Disclaimer: I don't own anything in the Avatar franchise, and nor do I make any profit writing fanfiction about it.
(AN): Here's to hoping.
Sister,
Regardless of how often you insist you have better things to do, I'm going to insist back just as hard that coming along on this tour would have been a great thing for you to experience. Even Uncle's endless nattering on about tea and Pai Sho is more enjoyable than the viper pit. The only ulterior motive he has to asking me to play so often is the chance to spout obscure sentimental proverbs while making me feel like a wet-behind-the-ears boy.
Although Uncle doesn't gloat constantly over his victories like you do. Sometimes I wish he would, simply for the satisfaction of knowing that someone in the world is able to wipe that smirk off your face. And don't even attempt to deny it. You know its look just as well as I do. That little "haha-Zuzu-I-have-bested-you-for-all-time-feel-the-shame-and-humiliation" curl you get to your lips. Or I'm sure that's how you think it looks. To me, it's simply the same face you made when you were three years old and succeeded in raiding the cookie jar.
I digress.
Even you must be able to agree with me that the Caldera City has grown somewhat stale after fourteen years living in it? Seeing the same buildings, watching the same horizons, smelling the same scents... You haven't even left the capital since the last time our entire family visited Ember Island all those years ago. You've surely forgotten how the quiet shifting of a ship beneath your feet feels by now. Landlubber.
In any case, I'm writing to inform you that I will return to argue my case in person. There have been... disturbing rumours I suppose, even so out of the way as Meizhou. I hesitate to put anything particularly sensitive to paper due to the possibility of interception, and I'm sure that if I've heard of it – so have you. Even Uncle has been worried, though he tries to hide that the news is concerning to him. He does what he feels is best, though I admit that I find all the obfuscations tiresome. Surely, if there is truth on the wind, wouldn't the country be better off to have it confirmed and done with?
I can feel the lecture you're going to deliver already. I don't suppose that we can simply agree that you're right and move on without the instructive speeches? And now you have that frowny face, I expect. There is surely a second lecture on the need for respect and proper gratitude on the way as well isn't there? Perhaps a few beat downs in the bending arena to try and instill the lesson more deeply? Why you feel that resorting to fists is a good idea when you've told me how many times that I'm too stubborn and hard headed is beyond me. I cry abuse. Abuse and malicious intent!
Well, as Uncle might say – "If you find yourself in a hole, the best thing to do is stop digging!" or perhaps "Leaf me alone, I'm bushed!". Some nugget of wisdom he's tried to give me over the millions of cups of tea I've been forced to drink is surely appropriate now. In either case, I shall be seeing you soon.
Behave,
Zuko
Parchment crinkled beneath well-manicured fingers as Azula crumpled her brother's letter in a ball. Lighting the paper with an electric blue spark, the Fire Nation princess tossed it into the hearth before schooling her face away from the fond expression and into one suitably haughty for her reputation as she turned to stare out the window.
It wouldn't do for the servants to notice how unbearably soft and mushy she became after letters from her brother. It was one thing for palace tongues to wag on about Azula's power and ruthlessness, or for rumours to abound in the corridors of power that named her as a brother-fucker. They were true enough, or would be. Soon.
On the whole however, it was better not to be known for sentimentality and weakness. Not that Azula was unable to put challengers in their place, or even minded making them regret ever being born. But it made Zuko positively unbearably preachy for a few days when she did. The only recourse her brother considered a proper response to insult was an Agni Kai. Which was simply absurd.
As if Azula would ever lower herself to take part in a proper and sacred duel with whatever jumped up peasant it was that didn't attend her with the suitable respect. She was a Princess of the Fire Nation – a dragon descended in the right line from Agni himself. Azula wouldn't deign to treat some feeble minded fool as an equal on the field of honour.
Still, what Zuzu didn't know couldn't hurt him. At least when it regarded her, in any case.
Tracing a fingernail over the ruby red stain of her lips, Azula sighed. Though it seemed that Zuko had yet to cotton onto the fact that she was a woman, and not a girl any longer. She may still be a young woman, but she was old enough. Her breasts could comfortably fit her hands, and her hips were wide enough for an admittedly difficult birth. Most importantly, she'd bled some moons past.
Old enough to be wedded and bedded. Thankfully, Ozai had acquiesced to her request to go to war. Joining the armed services on its own was a significant deterrent for the proud nobility, and oh-so-scandalous rumours of incest even more so. The whispers that the last man to stare at her luridly had been found with his eyes burnt out of his skull was only the cherry on top.
Even if the Fire Lord technically could force her into a marriage – the Fire Nation was an absolute monarchy after all – Ozai would have a difficult time finding earnest, politically beneficial suitors considering how tainted Azula's reputation had become. A colonel and an insane brother-fucker by the tender age of fourteen.
Colonel Azula.
The title sent delicious, anticipatory shivers up her spine.
General Azula.
That would be even better.
Fire Lady Azula.
Best of all.
Dark water shattered before the prow of the Tenri, the illusion of black glass reflecting the stars above broken by the passage of Zuko's frigate. Staring ahead through the night, the Crown Prince took in the looming sight of Caldera City with a crooked frown marring his face.
Reds and golds shone from one end of the harbour to the other, painted bright and orange by the ever burning fires that resided in the Fire Nation's capital city. The faint hum of human activity that marked civilization was almost gone with the sun, the populace quiet, but never truly completely silent. Even in the depths of night, there were always people in the streets. It was a city that never slept.
Curling his fingers over the steel railing, Zuko sucked in a bracing breath. Soon enough the honest simplicity of life at sea and amongst the peasantry would be exchanged for the poisonous games of power and decadence he'd be born into.
"Why the long face, nephew? We're almost home. I can simply feel the hot springs calling from here." Iroh sighed wistfully, an absent smile curling over his jovial features. "Days of relaxation with pretty women – what more could a man ask for?"
Zuko rolled his eyes, not even bothering to fix his uncle with an annoyed glance. "You know, once upon a time I'd have been embarrassed to be related to such an unapologetic pervert. Now I think I've just gone fully numb."
Ignoring the falsely wounded expression that crossed Iroh's face as the retired general swooned away with a hand on his heart; Zuko watched the approaching dock with a mixture of anticipation and trepidation.
Ever since an incident where he'd nearly been assassinated at fourteen, Zuko had always lived with a faint air of suspicion every moment he was in the capital. It was his birthright as Crown Prince, and he knew that no matter how scarred he'd been to spend a night coughing poison while his Uncle and sister hovered over him anxiously, that he couldn't shy away from it.
Despite the fear though, there was a sense of homecoming and safety. After all, Zuko was nowhere near blind, and he could see the flame cradled in hand by a solitary figure waiting dockside. It was as if Azula had captured a blue star, brightly burning in the dark and calling him home like some wayward spirit.
His sister made him feel so weak. Azula was and always had been better. Smarter, faster, stronger. But with her at his back, Zuko also felt strangely invincible. Unkillable. As if he could take on the entire world with her and win.
The engines of the Tenri cut into reverse, slowing the cruiser as it drifted through the deep harbor to pull next to the dock. Steel creaked when the gangplank was lowered, and Zuko was striding down before it even settled on the stone of the wharf.
"It's about time you showed up, Zuzu." Blue light faded as Azula wordlessly extinguished the fireball in her hand. Golden eyes glimmered faintly in the dark as the princess shifted her attention up behind her brother. "And Uncle too. Has my birthday come early this year?"
"I told you to stop calling me that." Zuko sighed with longsuffering. "Spirits Azula, you're not five anymore."
A fine brow arched, and Azula swept down in an exaggerated bow. "At your command Crown Prince Zuko. Ever-so-glorious highness. Your magnificence."
"Please Azula." Iroh cut in as he bumped around the siblings to step on the pier with a serious expression. "You know how very humble Prince Zuko is. I'm sure my nephew wouldn't care to stand on formality with his dear sister."
"Uncle!"
Ignoring the reprimand with an amused curl of the lips, the retired general threw an arm around his niece and coaxed her into moving along in their journey up to the palace. "I'm glad to see you're well, niece. I've been missing my favourite Pai Sho partner. It's unfortunate that certain members of my own family sometimes say such horrible things about the game."
"No!" Azula gaped in faux shock. "How could someone do such a thing?"
Rubbing his fingers into his temples, Zuko shook his head and prayed wordlessly to the spirits. "How is this my life?" Wordlessly gesturing at the crewmen still on deck, the prince dismissed them for shore leave before hurrying along after the only family members left in the world he still cared about.
Zuko sidled up next to his sister, tuning out the habitual chatter Azula and his uncle engaged in before cutting in at the first pause in their conversation. "Is it true that there was a bit of a disturbance on at our kinsman's home?"
His voice was low and hushed, but if the cutting glance Azula gave him was any indication, there was still much for him to learn about keeping conspiracies quiet. Euphemizing around the events was better than outright mentioning them, at least.
Molton gold narrowed slightly as Azula considered him with a curved smirk, before the princess rolled her eyes and elbowed him in the side. "There's no need to be so secretive about it, Zuzu." Unlike his furtive whispers, Azula's tones rung clear and strong as they walked through the silent streets. "Everyone who's anyone knows that the Avatar has returned, and the Fire Lord will be making a public statement about it tomorrow."
Nails dug into his arm as Azula switched from Iroh's arm to Zuko's. The pain flaring in his limb was a warning to shut up, and Zuko ruthlessly squashed the urge to wince in pain. His sister's discipline was rarely the kindest, and over the years Zuko had long since learned to simply go with the flow as far as Azula's recommendations were concerned.
Undoubtedly he'd done something unbefitting of a future Fire Lord, yet again.
"What were you thinking you ignominious buffoon? Beating around dirty laundry like that in public is essentially equivalent to airing it! I know you really have to earn your label, Dum-dum, but couldn't you restrain it as least long enough to make it to the palace?"
A lazy hand waved at her from where Zuko was curled up in the sheets, and with a roll of the eyes Azula decided it best to move to other matters. Her brother almost always admitted she was right – and save caustic words and the rare smack in private, Azula could do little but hope the lessons would sink in sans the beatings she wished to give.
It wouldn't be good for Zuzu's political position if it became known that his younger sister had him henpecked. Zuko most assuredly knew Azula was wiser than he was, but a Fire Lord must be all knowing and all powerful. Fractures in that facade of majesty had lead to more than one Agni Kai over the throne in the past.
"What should be done with the Avatar?" Just like Zuko to gnaw continuously at a single topic until he was satisfied with it. Just like a stubborn – if reluctantly loveable – dog.
"Capture him and amputate his limbs. Without them, he can hardly bend, now can he? And if he spends his life in captivity, he won't be reborn any time soon. Succeed in that, and by the time there is a new Avatar the war will have long been won." It wasn't even a question, as far as Azula was concerned. Though by the way Zuko stared at her with a blanched face, maybe it was a question as far as he was concerned.
What a queerly moralistic brother. If not for looking exactly like a younger Ozai, Azula might have questioned if Sozin's blood ran in Zuko's veins at all. Despite best efforts, Zuzu still struggled with doing the necessary thing.
"Isn't that a bit, I don't know, gruesome? Seems a pretty rough way to live, if you ask me."
"As opposed to what? Spending his life chained to the walls? He's the Avatar Zuzu, even if he's still just a naive child. Left alone he could figure out how to wave his arms and obliterate the entire country." Sighing, Azula smoothed her hands over her mist thin negligee and threw herself into her brother's bed with a huff. "At least if he can't bend, he can be wheeled around in the sunlight or something."
With that appeal to his better nature, Zuko subsided to a sullen grumble. Life without being able to see the sun was worse than death to a firebender, and better that than immobility or death for a child. Not that Zuzu would be a fan of doing anything at all that could harm 'innocent' people. "Do you suppose that I should go out and search for him?"
Rolling over on her side, Azula blew a strand of unbound hair out of her face to give Zuko the filthiest glare she could muster. Her brother actually shrank back, eyes darting over her form before her turned away entirely with a hint of a blush. A reluctant smirk curled the princess' lips.
Well, that was the reaction she'd been hoping for when she chose to wear the thin, curve clinging nightdress. Alas, it was still too early to give Zuzu more than the slightest incestual overtures – he seemed to have picked up that odd peasant reluctant for the practice. And best not to mix business with pleasure anyway.
"What are you, a fool? You're a master bender now, brother, even if you still struggle with lightning. But I wouldn't pit that against the Avatar so easily, especially with your honor – and thus your birthright – on the line!"
"Okay, okay. Take it easy!"
Azula snorted at the sheepish scratching of his mussed strands that Zuko did. Reaching out to fluff her brother's chin length mop into an unnecessary mess, Azula ignored the scent his scent of sandlewood and smoke to get to the true purpose of her late night visit.
Flopping down on her back, Azula crossed her hands behind her head and blew a gusty sigh. "It seems that I find myself assigned to our latest offensive in the Earth Kingdom. What do you say to accompanying me on a little sojourn to Omashu?"
Seconds passed with Azula peering out of the corner of her eye at Zuko's pensive frown. "I have no desire to go to war, Azula." His tone was filled with a tone of melancholy and reluctance, and Azula knew with sudden burning anger that she'd let Uncle get his soft, fat paws into her brother too deeply.
Which was an annoying obstacle, but one she could easily overcome. Whatever hold the genial old Dragon of the West had was not deep enough to toss away a decade of sibling affection. Glory and blood might not tempt Zuzu any longer, but fear and a lie certainly would.
Brushing her fingers over Zuko's silk clad thigh, Azula brushed aside the sudden hitch to his breath to curl her hand over the prince's bare abdomen. The princess curled her nails into the taut muscles, digging on the edge of pain in a warning message even as she twisted closer to breathe lowly into his ear.
Relax.
"I need someone I can trust toguard my back, Zuko. I was assigned to the campaign. I didn't ask for it. Now why do you think someone would do something like that?" A nasty little white lie – she'd privately requested the mission as a boon from the Fire Lord. But Zuzu was hardly likely to confront Ozai about it.
No, Zuko was a learnt pessimist when it came to matters of their father. Every grudging praise was oily manipulation. Every reprimand was a malicious insult. All the Fire Lord's gifts were poison, and Zuzu would instantly think the worst of an unexpected martial assignment – especially with her implications.
Assassination.
Victory was a heady feeling when her brother turned to stare at her with resolute molten gold. Nose to nose, they were so close Azula could smell the mint on his breath and see the faint inhuman slit to his pupils.
"I'll speak to Uncle in the morning."
(AN): Here ya go kids. Still reading lots of Zutara, though I may dive back into Vicki So's Kindred to get another taste for Zucest.
Can Zuko generate lightning? – No, he can't. At least, not yet. The thing is, Zuko in canon was essentially a weak and useless firebender until the hunt for the Avatar. Before his banishment he didn't really give a lot into it, and was surrounded by people constantly putting him down for not being as good as Azula. And then after it he was essentially a gigantic asshole that blew his Uncle off every time Iroh tried to drill fundamental basics into him.
Without that character conflict, and with Azula taking time to teach him herself, he's better than he was in canon. If we're comparing directly, the Zuko we have here is about as strong as the Zuko in canon was prior to The Firebending Masters. He's more skilled than a lot of people are, but rage isn't the best fuel for firebending and that inhibits him. So redirection? Yes. Generation? No. Ability not to get spanked around in two seconds by Azula? Yes. Ability to beat her? No.
Azula and Iroh's relationship – Is showcased here through Zuko's POV, and a bit of Azula. I suppose they're what I would call reluctant allies. They both care about Zuko, and they share some hobbies (like Pai Sho – which is a strategy game and not just a secret club handshake). But they have vastly different philosophies about the world and people in it, which leads to some friction. Azula doesn't move against Iroh because he's useful and Zuko likes him, and Iroh doesn't move against her because Zuko likes her and he thinks that with Zuko's help she can be tempered.
Obsessive psychopathic incest – Well, eventually, I guess. If I had to pace my thoughts on where things go from here, I'd give it another few chapters before blood and shit hits the fan and Zuko starts circling the drain in terms of mental stability. War does that to a person.