"…and they didn't attack you?" clarifies the waterbender.

"Nope. They just gave me this paper telling me where I could find a cure," says Aang with a foolish smile.

The waterbender rubs her hands. "Well, that's good I suppose—"

"Do you mind? I wish to see my brother," says Azula, striding forward.

The waterbender squares her shoulders and arrogantly steps in between her and the door to their makeshift infirmary. "What do you want to say to them?" she demands.

"Family matters," replies Azula with a cold smile. "Zuzu did almost die after all."

The waterbender looks to Aang and then back to her. "Five minutes."


"It's a trap, Uncle," scolds Zuko. Then he spots her. "Azula…" he says warily. "What do you want?"

There it is. That fear. Zuzu could never wear a mask for very long.

"It's alright, Zuzu," she replies in a too sweet voice accompanied with a perfect smile that never failed to make him tense. "I can handle myself."

It's not an answer to his question, but the guilt ripples through him and holds his tongue. Poor Zuzu. A puppet who could never see his strings.

What a wretched existence you must live, thinks Azula before turning her smile towards Uncle.

Uncle Iroh doesn't return her smile. He never does. He'll be guarding Zuzu until she leaves. Perfect.

"Are you sure you don't want to join us, Uncle?" asks Azula.

Uncle frowns. "I trust the Avatar to be able to handle himself," he says.

Meaning you trust him to be able to handle me.

Azula represses the urge to smirk.

Then there is a shift. Something that causes Uncle to wince and add, "and I trust you to be able to defend yourself."

She blinks. Since when? And shakes her head. "You and Zuzu should be more worried about your own capabilities. The Red Lotus, or whatever they call themselves, may pick you two off. An old man and an invalid are easy targets."

Zuzu scowls at her and Azula takes it as her cue to leave.

Fools.


The others were outside, packing supplies for the journey ahead. Azula grabs her bag, and only her bag, and leaps onto the beast's back with a flourish of wind.

The nonbender below mutters, "Shouldn't have taught her how to airbend."

Azula smirks.

"She had already picked up the basics on her own," replies Aang with a shrug, "She's a natural."

Her smirk freezes in place.

It's not the words themselves but the way he said them; as though he was genuinely happy that she, daughter of Ozai, blood of Sozin, could use the bending of the very people her family had wiped out. As if he'd forgotten the scar she'd personally given him.

Azula clenches her hands into fists, anger surging through her veins.

One element. One element left.

She glares down at his stupid bald head.

How dare you underestimate me.

To her surprise, he looks up and catches her glaring.

Then, to her greater surprise, he waves and joins her on the saddle.

Azula seethes with silent fury as she waits for the Avatar to explain himself.

"How are you feeling?" he asks.

She blinks slowly. The fury dissipating into bewilderment. "Excuse me?"

He gives a light shrug. "Things have been confusing lately."

An understatement. "Don't underestimate me, Avatar," she says sharply.

Now it's his turn to blink in confusion. "When did I do that?" he asks, "and I like it when you call me Aang."

You must be joking, thinks Azula. "I'm fine," she sneers, "worry about the others. Your ragtag group is hardly inspiring confidence."

He sighs and hugs his knees close to his chest. "I know."

"I expected better." She says, and waits for Aang to say something else, but he remains uncharacteristically morose. "Don't tell me you've given up," she prods.

He sighs again. "I don't think I can give up, but it would be nice if things started making sense."

Heavy weighs the title. "Did the spirit world ever make sense?" she asks.

"Somewhat. I mean, usually they would have a reason for interfering with our world and I don't think they've ever interfered in this great a number before."

"Hm."

Bei Fong calls out from below, "Twinkletoes, get your butt over here and help us!"

"Got to go," he says with another wave and then he's gone.

Azula glares at the now empty space.


The beast is slower than she expected, or perhaps it was a side effect of her thoughts moving so quickly.

Everything has to be perfect.

Her father will kill her otherwise. Iroh and Zuko were in Ba Sing Se. She could send a message to father alerting him of their vulnerability and location, but that still left too much room for error. When she and the Avatar's posse had followed the trail of nonsense into Ba Sing Se, her Uncle was there waiting for them, seemingly hiding from the Phoenix King.

The same trick won't work twice, Uncle.

Azula would not be fooled again into thinking her Uncle was harmless. The Dragon of the West was likely in Ba Sing Se to contact his White Lotus allies, and was merely disguising the movement as a retreat. It's what she would have done.

But the sickness…

Azula frowns. While the Red Lotus could very well be some offset group of the White Lotus, there didn't seem to be any advantageous reason to poison the civilians.

Perhaps it was to test the red gas?

But against whom? And why leave a note instead of launching a surprise attack with the Dai Li, the red gas, and the strange water-earth?

Azula's frown deepens. Nothing was making sense! While the sickness, water-earth, and even, potentially, the strange behavior of the Dai Li could be explained by spirits interfering and creating chaos, it didn't reveal who their opponents were, and, more importantly, what they were after.

Azula looks to the front of the beast. Perhaps it's not a what they're after but a who. The note was given to the Avatar after all, and he was the only one who wasn't attacked. Without him, the spirits could do whatever they pleased and so too could any group looking to gain.

"Is something wrong, Princess?"

How does he always know when I'm watching him?

"This is a trap for you specifically," says Azula, ignoring the muttered "Well, duh!" from the nonbender and the eye rolls from the others to focus on the back of Aang's shoulders. "The rest of us were only attacked as a test," she adds, "they wanted to see how easy it would be to isolate you, and clearly it wasn't easy enough. This note is our opponent shifting strategies."

His shoulders remain pleasantly well-centered instead of tensing or hunching over.

"I still have to go," he says at last. "In case there's a cure."

A noble fool.

"It's not foolish to be kind," says her mother, and the wind almost feels like fingers brushing through her hair. Almost.

Funny. I didn't think I was stressed.

Azula pointedly stares at a passing cloud. She would have to get some rest. Then, she would begin learning waterbending immediately. She wasn't a master of any of the other elements yet, but maybe…

Azula shakes the thought away. No. She had to be perfect.


A/N: Feedback please. Hope this clarifies the plot a bit.