Disclaimer: No, I don't own ATLA.
Off the Brink
It didn't come as natural as his uncle had said it would. Zuko had to repeat a simple move for hours before Ozai would heave a sigh and nod to say it would suffice. Most of the time though, his father would do this with great reluctance but both of them knew that right now there was not enough time for Ozai's usual preening and certainly no time to satisfy the perfectionist in him.
Zuko spun in the air, fire spiraling around him and then dispersing as he landed on the sand. He wobbled just for a second, catching a displeased frown on Ozai's lips. Then, willing himself to look away, he stretched his right leg to lower his stance and knocked his fisted right hand just below the knee. He pulled himself up with a hop and leaped to the left releasing a series of fire in mid-air with one hand while he waved a fire in the other, achieving to imitate a dragon's shape. As he shifted his body in the air, preparing to land, Zuko heard a giggle, and immediately he knew he had done something wrong.
It was too late though. His foot connected with the unstable sand and slipped, the sediments hissing as if protesting at the sudden mass that fell on them. This was not the first time it happened, but instead of berating himself for his clumsiness like normal people do, Zuko just rolled over until he faced the sky. He would wonder, in his supposedly embarrassing moments, why the sky always looked beautiful.
The moment would be over though every time he would hear the sharp intake of air, and he would return to earth as quickly as he drifted off, and would suddenly stand up straight for the oncoming lecture and well-placed insults.
Ozai rose from the large driftwood he was sitting on, and Zuko looked down to avoid those eyes so similar to his yet so much sharper and constantly shining with disappointment and frustration.
"Zuko," he heard his father say. There was a certain tone to his voice that commanded the boy to look up. Resignation and something akin to excitement reflected in his eyes, and Zuko stared, committing to image to memory. Ozai continued, "I want that landing perfected by sunset." And with that, the man left, heading to the general direction of their villa.
He let out the breath he did not realize he was holding as his father disappeared among the flora of the north coast of Ember Island. Zuko stood still for a moment, recalling the look his father had just given him. It wasn't much but it was the closest to pride he had ever gotten from him, and Zuko reeled at the realization.
"He's happy," a voice said, snapping Zuko out of his giddy daze.
"I don't think he is just yet," said Zuko.
Azula tilted her head, confusion settling on her round face. "Then why was he smiling when he went away?"
"Dad was smiling?"
The little girl nodded, and somehow that was enough for Zuko. They looked at each other for a moment, sharing a content smile, before Azula tried climbing over the driftwood Ozai had just sat on. Zuko scampered to his sister to help he over, thinking-not for the first time-why his sister always took the more challenging and difficult way. When she was finally on the other side, Azula gazed at Zuko, like she always did after conquering an obstacle, and waited. Zuko smiled and patted her head for a job well done. Azula beamed back.
They held hands as they walked towards the water and stopped to let the waves crash against their feet. It was a ritual of some sorts for them-both of them together, braving the ocean with their hands linked, knowing the other will be there when they get carried by the retreating waves.
"You laughed," Zuko said after a while, wriggling his toes now buried in wet sand.
Azula giggled through a hand. "You switched your feet."
"Huh?"
"You switched your right foot with the left that's why you fell."
Frowning in concentration, Zuko slackened his grip on the smaller hand, and Azula wobbled a bit when the wave rammed its collective weight against her.
"What? Show me," Zuko said after steadying Azula.
They pulled out of the waves reach. Excitement evident on her face, Azula looked around with a conspiratory shine her eyes while her brother sat cross-legged on the sand, seriously surveying their surroundings. Azula always did it for dramatic effect because it was a secret between them that Azula can already firebend and was secretly learning from Zuko and indirectly from their father by watching their sessions. They didn't want him to find out yet since Azula didn't like how their father treated Zuko during their training, and she was afraid to subjected to the same methods.
Azula lowered herself to the initial stance of the Dragon Dance and weaved through the next sequence of steps neatly. It was fairly easy to her now. They had watched it countless of times in the play that their mother really liked. She'd memorized it, and now that their father went through the steps one by one to teach it to Zuko, she knew the tips and tricks behind it. However, by the sheen of sweat forming on her forehead and under her nose and how her face scrunched up during intricate steps, it was obvious that it was too much for her small, untrained body.
Ozai never really cared for firebending intended for just entertainment. He preferred, as Zuko discovered during their training sessions, angry and offensive forms. However, today was special. Today was Ursa's birthday and their father had discarded all distaste for the ridiculous form of firebending to surprise her. And Zuko would help. That was the plan.
It was sort of an impulsive thoughtfulness that occurred to Ozai and he had just begun to teach it to Zuko the afternoon before. That had been difficult enough-hiding it from his wife was another challenge. Zuko had breezed through it easier them the other styles Ozai had branded to his muscles for months, and it surprised them both.
Azula leaped through the last sequence and Zuko watched attentively. She jumped into the air, doing that dragon-shaped wave and landed with her right foot, spun with the dragon and released it towards the sky. The burst of fire was small but it was amazing to Zuko nonetheless. Azula panted as a shaky grin stretched across her lips.
"That was fun!" she said, jumping up and down, threateningly close to knocking Zuko over. She threw her arms around her brother who hugged her back with the same force and smile.
He tightened his grip on his sister as Zuko realized how it was easier for him learn the Dragon Dance. Azula was right. It was fun. And it was for their mother. He rose from his sitting form, determination suddenly humming faster through his system. He started two sequences before the finale and with Azula's correction in mind he finished just as great as his sister did.
They cheered then and started chasing each other when Azula got Zuko wet with a congratulatory splash of salty ocean water. More splashing followed that and broke out into a full out war. Soon enough, they laid on the ground with sand in their hair, heaving giggles.
"Zuzu," Azula called, her breath slowing. She turned her head towards her big brother. She hesitated before finally saying, "I wish you'll be my big brother until forever."
Solemn, Zuko nodded and sat up. "And you'll be my little sister until forever."
Azula knelt in front of him and held out her pinkie. Zuko smiled and moved to hook his slightly longer pinky with hers-
"-can't believe you just left them! Azula can't swim yet!"
The leaves rustled as if the intensity of the voice shook them but they both discovered that it was just their mother shuffling through the bushes. She looked a bit funny again like she always did when she comes out of a room with their father after a long time. And there would always be a red mark on her neck a little similar to the one their father had on his neck but his would look like smudged paint their mother had on her lips.
"Zuko knows better than to leave his sister unattended," their father said as he followed his wife. He swatted a branch unfortunate enough to be blocking his path.
"Oh, no you don't," Ursa said, turning to Ozai. "You can't just-you can't blame Zuko for your irresponsibili-Iroh wouldn't do anything like-"
"Why are you bringing him into the conversation again? Iroh this, Iroh that! For all we know, he might already be dead!"
Azula and Zuko gasped loudly enough to catch their parents' attention. Ursa's face unscrunched at the sight of her children, then her hand flew to the red mark on her neck like it always did when either her children were there. It was like a crime that needed covering up. The fury in Ozai's face waned in the slightest bit and was replaced with a tiny expression of guilt.
"Is uncle..." Zuko trailed off, not wanting to say the word because it might come true if he did.
Ursa ran towards them and wrapped them in a tight embrace. "Oh, no, no, my babies," she crooned. "Your Uncle Iroh is fine."
"Apparently too fine," Ozai hissed, earning a glare from his wife. He ignored her and instead cast hard look on his son before turning skyward.
The sky was splashed with warm hues of orange and yellow, the colors seeping in the clouds, creating swirls of fire. The sun was not visible but its location was obvious enough by the glare of yellow west of the island. Suddenly, everything was bathe in harsh color somehow contrasting with the cool air that blew from the ocean, creating a cruel environment.
Zuko distinctly remembered how he and Azula loved this time of the day. It was beautiful last time he saw it but now for some reason, he feels as though something was ending. It was as if when the sun disappeared in the horizon it won't come up again. He suddenly had the urge to plant himself in the sand and never move until that feeling of finality subsided. However, the longer he stood doing nothing, the harder his father's gaze went.
He still didn't move though and ripped his eyes away from his father's to watch the sky as the last ray of sunlight was swallowed by deep blue darkness.
Ozai wordlessly marched up in front of Ursa and their children, disappointment palpitating from his stiff form. Zuko finally willed himself to take his position beside his father albeit shaking a little.
Without so much as an introduction, they began the Dragon Dance, bending flames that took the image of dragons dancing together as if courting or playing with each other. Ozai led without a hitch while Zuko struggled to follow, already suddenly tired from all the physical activities during the day. Tired of how their parents always seemed to plunged into a fight.
Ursa's eyes flickered with quick recognition. She loved that particular dance and never failed to tell Ozai about it. She embraced Azula closer to her as realization finally crept its way to her features. She tried to smile at Ozai and Zuko's effort and for her daughter who was intently staring at her face, waiting for a significant reaction from her. However, as the dance continued, the curve of her lips slowly melted to a frown. Ozai was certainly not considering Zuko as they danced with what was supposed to be a gracefully synchronized form of firebending. Zuko was getting weaker by the second and finally at the sequence before the last he slipped, nearly knocking Ozai if he had not been paying attention.
The performance did not stop there though since Azula had jumped in place of Zuko, catching the remnants of his flames and flawlessly bending in time with her father. Ozai, while surprised, did not hesitate in his steps and together they pumped the air, releasing the dragon-shaped flames into the darkened sky. The air hissed for a few moments, letting the fire spread and disappear into the atmosphere.
Azula allowed herself a satisfied grin before bending down to help his brother up but the chance was taken away when their mother suddenly swooped in and their father lifted her up in the sky, spinning her like a sack of rice.
"You're a prodigy!" Ozai cried, a pleased tone reverberating in his excited voice. "My daughter is a prodigy!"
"Are you hurt, Zuko?" Ursa asked softly, brushing the sand off his reddening cheeks. "It's all right, baby." She lifted his face up with a finger. "You were incredible."
His mother's voice faded into nothingness as Zuko watched his father celebrate Azula's firebending skills. Azula stared as much as she could while being spun at the soft worried gazes her mother directed at Zuko.
They met eyes then, gold irises suddenly alive with emotions that never once touched the innocent, round orbs. Both of them escaped the clutches of their parents and stood facing each other.
The tide was higher and the waves brushed at their feet. They might have wobbled a little bit from the force but neither of them were willing to show the other any weakness. They simply stood there, exchanging silent promises before turning from each other and running to their respective parents.
Somehow, ever since then, both of them felt as if they were falling. Off the brink. Diving. Plummeting uncontrollably.
A/N: Originally for a contest in deviantART. I hope you got the meaning of the story. And maybe I'll edit it some more later-I actually wanted it to be shorter so, yeah... Reviews and criticisms are greatly appreciated. Heck, I accept flames too.