-But Zuko… Can I call you Zuko?
-Of course.
-You must also be willing to be there for her. I know that is asking a lot of you, considering all that she has put you through. But she needs your love as well.
-Azula has never expressed anything but tolerance towards me.
-You may think that, but you are still her older brother. Your love means more to her than you know.
"You are her brother Zuko," Ursa says firmly, "You have to try to talk to her."
"Mother," Zuko starts, trying to be as patient as possible, "It's not like I exactly have the time for it. I have to do things, like fixing the world."
He begins to walk away when Ursa grabs his collar and pulls him back so he is next to her. "I understand that you have many duties," she says calmly, "But please visit your sister this weekend. Please."
"I do visit," the Fire Lord replies, "With you."
Ursa narrows her eyes, "You never go in to talk to her."
Zuko wracks his brain for any comeback but comes up blank. He sighs, rubbing his forehead.
"Visit her," Ursa says with finality, "She needs you more than you think." Zuko looks back up at her, hearing the echo of her words as she begins to walk away down the hall, leaving the Fire Lord in her wake.
It's late when he is finally able to take his headpiece off of his head and place it on his bureau in front of him. He undoes his topknot, letting his hair fall. He rubs the sides of his temple, trying to relieve himself of this headache. He should seriously consider discarding this ridiculous tradition of mandatory topknots in the royal family.
Thin, strong arms wrap around him, making him start. But the arms squeeze as the person whispers, "What's bothering you?"
It's Mai.
Zuko sighs, relaxing a little as he places his hand over hers. "It's nothing," he replies.
She shifts her position so that she is beside him. With one arm still around his waste, she brings the other to the side of his face, gently guiding it so he is looking at her. Zuko looks into her pale lavender eyes as she says, "Please don't block me out. Talk to me."
There's a lot of things that he would love to talk to her about that he can't. Many of it is confidential, kept hidden from everyone who is not directly involved.
And Zuko is just not that great at talking out his feelings.
But Mai's right. He shouldn't block her out. "I don't know if I should visit Azula or not," he replies, "I mean, by myself."
Mai's hand firms up slightly against his face, but she remains silent, waiting for him to finish.
He notices, but doesn't point it out. Instead, he continues, "Mother and An are both convinced that Azula needs me to show her love so she can recover. But—"
"But she antagonized you all your life and you're not sure you have any love for her?" Mai asks.
Zuko's jaw drops slightly, surprised at Mai's perceptiveness. "Yeah," he replies, "And—"
"And if you do have any love for her, you're not sure you really want to help her after everything she's done?"
Zuko raises a brow, "Been thinking about this too?"
Mai takes her hand off of his face and leans against his bureau. She crosses her arms, her face settling back into apathy. But she says, "I try not to care about her, but she's been my best friend for so long. Too long."
"Imagine being her brother," Zuko replies.
Mai looks at him, "You have an obligation."
Zuko looks away, runs his hands through his hair, pinches the bridge of his nose. "Should I go to her?" he asks with his eyes closed.
Mai stares at him for a second, reading him, knowing this is tearing him apart. She places her hand on his arm as she says, "I think you should go ask your uncle."
Zuko keeps his eyes closed. He has been trying to refrain from asking anything more of his uncle. The man has already done so much for Zuko. "How can I ask more of him?" Zuko asks, "Shouldn't I leave him be?"
"A father is always there for his child," Mai replies.
Zuko looks at her one more time before smirking, "Where did you get that piece of wisdom?"
She smirks, "Not telling." Then she gives him a light peck on the lips before walking out of the room.
"Are you sure about this?" Zuko asks his uncle.
The dynamic duo are standing outside Azula's room with Zuko closest to the door. He is facing Iroh, fear plane on the young Fire Lord's face.
"I am," Iroh says, smiling an encouraging smile, "You are doing the right thing. The rest is up to her."
Zuko makes a small smile before letting out a big breath. Then he grabs the knob and opens the door to the room. As he closes it behind him, he sees his sister sitting on her bed looking out the window into the afternoon son. When she hears the door close, she turns her head to see her brother. She raises a brow in wonder as she asks, "What are you doing here?"
"I figured I'd come visit," he replies.
Azula just scoffs. "Get out," she says as she turns back to the window.
Zuko sighs, willing his irritation to subside. "I really am trying to—"
Lightning shot just past the scarred half of Zuko's face into the wall. It flashed by within seconds, but Zuko sees it. He looks at Azula in shock.
"I mean it," she hisses menacingly.
Zuko runs out instantly. Not because he's scared (he's proven he can handle Azula). Because it is now proven that there is no point in visiting Azula. He tells Iroh what happened before storming out of the building.
Iroh stares at the door for a second before walking down the hall.
Azula has sat in the same position—holding her legs to her chest—for hours. In that time, she had devised a full-proof way of escaping this seemingly inescapable room. She has it all planned out; running, getting away from the Fire Nation, living somewhere far away.
All of it is planned.
So why doesn't she just leave? She could. She jump out the window right now and be free.
So what is keeping her from running? Why is she still in this dinky room, in these stupid clothes? Why?
She hears the door open. It must be her mother.
"Azula?" It's a male voice.
She turns her head in surprise to see Uncle Iroh peaking his head around the door. She doesn't answer him.
"I have brought some tea," he says calmly, walking into the room, "Could I share it with you?"
"Don't you have your ridiculous tea shop to run?" Azula demands bitterly.
"I am on holiday," he replies.
Azula cracks a bitter smile. "I see," she chuckles, "Zuko sent you to soften me up."
"Actually, Zuko has pretty much given up on trying to work things out with you," Iroh replies bluntly, humorlessly.
Azula sighs. Besides Zuko, she hasn't had a visitor all day. Not even An. She's lonely and… she wants some real tea. "Fine," she replies, looking back out the window.
Iroh closes the door behind him and sets up a little tea set on the ground with two pillows on either side of the tray. Iroh pours some water from Azula's water pitcher into the teapot and puts some teabags inside it before placing it in his palm to heat.
"Aren't you going to ask me which flavor I want?" Azula asks calmly, still looking out the window.
"I remember what you like," he answers, looking at the back of her head.
She turns to him, more than a little irritated. "Maybe my taste has changed," she snaps.
"I doubt that," Iroh replies, "Chamomile has always remained your favorite."
Azula, growing angrier by the second, hangs one leg off of the bed as she hisses, "How would you know what I like? You know nothing about me!"
"I know that you enjoy Chamomile because your brain is always going a mile a minute and it is the only thing that can calm it," Iroh responds calmly, "You told me that when you were very young. When our family was—"
"Happy," they finish at the same time.
Sadness creeps into Iroh's face as it falls a little. Azula sees it and her anger vanishes in her own nostalgia. "Chamomile," she says quietly, "is still my favorite."
Iroh responds with a small smile. "Would you join me?" he asks.
Azula looks at him for a second before looking at the tea with suspicion. "If I were going to poison you, Azula, Ursa would—forgive my language—fry my ass. And your brother wouldn't trust me anymore."
Azula looks up at uncle again. He's right, of course. The old man is always right.
The princess takes another moment. She looks out the window for a second, considering something for a second. Then she gets off her bed and sits on the pillow across from Iroh. "I think the tea is ready," she tells him.
Iroh looks at the teapot and realizes the metal is very hot. He just laughs, surprised by his own inattention. He pours the hot liquid into the tin cups on the tray, noting how the moonlight shows the amber color of the tea ever so slightly.
He hands the first cup to Azula, which she takes gratefully. She sips the tea and moans just slightly, "That tastes so good."
"You act like you haven't had it in a while," Iroh observes.
"I haven't," she replies, "Father said that trying to quiet my mind is wrong. Trying to drown out such a useful resource can only be disgraceful."
"Sleeping is not disgraceful."
"I can't remember the last time I slept through the night," Azula replies, as calm as the night. Iroh takes in her words and turns them over in his mind as they sit there in silence for a while, sipping their tea.
She is the one to break the silence. "Why did you come here, Uncle?" she asks, "I thought you hated me."
"I never hated you Azula," he replies, "A lot of people never hated you."
Azula snickers bitterly, "I doubt that."
"None of them hate you," he repeats, "To achieve absolute hate towards someone takes more than most people can give. There is always something standing in the way. Whether it be memories of a happier time or emotions left unexplained."
"Is it the memories of happiness that brought you here tonight?" she asks.
"It is part of it," he admits, "But I have other reasons."
"Do not hold them in," she says calmly but genuinely, "Please. Tell me."
To Azula's surprise, Iroh puts down his cup. What he says next is firm and real, "I am here because despite any hate I could harbor against you, the love is there. I remember you being nothing but a little fireball of energy trailing after Zuko and… my son," he wills himself to whisper. He takes a deep breath and continues, "I remember you and your brother playing together at Ember Island and falling asleep with your mother while she held you two close."
She doesn't remember the images he describes. But she can remember the feeling. She can just vaguely remember feeling… happy. And not the satisfaction she got at achieving something or winning against others (her brother). Real happiness. She can remember it. And that makes tears stream down her face.
Seeing his niece cry over those memories makes Iroh's eyes water a little. This is why those memories are never spoken of; they are so far in the past that they don't bring comfort, but nostalgia. Pain. Iroh, through the thickness in this throat, whispers, "I can remember it all, Azula."
The princess sniffles, rubbing away her tears with the back of her hand.
"But most of all, I can remember the love," he whispers, smiling a watery smile, "I can remember feeling as much love for you and Zuko as I did for Lu Ten."
Iroh can't see Azula's eyes. They are hidden behind the shadow of her hair.
"I cannot hate you, Azula, because of these memories," he explains, "And the love in those memories is the reason I'm here."
Azula looks up at her uncle, the slight shift of her causing the moon to illuminate her eyes. Her face is glistening with tears and it is contorted with more emotions that Iroh has seen in her for a very long time.
"I want the love in these memories back," he admits, his tears finally pouring over.
Azula sniffles a few more times before she lets out a silent, shaky sob. Even Iroh never realized how much those memories meant to her.
Iroh cracks a smile, "I can remember when you were born."
Azula looks at her uncle again.
"I can remember you, a little bundle you were. Your parents were so happy," he says, "And little Zuko was absolutely clueless. You should've seen it. The boy didn't know what the hell you were."
To her surprise, Azula actually finds his word funny.
"I remember holding you," he continues, "and being relieved that we don't have another boy. It's easier to buy girls gifts after all."
Azula laughs and rolls her eyes at the same time. "I still think you should've given me the pearl dagger," she retorts with a stuffy nose.
Iroh smiles at her and for a second, there is silence. The Azula blurts, "But why do you want anything from me? Why? I've done awful things. I've hurt everyone, I've… I've…"
"You are only fourteen, Azula," Iroh cuts her off.
She looks up at him, confused by his words.
"Your brother was one year younger than you when he was banished," Iroh says firmly, "He was only a child. Your father made his mission to make you a responsible child by ten and a soldier by thirteen. You—nor your brother—deserve what Ozai has put you through."
Azula remains silent.
"I was there for Zuko at your age," Iroh says calmly, "And I will try my hardest to be there for you too."
Azula does not answer. She just sits silently, staring at the tray. Iroh pours the last of the tea for them both and they sip it, feeling the effects of the calming substance…
…and the warmth of the moment shared between them just seconds before.