ember Island. Though she'd never admit it out loud, she'd dreamed so long of her first kiss. Of being loved by someone so dearly, so tenderly that they drew her into their arms and pressed their lips against hers. Of being desired. Of being admired not for what she could do, but for who she was. She'd barely known the man, but he'd kissed her, out on that starry night, and for that short moment she could imagine that she was loved.

And then she'd shown him her fire and his expression had morphed into fear and disgust and he left her there, out on the balcony, alone and ashamed and broken hearted. She'd been too embarrassed to tell her friends. Her brother. They'd laugh at her, she knew, for having assumed for one moment that someone might like her, might love her. To admit she'd been rejected would be to tread her own pride underfoot. So she kept it to herself. In that sense, wasn't it fair to say she'd never been kissed? No one knew. And Chan didn't count. She didn't want him to count. Not when the experience brought her more misery than joy.

But to kiss that man who would be her husband-! That coward Kuei-! The very thought brought bile to her throat. And to have to lie with him, to give him children? She barely knew what she had to do, but she knew she did not want to. But she'd always completed her responsibilities. She was nothing if not dutiful. It was just that with this… all her hopes of ever being truly loved were crushed.

She wasn't a fool; she'd never truly expected that she'd love her husband. She'd known all her life that her marriage would be arranged. Her parents' had been. So were Zuko's and Mai's, already so many years ago, back when they were not yet ten. Even so, a part of her had hoped, all her life, that there would be room for love to grow in her marriage. Mai and Zuko liked each other well enough – couldn't she have that, too? But she imagined that Kuei hated her even more than she hated him. After all, she'd brought the Fire Nation army to his city. She'd held a flame to his head and threatened his life. She couldn't blame him for it. There would be nothing but animosity in this marriage.

And still she yearned to experience love, even if in another form. This was much too early. She'd hoped she'd have the chance to know a true relationship before her inevitable marriage, a fling with someone she met. But there was no room, no time for that, either. The youngest man in the palace had been Lian – almost twice her age and, as it turned out, excrement in human form.

"Princess."

Suyin's gentle voice broke her out of her thoughts. They were so close, still seated on the edge of her bed. She placed a gentle hand on her arm and Azula looked up at her. In the low-lit room, Suyin's eyes sparkled gold with the reflection of the oil lamps. She looked at her so tenderly that Azula's heart ached.

"It's not so scary," Suyin assured her. "You'll know what to do."

"I don't. I won't," Azula whispered.

"You will."

"I won't," she insisted, and the words that followed surprised even her. The desperation in her whispered plea. "Show me, Su."

Her eyes widened for only a moment. If her face flushed - Azula couldn't see it in the dimness of the room. Her hand didn't shake as she again cupped Azula's cheek, her fingers resting against her jaw. Was her heart beating as fast as hers? Azula could feel it in her chest, hear it in her ears, that ever quickening ba-dump, ba-dump, ba-dump.

"Close your eyes," Suyin whispered.

Azula could feel her sweet breath as it tickled against her cheek. Obedient, she did as she'd asked and closed her eyes. She felt the gentle aura of Su's body heat as she slowly leaned in closer. Her fingers were still on her cheek, on her jaw. She heard her swallow. Felt her hesitate. What was she thinking?

And then she felt the gentle touch of a kiss. Flowers bloomed in Azula's chest and in the base of her stomach, a pleasant feeling she'd never known before. She felt light-headed in an entirely different way than she had earlier today. Full of cotton, rather than lead. Floating, rather than weighed down.

Suyin's lips were so soft against hers. So sweet. Nothing at all like Chan's. His kiss had been sort of rough, and quite short. It had felt, only, like the touch of two body parts. Neither pleasant nor unpleasant, but a simple fact of action. But Suyin lingered now, as if savouring her. As if this were the only kiss they would ever share and so she had to drink in as much of her as she could. There was a sort of gentle desperation to her.

A sort of– love.

Maybe?

When she pulled away, Azula was left with an empty sort of disappointment. She wished, immediately, that Su would lean in and kiss her again, and again, and again. Her eyes fluttered open. She could see now that Su's cheeks were flushed red after all, and she wondered whether it was with embarrassment, or with– with affection. After all, the kiss was on her order. It probably didn't mean anything beyond that… did it?

"See?" Suyin said with a small smile, "Not so scary."

"No," Azula agreed, "Not with you."

It would be different with her husband. She couldn't imagine kissing him. She couldn't imagine enjoying it, not like she'd enjoyed it with Su. Right now, she couldn't imagine kissing anyone but Su. She couldn't imagine lying with her husband, giving him children. In truth, she barely even knew what that even entailed.

But right now, she found solace in her handmaid. In her friend. In her – maybe – something more? This was all so confusing. All so new. But Suyin would come with her. Be there with her. She'd promised. Though Azula would move half the world away, and though she'd have to brave her marriage and husband, and though she'd have to leave everything else she'd ever known behind– Suyin would be there with her.

And in that moment, that was enough for her.