Asdasdjkas! Oh the things you can do in so few hours!

Here's the next chapter, enjoy, and I implore you not to peruse the reviews if you want to remain unspoiled for episodes 9 through 11. Someone reviewed with a spoiler list, and I can't delete it, because it's signed. Mind, I haven't READ the spoiler list, but I know that's what it is.

Thanks for that, FFN, really.

CHAPTER FIVE: EXECUTION



"What keeps you living?" Azula said, calmly. "Honestly. I would have thought that after a week or two, you'd curl up in the corner and wish for death, just like any other Earth kingdom coward would, but you haven't."

"Because I have hope," Suki said. She said it calmly; she said it like it was nothing to her. She just stood in her cell and stared Azula down, her hands at her sides and curled into fists.

Azula let out an equally calm "Oh, really? I can't imagine what for."

"Because someone I know will come save me," she said. "Even if I can't escape, I'll get out one way or another."

Azula only smiled, and Suki felt that chill down her spine. She waited for the Princess' answer, and then Azula said, so seriously, "Of course you will."

Suki waited for a heartbeat, and then Azula finished, as casual as anything, "The only way out is up, through the spirit world, of course."

She made a gesture, pointing up, like smoke rising, and Suki could say nothing. She could do nothing.

She could only hope.



Zuko didn't like how badly things had turned. His head pounded. He didn't know where Uncle Iroh was now, and he was standing by Azula's side, of all people.

"I have a proposition for you," Azula said, folding one leg over the other with a smile that couldn't even begin to mask all the nasty ideas circulating in her head.

Zuko was tempted to leave, but the Dai Li surrounded them, and Uncle Iroh was still caught. Zuko had confidence in his ability to get away, because Azula didn't seem to be in the mood for hide-and-seek, but he was no Earthbender –– leaving meant leaving Uncle in his crystal prison, in the catacombs, and he couldn't do that, even now, not when he'd sided with his sister.

Azula laced her fingers together over her knee, and she seemed to relish her own power. She sat on the throne of the Earth king, and even in that great hall, she looked ahead of her as if she were standing over the earth itself. Zuko's stomach twisted.

"I'm listening," he uttered, looking to her. The room felt suffocatingly close around him, and he felt the urge to run like never before, especially when Azula turned her head to look at him dead in the eyes.

She said, "I would prefer delivering the news of Ba Sing Se's fall to Father in person. I was wondering if you wanted to come along."

"Father will have me killed if I go into Fire nation waters," Zuko said, hollowly, and at that moment, he hated her more than anything. She had ripped the Avatar out from under his feet, killed him, sent him packing for the spirit world, and now the Avatar would be reborn as a baby in the Water tribe.

He had been so close. So close, and just like everything else, Azula had taken away his chances. His chance at impressing Grandfather, his chance at impressing Father, and now his chance at retrieving his honour. Snatched, stolen away with a clever smirk.

"Now that the Northern Water Tribe is the last bastion of the free world, Zuko, I'm going to destroy it, and present the entire world to Father on his birthday, two months from now. Surely he'll allow you to present your case and then seek the new Avatar," Azula said. "Don't worry. I'll keep him from getting your other eye."

Zuko didn't know what to say. Here she was, the stealer, the thief, the ruiner of everything he wanted and held dear, and she held an offer above his head on a string. She dangled it in his face, swaying and bobbing, and he knew she'd pull it out of his grasp the second he reached for it.

"Besides," Azula said, "Uncle's going. Don't you want to go with him, to see his execution?"

Zuko looked to the floor in shame. He grit his teeth, and nodded, and Azula unfolded her hands with a smile, and she said, "It's settled, then. We make for the Royal Palace in two weeks, once we've dismantled Ba Sing Se. The pathetic scum here still doesn't know that their precious King is gone, we might as well begin removing the walls."

And off Azula went, not even bothering to hear his reply. She began giving orders, calling scribes and calling for messenger hawks, and preparing the elimination plans. Talks of burning and razing began. Talks of looting began. Talks of summoning great amounts of soldiers began, and how the elimination of the countryside and city of Ba Sing Se had to be as co-ert as the coup itself.

Zuko sat down on the steps to the throne and folded his arms across his knees, tucking his head down. He got to thinking, right then, about what he had just done, what he had just helped.

No one paid any attention to him but Azula, who so casually reached down to him as she passed down the stairs. She stroked his hair once, and then twice, and if it weren't for the rake of her nails, he might have thought this caring.

"Don't fret," she said, "I'll keep you safe."

One might have said he had regrets and worries, and they were right.

Zuko couldn't run now.

Zuko couldn't find safety.



Zuko hadn't seen Mai up close in years. True, she hadn't changed much – she still had a strong profile and sharp eyes, the same dark hair, cut into a rather foreign style. She still wore overbearing traditional robes; and most of all she still had the same calm and quiet attitude.

"How have you been?" he asked, drawing himself away from the great bonfire in the courtyard, the one that was burning centuries worth of ancient scrolls pulled from the shelves of Ba Sing Se's greatest library. The flames must have reached ten feet high, the fire was so big, and a few civilians gathered around it in tears.

Mai didn't reply at first, she just looked him over, and then she said, "I've been fine."

Zuko waited a heartbeat, and then impatiently asked, "Aren't you going to ask how I've been?"

"No," she said, calmly, though with the slightest bit of disgust. "I can guess how you've been."

True. Didn't stop him from feeling stung, though, and he looked away from her and set his eyes on the fire. A civilian was wailing about lost history and lost memories, but they could do nothing as the Dai Li piled on more and more scrolls.

"Hmph," Zuko scowled, and Mai glanced at him. He glanced at her, and then he said, "Well, whatever, then. I don't know why I bother talking to you, you're so quiet."

"Because Ty Lee is loud and rambunctious, and Azula is your sister. You talk to me because I'm not crazy," Mai said, diplomatic, and there was the slightest of amused – and abused – looks there. She continued, "You don't have to feel like you have to, though."

Zuko didn't quite know how to reply to that, so he just said, "Do you want to see the city? I know my way around."

"Not really," Mai said, but she took his arm anyway, the same way any young lady would take the arm of her escort. Zuko struggled to smile naturally when his face was getting to be so hot in the cheeks, but he thought he managed just fine, all things considered.

"Good, because I know this fountain…"



"Aaaah, this has been fun," Ty Lee said, "but I think I'm ready to join the circus again."

Mai glanced over, bored, and she said, "I'm sick of the Earth kingdom. Toppling kingdoms is just work, not fun."

Ty Lee had dropped down onto her hands, and with minimal effort, she flipped her legs in the air. She paced back and forth, on her palms, with her legs dangling in front of her. Mai watched as her friend went back and forth, back and forth, lifting and lowering her legs as needed to keep balance.

Not once, in all these years, had she envied Ty Lee's ability to do so. It looked horribly uncomfortable, and she didn't fancy those arms. No, Mai was much more comfortable in her long and heavy robes.

"You know, I was happy in the circus, before Azula showed up," Ty Lee said as she flipped back to her feet, and Mai raised an eyebrow. Ty Lee brushed the dust off her hands, glancing at the tiled floor with an almost accusatory look, and she said, "She's fun and all, and I like the adventure, but she's too…"

Mai waited for Ty Lee to find the word. It didn't come.

"She has too much avarice," Mai suggested.

"What's that?" Ty Lee replied.

Mai wondered if she should be talking like this so frankly. After all – to be out of Azula's favour meant her family could be out of favour with the Royal family, and that wasn't good. Mai said, quietly, "It means she wants a lot."

"I think everyone wants a lot," Ty Lee replied, with a smile, but her eyebrows dipped down to look concerned. Mai shrugged.

"Not me. I just want something to do," Mai said.

"Me too!" Ty Lee enthused, sympathetically, and then she said, "Well, I guess we should pack sooner or later. I mean, the walls are down, the people are running like bugs, and then we get to go home!"

"Azula wants us to detour back to the prison where those Kyoshi warriors are," Mai corrected, "then we're catching her ship back home."

Ty Lee made a disgusted face, her round cheeks lifting. Mai didn't say anything, and then Ty Lee said, "Why? I mean, we already know everything, I dunno why she cares so much. But it's boring to just walk around this palace! There aren't even any cute guards here! So I guess going is okay, even if it's totally grimy there. Ew."

"Remember when we were kids and Azula got that dollhouse for her birthday?" Mai asked. She wondered, vaguely, how to phrase what she wanted to say, but she didn't need to worry. Ty Lee was already off rambling.

"Oh, oh, I remember that one! Is it the one she melted the next month?" Ty Lee said, and then she rambled on: "Gosh, I remember how she didn't want to do cartwheeling and stuff for weeks, all she wanted to do was play out stories with those dumb dolls and how they were her personal worshippers or something! I even invited her to sleep over, a few times, and she said no, because she wanted to play with her dolls alone!"

"Yes," Mai said, "exactly."

Exactly.



He found Azula on the balcony. She was in her sleeping robes, still, and that was cause for a bit of embarrassment, as she had called him into her room without informing him of that. It was, well… indecent, but as long as she was covered up, he didn't care.

"You wanted to say something to me?" he said, none-too-sweetly. Azula glanced at him over her shoulder, as if he was a mere afterthought, and then she went back to overlooking the city.

"Wonderful, isn't it?" she said, almost happily, as she surveyed. Zuko joined her, bracing his hands against the railing, and he shrugged.

The walls were being dismantled, but more than that, he could see hundreds of thousands of people gathered around the palace walls. They made such a ruckus that Zuko could almost hear from, even from so far away, and he glanced at Azula sidelong with a frown. She almost seemed to be admiring them.

"You do know they hate you, right?" he asked.

"Oh, but they came to see me all the same," Azula replied.

"You're so arrogant it makes me feel sick," Zuko replied.

"Mind where you are sick, then, I can't stand the smell," Azula said.

"Did you call me up to point out your adoring fans and tell me not to be sick, or did you actually have a point in calling me up here?" Zuko demanded, and Azula shrugged and left the balcony. He followed her, almost to the point of stomping his feet.

She seated herself in front of the Earth king's dresser and began to do her hair. She said, "Oh, I wanted to talk, but give me a moment. This is all such a hassle without servants everywhere, to do everything for me. I can hardly get anything done."

Zuko knew this was a bit fat lie, too: even as a child, Azula had rarely allowed the needless help of servants around her personal quarters. They made her beds, they took care of her physical room, but Azula dressed herself, did her own make-up, and did her own hair. She was being difficult now for Zuko's sake, and it drove him up walls.

"Brush my hair for me, will you?" she said, and she looked at him with eyes ready to kill. Zuko scowled, an expression he knew would become redundant very, very soon, and he stalked over. She held out a brush, and he took it.

At this point, he just wanted to know what she wanted and leave. He ran it through her hair none-too-nicely, and she reached up and grabbed his wrist, and said, "Be nice."

"Only if you will be," Zuko said, and Azula smiled at her own reflection.

"Very well," she said, and released him. He was gentler, even nice, and when she was satisfied with how things were going, she said, "I've called my ship. My personal guard will take us, and we'll be escorted by General Shang and his unit."

"Alright," Zuko said, not pleased. "When are we leaving?"

"If we leave tomorrow morning, we should be able to arrive at the port on the same day my ship gets there," Azula said. "At this rate, you'll be home by time the full moon rolls around."

"Great," Zuko said, still not pleased. "Anything else you wanted to tell me? Or do you have any more pointless chores? And I'm being sarcastic, don't dare actually give me more chores."

"I'll give you whatever I want, in my kingdom," Azula said, and she pushed his hands from her way, so she could draw her hair up into a topknot. It, like everything else, was perfect, too. She said, diligently, "And before I forget, we're making a quick stop to a prison en route. I have some friends I need to catch up with, let them know how things went with Ba Sing Se."

Zuko kept on frowning and feeling angry and Azula waved him off. He wondered, bitterly, how he could be so alone while a witch like her had friends everywhere.

"Go then, if you're going to be sour to me," she said, with a smile, "I'm sure you can't wait to get home to Father, anyway."

In all honesty, he really could.



Zuko had just pulled off his shirt and picked up his loose sleeping pants when Azula opened the door to his room, uninvited. He made a show of tripping over his discarded shirt in surprise, and when he caught himself against the dresser, he growled at her, "You could knock."

"I could," Azula agreed. "But don't be so rude: I've just come to wish you a good night and remind you that we're leaving before the sun rises, tomorrow. If you're not ready, you can run behind my palanquin."

"No thanks," Zuko said. He huffed and she lingered in the doorway, as if she were waiting to be invited in for a heartwarming brother-to-sister chat. When she waited, he said, grumpily, "Did you want something or are you just going to stand there all night?"

Apparently, she did.

"You know, Zuko," Azula said, slyly, "I never really found much wisdom in all the old-fashioned proverbs Uncle told us, as children, but one of them seems to be true, at least, for you."

"Oh?" Zuko said, brushing her off gracelessly. Azula's smirk twitched wider, for a second, and only then did Zuko pay more attention. She stalked closer, like a cat on the prowl. He was curious, even if he knew he'd be insulted in mere moments.

He was too hotheaded to not get angry, anyway.

"'A child's life is like a piece of paper, on which every person leaves a mark'," Azula recited, calmly, and then she slid one hand around his shoulder to pull him closer. The gesture was remarkably unusual, and Zuko knew what she was thinking.

She just wanted to whisper vicious little "lies" into his ears.

"I wonder, brother, how my mark looks. We all know what Father's is like, but I imagine mine is much more discreet," she said, "Like a knife cut clean through paper... you don't see what effect it has on your scroll until you try to roll everything up together again. It just tears to shreds and pieces."

Zuko scoffed, but he felt the back his neck and his ear burn with anger, and his shoulders grew more rigid. He racked his brain for something he could retort with, but he just couldn't bring any of Uncle's proverbs to mind. Hadn't they been repeated to him every day for years, like mantras? Why couldn't he recall a single one when he needed to use one against her?

All he could remember was the one about flies and hatchets, and that was no good.

So he just let out an annoyed growl and pulled away from her, angrily. He said, "Shut up, Azula."

Azula didn't follow his pull, and she said, "Don't be upset just because it's true."

"No man is perfected without trials," Zuko said, finally, after a moment of contemplation. He was pretty sure he was missing half of it, but that was fine. Azula's smirk flickered, and then there was her reply, smooth as honey and twice as sickly sweet:

"If you believe everything you hear, then you'd best not hear," Azula replied.

She made a reach towards his intact ear, the one that worked best, as if she intended to snap it right off with her claws, but she did the motion in mid-air, almost teasing him. He moved away and swatted at her, and she only smiled and danced out of his reach, and with a smirk and a little "Sleep tight, Zuko" she walked right out of the room.



Their departure was so early, Zuko was surprised he even managed to get up. He was still exhausted from the week before, and he could only grumble and mumble under his breath as he was given a mount to ride. He arranged himself into the saddle, and was otherwise treated as a curiosity. He was, unfortunately, the banished prince. No one cared about how in the dark he was, it was all the same to them.

He was expected to shut up and ride, and go wherever he was led. He kept his ride near the side of Azula's palanquin, despite the fact that he didn't want to be anywhere near her, simply because she had all the information. He listened to all the things she was offered, and then one of the pages turned to him to say, "Zuko, you've been invited to ride with the General, too."

Azula glanced between the page and Zuko, and then shooed the page off. She glanced at Zuko, as he waited for her to make a move towards the General, but she didn't. She just said, "It's a common courtesy for the General to invite the monarchy to ride with him. Go if you want, I won't miss your company."

Zuko thought it was silly and hypocritical of her.

Azula caught his eye as she arranged herself on her seat in the palanquin. She folded one leg over the other, with plenty of decorum, and she said, "Is there something on my face, or are you just incapable of being polite and not staring?"

With the jibe, he snapped back to reality, and he said, skeptically, "Not going to go?"

The corners of her mouth twitched up, and she gave him a cool, remarkably docile stare with those golden eyes. Zuko held the gaze, waiting for an answer, and she finally said, "No. Generals lead the troops, if you recall. You and I are lieutenant generals."

Zuko sort of stared for a moment, his mouth opening a bit and then clamping shut. He said, "Well, still, aren't you going to ride with the General? I've been invited to, and it's in my –– our –– rank."

"No, thanks," Azula said, "I've never ridden with him." She paused to pick under one flawless nail, despite the fact that there was nothing marring its perfect surface. "There's no need for political or military small-talk between us, we can do all that at the colony, and then where-ever the unit is needed. But you may ride with him if you want, if you want to learn from him."

She glanced back at him, raising one eyebrow, and she said, "Unless you'd like to walk by my palanquin and regale me with tales of the Earth Kingdom. It'd be nice to hear it from someone who has lain on his belly with them."

This caught Zuko's nerves and he let out a growl, and he took an angry step towards the palanquin. Azula didn't seem jarred by this sudden show, and she simply shrugged and undid the tie-back on the curtains. The beautiful old fabrics of the ancient curtains fell back, hiding all but her silhouette. He watched her put a hand to her mouth and mime a giggle.

"I suppose not, then," she said, and he turned sharply in his saddle.

He took the reins angrily and he jostled them violently, and then swung himself into the saddle. The giant lizard's sides heaved, under his legs, and he kicked it into a trot. It slunk alongside the lines of troops, snaking up to match paces with the General's.

"General Shang," Zuko said, respectfully, shoving down all his bitterness. "It's an honour to fight alongside you, sir. My Uncle has spoken of you many times."

General Shang turned his head, just barely, so he could see Zuko out of the corner of his eye. Zuko could see that he was a man just past his prime, old enough to be a General but not old enough to be one that hung around on the sidelines. He wasn't terribly battle scarred, other than a long, freshly-healed slash across one cheek, but Zuko knew a warrior when he saw one. It was something about the way they carried themselves, with the strong, confidently-held shoulders and the way they lifted their chins, and this man, with his harsh features and his heavy build, certainly suggested power.

Besides, no one became a General without good reason. As goofy as his Uncle Iroh could be, he was a powerful man. A powerful man at his younger brother's mercy, but a powerful man all the same.

"Prince Zuko," General Shang said, almost droll. Zuko didn't like the tone, and it was confirmed when the General said, "Or, should I say, Zuko the Banished. It's a right shame. Had your Uncle not chosen to accompany you in your exile, he would have remained a candidate for First Class."

Zuko replied, "Are you saying he ruined himself for me?"

"No, boy," General Shang replied, "He slaughtered his own glory, ruined his chances to become an Admiral, and then he picked up all the tiny pieces and crushed them under your dead weight."

Zuko was stunned. His fingers curled around the reins tighter, the raw leather creaking, and he replied, "My Uncle Iroh is a great man, and I'm not––"

"Oh, shut up, boy, before you give me cause to regale your father with tales of riding with you," the General huffed. He scoffed, he scorned, and overall, he infuriated Zuko, who could do nothing but comply, if he wanted to get home.



Azula was confident enough when they arrived that her friend would be in the mood for a good chat over tea, or perhaps just a good chat.

The girl began to seem a bit crazy, after a while, delirious and ridiculous. Like her brain wasn't functioning right – like her head was going soft, like things would just floated in one ear and out the other one. Azula could imagine why: the scarce bit of food she got once a day wasn't enough to sate her hunger, the few hours she managed to sleep while curled on the floor wasn't enough to ward off the exhaustion, and the wounds she had received over the weeks didn't heal well. Azula had no doubts about any of that, after all.

It stood to reason that her mind was starting to get a bit foggy, especially as she sat in the dark for hours and hours, with only the feeble light from the hall.

And, after three weeks away, Azula saw her good friend again. When her friend was starting to go a bit loopy, that was when Azula showed up, leaning against the door but not quite looking through the window. Azula said, almost playful, "Still have hope?"

"Yes," Suki said, but she lied about it, and Azula knew it.

And then Azula only smiled and disappeared from view, but she knew Suki was bringing her knees up to her chest and curling into a painful ball. Azula knew Suki was gritting her teeth to keep from crying. She couldn't cry in front of Azula.



Zuko felt uncomfortable, to say the least. Mai didn't seem too better off, judging by how she sat on the very edge of her chair, as if she didn't want to touch its surface. Ty Lee had refused to even come inside, this time around, and Zuko didn't blame her. It was positively disgusting, in these lower-level rooms, like there hadn't been a cleaning in weeks.

He was paying close attention to what looked like bloodstains on the tabletop, but then decided to spare himself his lunch and pretend it wasn't. He just paced, in the painful silence, until he had to break it.

"And what exactly were you doing here?" Zuko scrunched up his nose. "If you already had the uniforms, why would you bother coming here? I'd've just left them in the woods."

"Beats me," Mai sighed, and then she waved a hand, dismissively. She said, "This place is just perfect for someone like her, anyway."

"She thrives here," Zuko agreed. He glanced at her, sidelong, and he said, "Why do you even bother with her?"

"Because I have to," Mai said, almost bitterly. She continued, "And that's where we stop talking about my friendship with her."

Zuko frowned, but he said, "But Mai––"

"I know you have a lot of personal bias against her," Mai said, lifting her voice, "and trust me, so do I. But that doesn't matter. Like I said, we're not discussing that anymore."

Zuko scowled and fell into a stony silence. It lingered like the humidity in the air, and Mai's eyes were set dead ahead of her, not exactly focusing on anything, while Zuko's moved from mildew stain to rust to suspicious mark on the wall. Water was puddling in one corner, dripping from the steel-reinforced ceiling.

Finally, Mai broke the silence with a quiet, "The funny thing about being a politician's daughter is that you learn a lot about politics over the dinner table, but can't say anything about them. I never had anything against the Earth kingdom, not once. Those girls might have been annoying and flimsy and pathetic warriors, but Azula takes everything too far."

There was another pause, and then Mai said, "But, then again, what do you care?" The silence resumed, and Mai seemed to fume, quietly.

Zuko felt his discomfort grow until he figured it would be more comfortable to sit on a bed of needles. He would have preferred to share a room with a starving predator, or to be facing down Azula herself, which would have been as brutal as hell itself, and twice as hot.

He wasn't sure what made it so bad to hear, but the fact that Mai seemed so horribly against Azula yet unsympathetic to Zuko's plea just made him feel trapped. He took another glance around the room, concerned and yet so panicked, and he wondered if Uncle Iroh was going to be in here any time soon. He wondered if they'd be leaving his Uncle here.

"I want to leave," Zuko said, but that was irrelevant. At that moment, the door swung open with a bang and both Zuko and Mai looked up. Azula was standing in the doorway.

Zuko's eyes drifted down her front, and his eyebrows raised. Her lip was bruised. Her breathing was haggard. The front of her shirt was smeared in dirt, the crimson red shoulder-pieces marred. Azula brushed her hands off, businesslike, and then she pulled off the pauldron and dumped it on the ground.

Mai and Zuko stared at her, without saying anything, and Azula announced, "I'm going to change. I expect to find you two prepared to leave with the rest of the unit in exactly twenty minutes."

Her tone was livid, her nostrils flared just slightly, and she lifted her chin. She was all too enraged, and Mai just said, "Alright, Princess Azula."

Mai took Zuko by the wrist and led him past Azula with her head held high, without questioning anything. As Zuko went, he looked at Azula over his shoulder, and watched her bring a hand over her ribs and cringe, and he felt a twinge of concern.

When they started up the stairs, they met Ty Lee on the landing. Ty Lee said, "Gee, I told her that taunting that girl would get her hurt, but she never listens to anyone."

Zuko just replied, as Mai kept him walking and Ty Lee fell into step behind them, "No kidding."

Zuko's concern washed away, to be rapidly replaced with more hatred for his sister.



When they hit the road, Zuko tried to take things into his own hands, his concerns about his sister only heightened by her presence, and that horrible sense of mystery about her. Mai's words weren't comforting. Azula's words weren't comforting. Ty Lee's were, at best, humourous, but Zuko just couldn't laugh.

"How come no one suspects you?" Zuko demanded, vehemently. "No one ever considers that you're the one that's pulling all the strings here. You're always around when someone goes missing or dies. And not just with mother or grandfather – and all the people you encounter, too. So many people have died under suspicious circumstances brought by you and never has anyone suggested you did it."

Azula didn't seem to care one way or the other – Zuko could have been talking about the weather, and it'd all be the same to her. She just peered at her nails as if there were something disgusting lodged under them, though they were as pristine as ever. Zuko waited for some sort of answer, and finally, Azula looked up, with one eyebrow raised skeptically. She said, almost surprised at his accusation, "Because I didn't."

"That's a lie," Zuko admonished, "stop lying to me."

"Well, Zuko, look at this logically. Who would try to place blame on the Princess of the Fire Nation?" Azula replied, curtly. "Even you would be wrong to accuse me of murder, or any crime, in fact. And a peasant calling nobility a murderer would result in an execution, we all know that."

Zuko paused, and then he said, "Uncle Iroh is an honest man, and you're making him walk in chains because you're too conceited to admit your own faults."

"As if I have faults," Azula replied, swiftly. She moved from her chair with something akin to impatience, her lip curling and her eyes going straight ahead of her. She hopped out of the palanquin as it stopped moving, and she walked briskly, and Zuko jerked the reins of the great lizard to get it to follow her.

"Where are you going?" he demanded, and she only looked over her shoulder and offered him one of those wicked looks, and when he followed her path with his eyes, he saw that she was headed straight for the General. "Azula!" he said, immediately concerned and angry, "Azula, come back here!"

She ignored him, with good reason, and Zuko let out a huff of indignity, but he tried to look calm as the General stopped the entire procession to speak with Azula. The General even dismounted to speak with her, and he sank to one bulky knee with great difficulty. Even then, he was so tall he was nearly eye-level with her.

He said, "Is there something the matter, Princess Azula?"

"Yes, in fact, there is," Azula replied, and Zuko could have hurled when he heard that adopted sweet tone, because the poisonous undertone was absolutely noxious. Azula said, with the slightest gesture behind her, "My brother has been in the Earth kingdom for some time, and I've just discovered he isn't fit to be travel at my side. I wish to have him made a member of the unit, and march."

Zuko protested, coming to a stop behind her, "Azula! You're crazy!" The mental image of himself with basic armour, marching on foot, and acting as nothing but a lackey was positively painful to imagine.

Azula didn't even look at him, she kept her eyes trained on the General's the entire time, and the faintest of smiles lingered on her lips. She said, "This will be done, correct?"

Azula probably didn't even need to use those tones with the General. It seemed that the General had wanted the same thing all along, for he all too easily lifted his eyes to Zuko and said, "You've heard the Princess, boy. Fall in."

"What?" Zuko said, fairly disgusted. The General narrowed his eyes.

"Fall in," he repeated.

Azula turned then to look at him, and she took the reins of the beast near its mouth. Zuko got the slightest bit of satisfaction when it bucked its head up and almost knocked her off balance, but when Azula ordered him to dismount, he wasn't so pleased.

"Banished or not, I'm the Prince of the Fire Nation," Zuko said, "I'm not some peasant boy drafted into the army, I refuse."

"I'll make sure to tell Dad that," Azula said, and she looked up at him with dangerous eyes. "I'm sure he'd be glad to hear that his screw-up son still hasn't learnt to listen to his General. Until you're back in his good graces, let's keep the rebellion to a minimal, hm, Zuko?"

Zuko felt the hate bubble in his gut, and all at once, he regretted siding with Azula. It made him feel sick to his stomach. He held her gaze for a moment, silently, and then he swung himself out of the saddle. He practically whipped the reins into Azula's hands, he was so angry, and he stomped off to join the company with his mouth turned down in fury and his eyebrow dipped low.

He pushed himself in between two soldiers and settled there, angrily, both of them looking nervously amused. Azula gave him a look of smugness, and then she gave a curt nod to the General. She smiled and headed back towards her palanquin as the General remounted his ride and turned in the saddle to roar the commands.

And Zuko marched.



"If you do nothing to take your own destiny, you'll just be a failure forever. Much like how a pauper remains a pauper, you see. And how much of a waste would that be? Now, of course, if someone's willing to pick that pauper up and turn him into a prince, that's different."

Zuko didn't reply to this jibe. He just kept chewing on his dinner. He kept his eyes on his plate, determined not to get into an argument with Azula here. He felt sober, despite his drained glass, and despite how Mai's hand kept drifting to rest on his thigh under the table.

"What do you think, Zuko?" Azula prompted, and Zuko swallowed his mouthful of chicken and reached for another piece from the communal bowl. When he didn't acknowledge her, she reached over with her chopsticks and pinched the end of his own pair, and held them still, so he couldn't do anything.

He looked up and said, "Would you leave me alone already?"

(At this, the candles melted down a good inch or two, as the flames surged so intensely as he snapped at her. Bits of wax trickled across the table.)

"Aw, come on, Zuko," Ty Lee whined, "We're just talking about destiny! It's so neat, you don't have to be such a fuddy-duddy!"

"I'd rather not," Zuko declined, and he yanked his chopsticks from Azula's with a scowl. He moved to grab another piece of chicken, and this time, she let him. He popped it in his mouth.

"Why not?" Azula said, "It's just friendly conversation, Ty Lee's right. You don't have to act like such a child."

"I'm not acting like a child," Zuko snapped, and at that very moment, the ship rocked with the water, nearly toppling their dinner glasses. Mai braced herself with one hand against his shoulder, and he glanced at her sideways. She let go, and went back to her dinner.

"Well then, play nicely and discuss destiny with us," Azula said. Her fingertips brushed over Zuko's knuckles when she reached across the table to lay her hand on his, and then she took his hand and forcibly turned it over. Zuko didn't move, and she bent his fingers open, a movement that he resisted to at first and then allowed. He didn't know what she was up to.

"Ever done chiromancy?" Azula asked.

"No, it's for little kids and old women," Zuko replied. "As if you know anything about palm reading, Azula."

"Be nice, or I can arrange for your dinner to be sent to the stockades, where I'm sure Uncle would enjoy the company," Azula said, all too diplomatic for a girl of her mindset. When Zuko just breathed through his nose, angrily, she just went back to inspecting his palm, and after a second, she let it go.

"You're going to die cold and unhappy, I think," she said. She glanced at Ty Lee sideways, and then at Mai, and she said, seriously, "What do you think? An early grave? No love? I thought I saw a bit of doom and despair in there, but I could be wrong."

Zuko scowled again, and he muttered, under his breath, "Uncle'd be better company than you."

"What's that?" Azula prompted, lifting her eyebrows, and Zuko shook his head. Azula smirked, and Zuko felt Ty Lee reach over and grab his hand. He let her peruse it, rather impatiently, and the last straw was drawn when she finished and announced her own results.

"No wonder you're such a terrible firebender!" Ty Lee exclaimed, "Your fingers are so long, and your palm isn't exactly square. Gee, they're like Earth hands. Maybe you spent too much time there!"

Zuko had had enough. He shoved himself away from her, ripping his hand from her grip, and he stood up. He said, angrily, "I've had enough! Just cut it out, all of you!"

"I didn't do anything," Mai huffed, and Zuko rounded on her.

"No, but you let them," Zuko said, "Just stop it with the jokes, it's getting a really old. I've spent time in the Earth nation, yes, you can shut up about it. Having hands that aren't Fire hands doesn't mean anything. Stupid little creases on your hands don't mean anything, either!"

Azula's frustrations seemed to surface, a bit, and she put down her chopsticks neatly, and she looked up at him skeptically. The jibe got to Zuko immediately.

"If it doesn't mean anything, why are you getting so upset?"

"Because it annoys me!" Zuko snapped.

"Because you don't know how to control your temper and your emotions," Azula replied, "and that's why you're such a failure."

Zuko had had enough. He quite literally threw down his chopsticks, a rude act in itself, and they fell upon the table crossed in an "x". Ty Lee gasped and flicked them apart, and Zuko ignored her and said, "Goodnight."

"Sleep well," Azula replied, but Zuko was already out the door. He slammed it behind him with a great metal clang, and she merely commented, "He's so easy."



Azula was out of bed at the same time as usual, at the crack of dawn. She trained on the deck of the ship for two hours, as usual, but had to stop early, and she trained gentler than usual, as she had for the past weeks. Generally, the ship docking was no reason to stop training, as she did whatever she wanted, and she would have asked them to go in circles for a bit just so she could finish her training without being bothered by docking, but she was pulling into home, and she had other business to attend to.

With displeasure, she oversaw the docking, and approached Zuko to inform him of the day's schedule. Obviously, when she took him by surprise on the helm of the ship, with Mai at his side, he wasn't pleased.

Especially when the message was, "I've sent for your formal clothes, I expect you to be ready within the hour, Zuko."

"Why do I need formal clothes?" he said. He was wearing beige pants and a plain crimson robe, hardly clothes for a returning prince, banished or not. When she glanced him up and down, he said, "Why not just regular clothes? Unless I'm meeting with Father today?"

"You aren't," Azula said, curtly, "we have an execution to attend."

Zuko's mouth fell open and he gave Mai a helpless look, which, Azula was pleased to note, Mai didn't give into. Zuko turned back to Azula and said, "Uncle Iroh's being executed? Without even a trial? That's not fair!"

"Look at it this way: it's Uncle's fault that the siege on the North failed, and he almost interrupted Ba Sing Se. I've been sending messenger hawks back and forth with Father ever since, they've more or less decided a verdict for him."

"Does he know?" Zuko demanded, "Does he know he's being disrespected like this? He's a great General, he's--"

"Oh, stop it, Zuko, it's pathetic to be so concerned about a traitor and a kook. Especially one that turned against you, in the end. He's hardly fit to be called family, if he can't be trusted at all." With a casual sigh, Azula brushed it off and glanced at Mai to ask, "Are you coming?"

Zuko said nothing, and Mai said, "Might as well, if everyone else is."



When Azula boarded her palanquin to go from the ship straight to the execution grounds, and Zuko sort of stood there like an idiot at the foot of hers, she didn't bother telling him that only royalty rode in them, and he was still considered banished.

"Is Father attending?" Zuko asked. He was wearing formal robes, but as there weren't any that were made to fit him, his was baggy and draped over him like it was going to smother him, something that honestly amused Azula.

She said, "No. He's a busy man."

"He can't even attend the execution of his own brother?" Zuko said, almost angry, and Azula looked at him pointedly.

"If it makes you feel better, Zuzu, if you were being executed, I'd get front row seats. Just to prove I care."

She reached out of the palanquin and patted him on the shoulder, and Zuko curled his lip. She then glanced around the gathering crowds, as they neared the grounds. The crowd was as silent as the grave, and for a good reason: Iroh's execution had been advertised for a week now, and as shamed as he was, he still had many fans from his glory days. People came from far and wide to cry over a fool, Azula thought.

She could see the pyre built, the wood around it arranged in a bare ring for symbolism alone. The metal post in the middle of it stood high on the hill, against the clouds. The chains, and their blackened manacles, dangled in the breeze. The rig hadn't been used in years.

News travelled fast in the Fire nation, anyway, and lovers and haters alike were united to see it. The only thing missing was the Fire Lord himself, but the Crown Princess more than did the job. And then, too, was the rumour that the banished princes was returning.

All the more reason, Azula thought, to make Zuko walk next to her palanquin, even if he wouldn't go behind it. She felt all eyes flick between her, Zuko, and the pole. Azula said, softly, "Today, we gather to learn the meaning of the term 'blood traitor'."

Eyes turned to her, as if she were addressing them personally, and amongst those eyes was Zuko's single good eye. His ruined eye barely flicked to her properly.

Her own amber eyes turned onto the post, upon which Uncle Iroh was being shackled to. But her eyes drifted back to Zuko almost immediately. Her brother's face was wrenched with sorrow, as if a huge claw was hooked into his gut, and he was struggling to stay apathetic towards it all. Azula understood his great emotional turmoil, but she felt no pity for him.



The speeches went on for literally an hour, and the morning was grey but dry. Iroh stood patiently, and he even had the gall to smile, and playfully banter off whatever the master of the ceremonial execution was saying. It was horribly awkward, to see the master of ceremonies explain Iroh's life, and have Iroh casually correct him or tack on more details.

But what Zuko found even worse, really, was the way that Uncle Iroh responded to his list of apparent crimes:

"No matter what I am accused of, I will always believe that I have chosen the right path in life, and cheerfully invited others to join me in happiness, although they don't always agree to come along."

Zuko felt that claw at his throat like poisons, and he shuddered and looked at his feet. He couldn't see Iroh's face anymore. The shame devoured him, and Azula, standing next to him, didn't seem to be bothered by any of it.

In fact, she just looked as if she wouldn't mind getting back in her palanquin and going for a ride.

He looked at her, and said, "What can I do to stop this?"

Azula lifted her eyebrows, loftily, and she replied, "Is precious Zuzu desperate for help? What makes you sure you can stop it?"

Zuko ignored the jibe. His mind was so focused on their Uncle's impending execution, he couldn't even imagine how long he had to stop the whole procession. He didn't know how much longer the talk would go on, before they made with the flame. He was freaking out, inside, and Azula wasn't helping.

He said, desperately, "You're a manipulative, scheming liar that everyone likes. You can do it, I know you can."

"Of course I can," Azula replied, "But for what reason? I enjoy seeing traitors brought to justice."

Zuko hesitated. He said, "I'll do anything. You name it, I'll do it. I'll do anything."

Azula let a smirk slide across her lips, and Zuko waited, with baited breath, for what she was going to reply with. She didn't say a word, and he just watched her, and then watched Iroh, and then watched Azula again. He was terrified, and then Azula lifted a hand. She placed it on his shoulder.

He stared at her, and she made eye contact with him, unblinking. Her eyes unfocused, suddenly, and he said, "Azula?"

She let out a short, rapid breath, and her other hand went to her ribs, and she clutched them gently. Zuko was alarmed, suddenly, and Zuko said, a bit louder, "Azula?!"

He said this so loud that everyone around them turned, and Mai and Ty Lee's eyebrows raised. Iroh looked their way, which caused Zuko great guilt, to show concern over Azula at his execution. And, most of all, the master of ceremony turned to look at them, which caused the rest of the crowd to peer in their direction.

Azula let out another pained breath, and she cringed, as if she were in a great deal of pain. Her hand on his shoulder tightened, and she started to bend at the knees.

"Azula, what's wrong?" he said, rightly surprised, and her eyes lifted to his, remarkably clear, though her chest heaved and her breath grew horrible to listen to. Her eyes locked on his, as if she were waiting for him to cue her, and he put an arm around her, to support her weight, and then her eyes rolled back into her head.

Her mouth dropped open, and her limbs slackened, and she fell against his chest and down still, and he caught her belatedly, having to fold to his own knees to support her. She made herself completely boneless, and she let out a very real hiss of pain when he brought an arm across her ribcage to hoist her up.

"Azula?" he repeated, and he felt genuinely freaked out. She didn't reply, her eyes closed, and he said, "Azula! Azula!"

His heart was beating fast, and Mai and Ty Lee flocked around him, as did several others in the area. The speaker left his podium near Iroh in a rush, with a loud call of "Someone fetch the healers, the Princess has collapsed!"

There was a flurry everywhere, and even the war ministers were paying more attention to Azula than Iroh. In the chaos, with Azula drawn across his lap and so many people, and Ty Lee being stupid and Mai being calm, Zuko was trying to see Iroh through the sea of legs, but he couldn't.

He said, to some General kneeling down to lift Azula from his lap, "Won't you stop the ceremony? Something's really wrong! The life of the Crown Princess is more important than a stupid execution!"

There didn't seem to be much agreement to this, but Azula was still alive, after all –– she didn't lift her head, but she did whisper something to the General, and before Zuko knew it, he was back at the Palace, Azula was whisked off to the healers for a problem that didn't actually exist, and the manacles on the post were hanging empty in the wind once more.



When he came into the room, he clapped his hands, slowly, almost sarcastically, and Azula propped herself up against her pillows, quite capably. She said, delicately, "You had quite the freak out when I collapsed, there, dear brother."

"I wasn't expecting you to do that," Zuko said, and he paused, long and hard. Then he said, awkwardly, "Thank you."

Azula didn't want to deal with the fact that he was thanking her -- he'd never done that before, and she didn't want him thinking she was charitable at all. So instead, she said, "You were so concerned I was actually suffering there. For a moment, you seemed genuinely upset that I was down. And here I thought you hated me."

"I knew you were acting," Zuko said, but she knew he was lying. She always knew when he was lying.

"Sure you did," Azula said, calmly. She smiled.

Zuko held that bittersweet gaze and then broke it with a "Fine, I believed it."

"See, I'm always right," she said.

"You sounded so convincing, that's all," Zuko said, still unwilling to admit defeat. "You sounded as if you were actually in pain from something."

"Because I was," Azula said, and Zuko opened his mouth to say something, but she cut him off with a pointed, "I, unlike you, don't show off my wounds to everyone. But before you can even try to rub it in, yes, I got injured in a battle, due to an accident. You do not need to know the details."

"What did you injure?" Zuko inquired, anyway, and Azula sighed and leant back into her pillows, folding her hands behind her head. She stifled a yawn with one hand, and then resumed her relaxed pose.

"I cracked three ribs, believe it or not, and it restricts my mobility and breathing. That, dear brother, is why I've avoided using bending for the past weeks."

"That Waterbender girl that tough, now?" Zuko said, and then scoffed. Azula remembered that she and Zuko had never spoken about the fight itself, that evening, not even a thanks or an acknowledgement that the other was halfway decent at bending. "She wasn't too difficult for me. But when she caught ahold of your arm and legs, I thought you were in trouble."

"Trust me, the only reason why either of them had an advantage was because of my ribs' injuries, which I sustained the week before," Azula said. "When I breathe sharply, it hurts, and when you grabbed me around the ribs, it hurt even more. Easy as that."

Zuko didn't say anything, for a moment, and he sat down at the end of her bed. He said, "Why didn't you see healers?"

"Because the Earth kingdom is archaic, fire-style healing only cure the body of sickness, and I'm not going to find some random waterbender to fix a temporary problem?" Azula said, with a roll of her eyes. "At any rate, I'll give it a few more weeks, and then I'll be fine."

"Mm."

He turned to leave, shoulders squared, and she cut him off. "Alright, then, Zuko, one last thing before you go," Azula said. "I was wondering why you hate me so much."

She let it roll off her tongue, as smooth as fine silk, and she watched Zuko's shoulders lay back when she approached. When he said nothing, she smiled, and she reached up behind her to draw her hair into a top-knot. She held the tie betwixt her lips as she did, confident that Zuko wouldn't say anything.

He didn't. He was too busy staring at her with that nasty look, the one that could curdle milk. Not that it struck fear into anything but the smallest man, anyway, but Azula didn't like it. She preferred that the eyes on her were either offering challenge or adoring her, and she knew well enough that Zuko offered no challenge.

The lack of love in his eyes spoke volumes to her, about his loyalties.

When she had finished tying up her hair, she tilted her head to ease her neck of a kink, and only then did Zuko manage to scrape together an angered, "You keep ruining my life."

That made her lift her chin and narrow her eyes like nothing else. She raised her eyebrows and let a soft breath out of her nose. Zuko waited on tenterhooks, his teeth grit, for her to say "Whatever have I done to you? Granted, I lied once or twice. But every problem you've ever had, you've done to yourself. In fact, all these years, who do you think it was digging you out of trouble?"

"Uncle Iroh," Zuko said, sharply, "It was Uncle, not you. You never helped me."

Azula could have laughed, but she didn't. She was controlled in every aspect of her life as a teenager, flawless, from poise to personality. Azula was, in the eyes of many, potentially the greatest potential ruler the Fire nation had ever seen. At fifteen, she was remarkable. Zuko was just a tiny stone eclipsing her radiance, until she chose to burn him out of her path.

But gone was the child who could shriek in laughter at the slightest nasty thing.

"Never?" she said, with the mildest of surprised tones. "Ungrateful as always. You never embraced what potential you had. If Mother had left sooner, perhaps you'd be more useful, Zuzu."

"Because she cared for me, unlike Dad, who just treated me as a disappointment?" Zuko said, testily.

Azula's hardened heart could not even soften for this. She paused, long and difficult, and then she said, "She never let you grow a backbone of your own, and that's why you continue to disappoint Father today. Maybe if she had met your failures with a cold shoulder, you would have grown a pair, but no. She rewarded your failure with sympathy and soft, gentle words."

Zuko couldn't hit someone sick in bed, Azula or not, liar or not, insulting his mother and himself or not. He just glared at her, glowering as viciously as he could, and he said, "Don't talk about Mom that way."

Azula just stared at him, elegant even in a simple robe and in her great big bed, amongst all the crimson and gold linens and silks. She was grand. She said, "She raised you to be a fool, Zuko. I'm so glad she's gone –– probably rotting in a ditch. Serves her right, choosing the weak over the strong."

Zuko wondered if that was jealousy, or Azula wanting to take everything he had, especially the things she didn't have, just to hurt him. He didn't doubt it, his anger was so palpable, and he could only rise to his feet and demand, "Stop it."

"Make me," Azula said, and she folded her hands across her lap and let out a sigh. She continued, "Now please go, I'd like to rest now. I'll summon you when Father is ready to speak with us."

Zuko let out a disgusted scowl and he turned on his heel, and marched right out of the room.



"Made a deal with the devil, Prince Zuko?"

Zuko had spent a great deal of his life looking down on people, but here, he could only look down on his own two feet, at two perfectly polished boots. Zuko couldn't lift his eyes, he could only stand there with his shoulders down and his hands curled into fists. He stared at the murky old floor of the prison with contempt, wanting nothing more than to melt into its worn old cracks and leak away into nothing.

"To save your life," Zuko said defensively, utterly hurt by how disappointed Iroh sounded in him, and Iroh reached over, through the bars, and he fixed two knuckles under Zuko's chin and lifted his face, to look at him in the eyes. Zuko could barely hold the gaze.

Zuko let his Uncle do this, and then he jerked his face away when Iroh said, "Prince Zuko, I am ashamed of you."

"I made a mistake, Uncle," Zuko said, and he hated how his voice came out angry, all defensive, and he wished that Iroh would just ignore him so he never had to confirm that he had ruined his uncle's faith in him. He wished Iroh would stop looking at him, would stop staring at him like he was a horrible nephew.

Zuko was a horrible nephew.

Zuko said, "Stop looking at me like that, I know I can't change what happened, and now I owe Azula, and it's going to cost me everything."

Uncle Iroh just shook his head and kept on watching. Zuko moved away from the bars, he turned his back on Iroh, and then he turned back to face him once more. He said, "I know I can't ever repay you for everything you've done for me, but..."

Zuko stopped there, embarrassed and flustered all of a sudden, and he said, angrily, "I'm sorry, okay, stop looking at me like that." He dug in his pockets, frantically, and he pulled out a single key on a ring, the key to the cell. He said, "Just take it and get out before they execute you."

He shoved it towards Iroh, and when he didn't take it, Zuko pushed it against his chest. Only then did he finally take it, and hold it between his huge palm and his chest, clasped over his heart.

Zuko made for the door, angry and disappointed and self-loathing. He only glanced back when Uncle Iroh said, "I won't help you run away this time, Prince Zuko, if you're only going to run back."

But Zuko wasn't sure, and all he could is leave and then run, run as fast as he could back to the Palace, before anyone caught him. He couldn't possibly be late for his first meeting with his Father in over three years.



"You've forgotten how to dress yourself," Azula said, curtly, and she seemed extremely displeased, as if the mere thought of him appearing sloppy disgusted her. On one hand, Zuko would have expected that she would enjoy looking pristine next to his ruggedness, but apparently that wasn't the case. His imperfection, it seemed, would offset her perfection.

Zuko replied, "I know how to dress myself." He avoided tacking on a "stupid" at the end of that.

"Clearly, you don't," Azula said, "or else your collar would be on the right way."

Zuko looked down at himself, and realized, oh, he did have his collar on backwards, and that was hardly an easy mistake to make. He grumbled and fumbled with the clasps, and Azula let out a "tch". Zuko said, feeling her impatience, "I have other things on my mind."

"Obviously," Azula said, "but some show of impressing Father, if you appear like a slacker."

He could barely stop her from fixing his clothes herself – she was obviously in a mood to please their father, and he could only stand there while she straightened up the wrist cuffs of his robe and shifted the sash. She even reached up to fix his hair, and with a look of disgust on her face, she said, "Why would you ever let your hair grow so barbaric?"

"People would notice the Fire nation hairstyle," Zuko said, "and I just didn't get around to cutting it often enough, and it's not long enough to go into the topknot yet."

Azula shook her head and mumbled something about the Earth kingdom that Zuko didn't quite get, but he uncomfortably let her fumble with his stubby topknot and coax it into looking presentable, but still some bits were too short to catch, so they fell out and stuck up at weird angles, falling over his forehead and around his ears.

She said, "Ugh, you'll never be perfect, there's always something going wrong with you."

"Shut up," he mumbled, under his breath, and she stopped readjusting the collar of his shirt to look up at him, with vicious gold eyes. He didn't like that, so he turned his eyes towards the ceiling and bitterly said, "But then again, how could I, next to you?"

She said, with a red-lipped smirk, "True."

He sighed, angry and exasperated, and she said, "You've even got your robe folded backwards. Zuko, I don't know what you expect to impress Father with. He doesn't like nervousness, if you've forgotten." She let out a sigh, one that was condescending as ever, and she refolded it. Her nails just barely grazed the bare skin of his chest as she did, and he closed his eyes.

"I don't know," Zuko said.

"That's right," Azula said, "I killed the Avatar, I overturned Ba Sing Se, and Uncle's capture belongs to me, as well. For all you know, Father may look at you and have you killed for returning to the Fire nation after being banished. You must be growing desperately homesick, brother."

Zuko didn't say anything, and Azula brought her lips to his ear to whisper, "But don't worry. If you're so desperate, I'll secure you a place in our world."

He was so painfully aware of her claws on his collarbone, where they held the lip of his collar against his skin, and the proximity of her mouth to his ear. Their cheeks were practically brushing, he could feel her breath as she let out an amused little noise and brought her other hand to rest on his shoulder.

She said, calmly, "Are you desperate, brother?"

He swallowed the dryness in his throat and nodded, and she pulled away. She tucked in his collar properly and stepped away, to give him an inspection. When she seemed satisfied, she said, with a look that told him he'd be paying for her favours for the rest of his life, "If you didn't have me, you'd be dead, wouldn't you?"

"Maybe," Zuko said, his eyes narrowing. He had to clench his teeth to keep himself from spitting out angry remarks, because he knew that Azula really was all that was keeping him safe under the dangerous umbrella of Fire Lord Ozai's rule.

He said, after a moment of silent contemplation, "Was Father really ready to let Grandfather kill me so he would become Fire Lord?"

That was the exact moment that a servant arrived to tell them that their father was ready to see them, so their conversation was cut short, but Zuko kept his eyes trained on Azula with some sort of desperate need for an answer. He waited, and as the servant left and Azula brushed by the great wooden doors, she finally glanced back at him, so calmly, with a look that was surprisingly lacking in cruelty, "Of course he was."

It wasn't pity she used with him, but it was rather more like the way a child would feel when he or she was threatened with having a rather unloved (but still appreciated) toy taken away forever. The child got over it and eventually forgot about it entirely, but they always sort of wished it were there, so that they might be able to throw it around, even if it was to the dogs.

The thought alone brought his tumultuous gut to a crux, where it twisted and turned more violently. Zuko felt like he was going to vomit.

When the servant held open the door for him, he did exactly that.



"He was so worried he threw up?" Ty Lee squeaked, her eyes widening so that Azula could see the whites all the way around.

Azula just nodded, but she couldn't bring herself to be smug over it. Had Zuko done that and she wasn't hinging on him looking presentable to their father, she would have laughed and rubbed in how pathetic he was, but he had chosen the wrong time to get so sick.

"Father wasn't impressed when I showed up before him all alone, but I explained that Zuko felt too shamed to face him. We're going to see him tonight, at dinner," Azula said, and then she paused to say, "I hope he remembers his etiquette and keeps his stomach to himself, because I'd like to enjoy my dinner."

"Ew," Mai commented, dryly.

"That's so gross," Ty Lee said, "I mean, really, he must be so scared! It's a good thing he didn't pee his pants."

"Can we stop talking about Zuko's bodily functions? It's disgusting," Mai complained. "I'd rather just relax. So is Zuko a prince again or what?"

"Yeah, Azula," Ty Lee pushed, "Tell us! What did the Fire Lord say about that, huh?"

Azula shrugged and closed her eyes. She said, casually, "After much discussion, Father said that Zuko was to be welcomed back as a prince, and nothing more. For now, the crown is still going to be mine. Father is sure of that."

That was true, but Azula didn't mention that her father had seemed reluctant. That was unnecessary, and she didn't need Ty Lee cooing over a problem.

Azula folded her arms and turned to rest them against the ledge of the hotspring's pool. She rested her chin on her arms, sprawled across her seat, and Mai let out a discreet yawn, covered by one hand. Ty Lee wasn't so calm – she leapt up from her seat, splashing out of the water, and she said, loudly, "He's such a doofus!"

Mai lifted one arm to stop her hair from getting wet, and she said, "Watch it, Ty Lee."

"Sorry," she apologized, sheepishly, taking her seat again.

"If we hadn't torched and looted all of Ba Sing Se, I'd be hoping we'd go there for a bit of fun," Azula said, "I'm not exactly keen on spending the next few weeks in the snow. I hope you own clothes, Ty Lee."

Ty Lee blinked and asked, curiously, "Where's snow?" Then she paused and said, excitedly, "I've never seen snow! Omigosh, are we going now? Why?!"

"Up North," Mai said, pointedly. "Think about it for a second. The Avatar is dead, so…"

She seemed to take a moment to piece this together, in that ditzy way of hers, holding her chin in one hand and staring off into the distance blankly. Then, her eyes focused, and she launched herself at Azula with a giddy shriek. Azula barely made the effort to move, still comfortable on her hot tub perch, and Ty Lee landed quite on top of her, with her arms around Azula's neck. She pressed her cheek to Azula's and giggled.

"The North Pole! We're going to the North Pole!" she enthused, and Azula reached up to pat Ty Lee on the forearm, the vaguest of smiles gracing her lips. Ty Lee eventually let go, splashing away in the water, to hug Mai.

"I'm afraid it's going to be a challenge for you two," Azula said, and she glanced at her nails. They were translucent in the water. She said, "Knives and pressure points will be a bit difficult with heavy coats in the way."

"I'm sure I can aim at the face," Mai drawled.

"Me, too!" Ty Lee enthused.

"Then it's settled," Azula said, rolling over in the water. She brought a hand back and through her hair, leaving wet streaks, and then let out a relaxed breath. Ty Lee continued to giggle and chatter on.

"So are we going to queue the North Pole, too, all on our own?" Ty Lee asked, hopefully, and Mai mumbled a corrective "coup" in Ty Lee's direction. Ty Lee smiled, and then looked back to Azula, curiously.

"Not this time," Azula said, "I was thinking, for the fall of the last free city, we should smear them into the pages of history like never before. An undercover overthrow won't be needed: we'll bring in armies and armies, every fighter who has a pulse. It'll take a week or two for the forces to get a rendezvous time set up, so we don't have to set out for a while."

"Sounds boring," Mai replied, "So they're going to do all the work for us? How lame."

"Now, Mai," Azula said, calmly, and she smirked, "I'm sure there are more than a few accomplished waterbenders we could destroy."

"That'd be nice, but with my luck I doubt it'll happen," Mai drawled.

"I can't wait!" Ty Lee grinned, and she sank into the water up to her forehead, only to burst up again with another magnificent splash of hot water. Mai grumbled and covered her hair with her arms, and Azula turned her face away, but it did little to protect either from getting soaked to the scalp.



Zuko hadn't been able to sleep.

For hours, he had stared at the canopy on his bed. It didn't move, it just kept the same long shadows creased into the drapes. If he looked closely, he could see that the shapes they formed, twisted across his roof, in the forms of ghosts and devils.

It was eerie, but he didn't want to move from where he was, deep in his blankets and pillows. Despite how he couldn't sleep, he felt too exhausted to move, too. His limbs hurt. His face hurt, the usual ebb he'd felt for three years now. His heart hurt.

Three years, and now he was lying in his bed for the first time since being banished.

He lifted his head when his bedroom door opened, and he squinted at the silhouette in the doorway. It was slender, feminine, and his stomach twisted uncomfortably. She seemed to hesitate at the door, and then she moved from it, coming towards him.

"Azula?" he said, suspiciously, sitting upright. The female slid towards him, and sat down on the edge of the bed. She pressed a kiss to his cheek, and so close, he wasn't concerned. He corrected himself, with a surprised, "Mai."

"I couldn't sleep," she said, and he blew over his shoulder with a haphazard hand gesture, and the candles on his bedposts illuminated with flame immediately. With her face thrown into such relief, and the shadows on his ceiling gone, his stomach stopped doing somersaults in his gut. Mai said, calmly, "Nor could you, it seems."

She had one of those dark, deep feminine voices, the kind that was really easy to listen to. Zuko nodded, and relaxed when she brought an arm around his neck and pushed her lips against his cheek, going out of her way to ensure that she didn't touch any of his scar tissue. That was awkward, and hurtful in some way, despite how much he understood why she wouldn't want to touch it.

She'd seen him scarred, but he got the impression she liked to pretend it never happened. He couldn't deny the idea was nice, but it was a part of him forever.

Back on his throne, back at home, he had been hoping for some magical solution to all his problems. He had been hoping that all his mistakes would be wiped away, all would be atoned for. And although he had known there would be no instant solution, no scar-be-gone and no sacred waters to remove the mark, a part of him had hoped there would be.

"It's strange, being back home," he replied, "I remember everything like the back of my hand, but it all seems so much smaller, even my bed feels smaller."

"It's not smaller, you're just bigger," Mai replied. She held onto him, still, one hand ghosting to his cheek and holding his face to look into her eyes.

"Yeah," Zuko said, despite the obviousness of the statement. He let out a long breath. Mai just gave a funny smile and took his hands.

"Let's go for a walk, then," she said. It wasn't an offer or a suggestion. Even as she said it, she slid off the edge of the bed to be on her feet, and she pulled him towards her. He kicked the blankets off his legs, realizing she very well could drag him right off the edge of the bed if he didn't, and he slid to his feet next to her.

She let go of his hands to grab his robe and she tossed it at him. He pulled it over his shoulders almost grudgingly, closing it at his waist and lashing the sash together to hold it closed over his loose pants.

"Any place in mind?"

"We could just go down to the garden," she said, "there won't be anyone there at this hour."

"Very well," he said, politely. She didn't really wait, once again, and she took his arm and forcibly linked it with hers. Zuko let her lead him off, his other hand drifting to cover the hand rested by the crook of his elbow. Despite her pushiness, she still blushed when he did this.

Off they went, through the winding halls. They drifted by guards and sentries, and Zuko realized that Mai was actually dressed, and not just wearing sleeping robes. That was a small bit of embarrassment, to march around the place as if he owned it while out of formal dress, especially when they had only docked in the Fire nation that morning. It seemed cocky and overbold to assume he was here for more than a night.

When he passed the sentries, one gave a slight grunt of disgust, and the other did the same, albeit more muffled. Zuko stopped and looked at them, sharply, and meant to tell them off for whatever they were snickering over, but Mai pulled him on her way.

"Ignore them," she said, "you aren't very popular, as you could have guessed."

He'd never been terribly popular to begin with, when Azula started taking all the limelight, but now it was even worse. Zuko forced himself to look away from them, and Mai dutifully kept him going towards the gardens.

"I didn't think so," he grumbled, and he caught her eye. She smiled, and then pointed at something. He followed the gesture and his eyes landed on the fountain. "Yes?"

"The fountain," she stated, calmly, "that's where you and I met as little kids."

He didn't really understand what mattered about it, or why she was bringing it up, but he humoured her. He said, "I remember."

She nodded, once and continued, "It's been a long time, hasn't it?"

"Yeah, sure seems like it," Zuko said, "It's been over three years since I've been here... it's just so strange." He felt like a broken record, and Mai didn't seem to appreciate this much. So he said, "I thought he was going to banish me again, Mai. I just couldn't go. But my stomach, ha ha... you'll never believe it."

Mai said, "Azula told us."

Zuko felt himself grow hot in the face and he said, "Uh, yeah."

Mai didn't say anything, again, so Zuko said, "But, well... think of it. Some day, I could be Fire Lord. If Father crowns me as Crown Prince again, that is. If Azula will step down."

"Yeah," Mai said, flatly. "Maybe."

"Yeah," he repeated, "I always thought I'd end up there, but for the longest time, it's seemed hopeless. I don't know, Mai, the more I think about it, the more I realize I don't know anything about running a nation! Or leading a war! I grew up hearing stories but no one bothered to teach me how, it was always Father teaching Azula. When I'm Fire Lord, I don't know what I'll do."

There was a moment of uncomfortable silence, and then Mai brought her hand up to his cheek and straightened his face to look at her better. She asked, "Have you brushed your teeth, since?"

"Er... yeah?" Zuko replied, confused, because at first, he hadn't realized she was talking about the unpleasant business from earlier that day.

And then Mai kissed him. For a moment, he resisted, taken off-guard, and then like any doofus boy, he kissed her right back with much enthusiasm.

But it wasn't really all that great, because his mind flittered elsewhere time and again, over and over and over again, until she dragged him back to his bedroom, sometime around when dawn approached.



Over breakfast, Azula glanced up at him and said, conversationally, "So Uncle disappeared from his cell last night."

Zuko had the good nature to just shrug, say "oh", and go back to his rice.



After a brief encounter with her father, Azula was not in a cheery mood.

"I don't know what we're going to do about Zuko," Azula announced, as she entered the lounge. Ty Lee sat up, appearing over the back of the couch, and Mai barely lifted her head from where she lay on a giant overstuffed pillow on the floor. Ty Lee greeted her perkily, even curiously, and Mai just waved one hand briefly.

That wasn't exactly the reaction she was looking for. Azula repeated, pointedly: "Zuko, Mai."

"What about him?" Mai asked, and this time she did prop herself up on her elbows. Her pale cheeks were stained the slightest of pinks, and Azula took this as a victory.

"Father has demanded that Zuko join us on our expedition to the North Pole. It seems he knows the layout, and the secret ways in, and once Father knew that much, he insisted that Zuko go along," Azula explained. "I don't want him there to screw things up."

"Then we'll use what he knows and otherwise keep him out of the way," Mai suggested.

"I know!" Ty Lee chirped, "We could make him go in first."

"Of course we could," Azula said, "but that would mean having to deal with him, and frankly…"

She trailed off. To give Zuko the credit he was due for expectedly helping her with the coup? Had Zuko never shown up, she might have been overwhelmed by the Avatar and his waterbending friend, but she doubted that. Yet Zuko had made a few things possible, hadn't he?

"Zuko did do his part in the fall of Ba Sing Se," Azula said, grudgingly, "but he very nearly could have screwed up everything for us, particularly with the Avatar. Had he pulled some stupid little stunt, he could have ruined everything we worked for."

"You would have been outnumbered if Zuko hadn't helped you," Mai remarked, far more abrasive than she intended. Azula bristled.

"I had the Dai Li with me," Azula corrected, testily, "even if something had gone wrong, I would have emerged victorious. Do NOT insult me with such suggestions."

"I see," Mai said, calmly, and she glanced down at her book. Azula cocked an eyebrow, and watched Ty Lee's smile curve into a sudden frown, only to burst back into a big smile seconds later. Her eyes widened, settled on something over Azula's shoulder.

So awkwardly, Ty Lee sang out a not-so-friendly, "Heeey…"

Azula turned, to find herself face to face with Zuko. He was holding the door open, and Azula was involuntarily surprised for about a second, and then she shifted back into her usual self. One hand drifted to her hip and she cocked her head, the wicked smirk settling on her lips again.

"Hello," Zuko said, and then, cutting off Azula's reply of "hello", he continued with a curt, "Father sent me to discuss the plans for the North Pole."

"Speak of the devil," Azula said, "Unfortunately, you won't be needed. Go feed the ducks, Zuzu, and let us big girls concern ourselves with the military."

Zuko didn't take this kindly. His eyes widened briefly and his eyebrow lifted. With his hair shaggy in his face, he looked rather wild like this, and Azula took a disgusted step back when he snapped at her. "I don't want to go feed the turtleducks! I want to help with the invasion! Father said I was leading it, and to start planning with you, so here I am."

Azula didn't take this news about Zuko leading it himself too kindly, either. She frowned, in disbelief, and said, "You? Leading?" She gave a snort of laughter and she continued, "Oh please Zuko, you couldn't lead an honourable life, let alone lead thousands of men and women."

"Shut up," Zuko snapped, but there was definitely an element of pleasure to his voice, knowing he had something above her. "I'm the first-born son, it's my duty and birthright, Father said so."

Any amusement Azula was feeling over how pathetic Zuko was, any bit of pleasure, it was all washed away with that one comment. She didn't exactly believe him – after all, their father had never been one to care about duties and birthrights – but that doubt lingered in her mind immediately, like a tall shadow cast clear over her head. She stared at Zuko, silent for a moment, and then she said, calmly, "Did he?"

Zuko nodded, almost triumphantly, and Azula's mind was working too fast for her to reply. Would their father really dare suggest such a thing? For almost a decade, Father had loved her more than Zuko, appreciated her more than Zuko, thought of her as his perfect child and Zuko as his failure of a son. Zuko's banishment and shame had only secured this, and now, Azula was regretting having ever, ever dared to clear Zuko's name and bring him home.

For all upbringing suggested, she was the first born. She was the one working for everything.

"I can kill the Avatar child, now," Zuko said, "That's why I'm leading."

Azula's anger flared, right there, but she didn't let it show. She felt the crackle of fire on her fingers but she couldn't seem to coax it into pure lightning. Zuko's single comment had awakened an angry doubt in her, and she struggled to keep it under control. She dry-swallowed, and then looked at him with cold amber eyes.

"Why would he help you find the new Avatar?" she said.

Zuko said, in one long breath, "Father has welcomed me home, Azula. I'm to be Crown Prince again, as my birthright dictates."

Azula stopped herself from killing him right there, from plunging her power right into his gut and face, from scarring him worse than before. But moreso, she just wanted to express this anger to her father, to demand why he had said such things. Zuko wouldn't have lied – he just wasn't capable of lying, he was poor at it, he wasn't a manipulator or cunning. It just wasn't his nature.

"Excuse me," she said, curtly, and she brushed by him more edgily than she intended. He watched her go, and she didn't look back. As she rounded the corner and headed directly for the throne room, she heard Ty Lee make one last remark at her brother before she was out of earshot entirely.

"Is snow fun to play in?"



"Father," Azula said, her voice almost warm, for that instant. She knelt down, but she kept her back straight and her head up, for a moment. He watched her, carefully, and with a smile she sank into the bow she should have given before she dared speak.

Her palms splayed against the floor, her arms outstretched, she waited, always dutiful. And then, after a moment, she rose herself up, before he commanded her to rise. She had the pleasure of watching his mouth curve down, and his eyebrows dip into a frown.

"Daughter," he said, slowly, "do you find yourself in a hurry today?"

"I do find myself a bit rushed," she said, simply. "Forgive me."

There was no forgiving to be done, and Azula didn't expect it in the first place, specifically because she had ordered him to, not asked him to. His frown worsened, like any father might frown at his favourite child. Azula knew that if Zuko had done the same, he would have been reprimanded.

But Azula wasn't.

"What hurries you, Princess Azula?" Lord Ozai asked, calmly. Azula smiled.

"With the city of Ba Sing Se penetrated and violated, and every other great city fallen into our hands, there is only one opponent left. You decided that Zuko would lead the army, but I would like to remove them myself."

"The Northern Water tribe," Lord Ozai replied, knowingly, "General Zhao failed to ruin them. Other than the Fire nation, they remain the last pillar of strength for the barbarians, and they hide the new Avatar. Zuko has offered to lead the invasion, and I have decided that it is appropriate that he lead, to prove his honour to me. And what do you expect to do about that, daughter?"

"Dear father," Azula said, and she sat taller. She said, "I'm afraid I have two options before me."

"Go on."

"Simply," Azula said, "I could launch an invasion before Zuko's and send them to their knees, and then finish them off when the time comes. The North Pole would be a barren wasteland of cold, with no people, Zuko's command or not."

Lord Ozai nodded, slowly, and then he said, "And the other option?"

"I'm afraid it may not cater to your liking, father," Azula said, almost apologetic, but at the same time, her voice took a slightly vicious edge. It was like sarcasm, but not quite so vicious. She paused, long and hard, and when he bade her to explain anyway, she said, "Someone else could lead an invasion, which would result in failure, and shame on the Fire nation. It would leave the barbarians with hope. It would result in wasted time, wasted finances, and wasted effort."

Lord Ozai didn't reply for a moment, and then he said, "Are you implying not one of my Generals could bring the North Pole to its knees, let alone my son?"

There was no measure for how she wished her father would say daughter the way he said son.

"Quite frankly, I am," Azula said, casually, "does it not speak volumes of your military if your teenaged daughter can topple mountains, while your older and longer trained Generals struggle to scale small hills? We've always known I am a prodigy, but stupidity and cowardice in your Generals is never a good thing. And, on top of it all: I lied when I said Zuko was strong, before. He's still as malleable as he ever was, still easy to destroy."

Her father's next breath came almost angrily, and he said, "You toe the line boldly, daughter."

"And for a just reason, father," Azula said, and she rose to her feet, standing tall and prompting Lord Ozai to stand up, too. His face contorted in anger when she continued, "An army's success reflects on its leader. Surely, you understand that by now?"

"Ba Sing Se fell under my rule," Lord Ozai said, loftily, "and no child of mine will call me a failed leader. Get out of my sight before I give you a reason to cry."

"Ba Sing Se fell because I told it to," Azula replied. "Omashu, as well. Your armies were doing nothing useful until I stepped in and corrected them. Certainly, to be a respectful Fire Lord, one has to make intelligent decisions."

"Get out of my sight," Lord Ozai hissed, "before I remove that traitorous mouth."

"Only if I can remove yours," Azula replied, deftly, and she began walking forward. She gave a hard breath, preparing herself, and she felt the heat in her double. Her fingers sparked, and she said, before he could reply, "What will you do, father? Mark my face as I prostrate myself before you, loyal and pathetic like a dog?"

"How dare you!"

"How dare I," Azula agreed, "I have enjoyed this privilege."

With that, she turned on her heel and walked out, with her chin high. She waited to hear the call to stop, or the call to be banished, or marked, or the call for an Agni Kai, but when it didn't come, she smirked to herself and kept going.

Now was not the time.



Zuko couldn't sleep.

At the time, he had felt on top of the world, getting to lord his birthright over his younger sister, for the first time in his life. Since he was a child, he had been told it was his birthright, and he had always hoped it would come true, but with Azula there, it had always brought him nothing but anguish and doubt. Zuko didn't know right from wrong here, anymore, and when his father had told him he was going to be his successor after all, Zuko was filled with an unstoppable joy.

He had been able to rub it in Azula's face, and he had relished the anger on her.

"I'm going to be Fire Lord," he told himself, rolling over so he was almost speaking against his pillow. He dragged the covers higher over his shoulders, so they fell over his neck and threatened to smother him, but he didn't care.

As a small child, he had always believed that any part of him sticking out from under the blankets was susceptible to monster attacks, so he had always relied on his bed's blankets as comfort. Now, though, at eighteen, he was considering the same thing. He was too hot under the blankets, but he didn't dare push them off, as he knew there was a demon around.

She was lingering by the door, in fact, with her arms folded and her shoulder against the doorframe. She said nothing, so he didn't either. She just watched him, cold and calm.

It was that same expressionless anger he had felt when she had returned from their father's throne room. It was that same quiet determination, as if she had been slighted but had mostly corrected the issue. Their father hadn't revoked his plan to make Zuko his heir, and Azula no longer seemed angry about it. Zuko wondered, vaguely, if their father knew how to control Azula, to comfort her and make her understand why she couldn't succeed him.

Zuko didn't want to know. He feared that answer, loathed it, and just didn't want to know. But Azula's eyes on him were vicious and dangerous, cold and calculating, and even then, in his bed, he felt trapped. He felt as though if he moved, he would have his limbs torn away and he'd be dragged under the bed like a rag doll.

Azula had such terrible claws, anyway.

She no longer seemed to be angry over losing the title of Crown Princess, but Zuko still felt the danger on her breath. When she had returned from the throne room, she had done nothing else to him but invite him to plot with her for the North Pole, but he had felt her eyes boring holes into him, he had felt that distinct smugness about her, as if she knew much more than he did, as if it was a secret that his life depended on. She had said, offhandedly, "When's the coronation?" but she hadn't inquired further. It was quite obvious she already knew, so he couldn't be sure of why she was doing it.

Zuko squeezed his eyes shut, tucking his chin down so the blankets came up to his disfigured ear, and Azula shifted in the doorway, like a bored cat waiting for its prey to surface. Zuko didn't dare more move. Azula stood up straight, taking her shoulder off its rest, and she stared at him with some sort of know-it-all smile.

He wondered if she had a knife slipped between her sleeve and her skin, or tucked into the folds of her sash. He wondered if, the moment he fell asleep, he'd wake up again to find himself bleeding out, but no one would know it, because the blood would be barely visible on those dark crimson sheets. He didn't know if Azula was capable of doing something like that.

He knew she was physically capable, but he wanted to know if she would.

Sometime around four in the morning, Azula disappeared from her spot by the door, and Zuko waited for some time before he dared go to sleep. When he woke up sometime around five, she was back, but he thought his eyes were playing tricks on him: for a moment, in his sleepy stupor, he had believed that his mother was there, watching over him. Exhausted, he didn't fret over it.

Needless to say, Zuko went back to sleep comfortably.



Zuko may have slept well, but he awoke to a different Azula. Not a better one, not an honest and caring one, but a woman scorned. He sat down to breakfast on his own, having woken far too early, and he hadn't been there for more than a minute when Azula's voice rang out, "Dismissed. Wait outside, I'll send for you when I'm finished."

The servants scattered, and Zuko didn't dare turn around. He just ground his fingers against his armrest and braced himself.

"You seem so conflicted, brother," Azula said, passively, as if it were nothing. Zuko had been ready for some sort of conversation like this, and every time she walked into the same room as him from now on, he would be on his guard. His shoulders would straighten, he would grow bold and demanding, and Azula would drive his challenge.

"I'm not conflicted," Zuko said. He didn't look up from his seat, because he could feel her standing right behind his seat. As if to solidify his feelings, he stated, "I know my destiny and I'm taking it."

"Are you?" Azula drawled, "It didn't look like that to me."

Zuko felt a knot of fear twist in his stomach, and he said, rashly, "I don't know what you're talking about."

"I saw you in the garden with Mai last week," Azula said, casually. She rounded the seat and placed one hand on the armrest, her hand pale against the velvet upholstery. Zuko tightened his jaw and she smiled, her vicious nails grazing the fabric slowly.

"So?"

"I figured you'd want to talk with me about being Fire Lord, now that it's actually going to happen," she said. The faux-sweetness on her voice was revolting, positively revolting, and the knot in his stomach wrenched. He closed his eyes to concentrate.

"Not really."

She shifted again, her hand following the contour of the seat up the back of it, so her clawed hand rested right behind his neck. Her hip moved towards him, and she perched herself on the armrest not unlike a temptress, albeit one who had more to do with words and bloodletting than anything. Her back arched. She leant over him, and he kept his face forward. He refused to look at her, but he did move his arm from her way. She folded one leg over the other.

"When Father dies, you'll be Fire Lord," she said, silkily, "and then what will you do? You've never been one to sit in war rooms and make intelligent decisions. What will possibly be done about the war, if Sozin's comet doesn't end it before then?"

Zuko was silent for a moment, feeling the burn, and then he said, "I'm sure I can find someone to aid me. Someone with military prowess, someone worthy of the title of General."

Azula seemed to wait, but he didn't give it to her. No, Zuko would rather have her dead or harmless. Not a single thing could pressure him into giving her what she wanted, not when he was finally in a position of power.

But the more power he gained in the Fire nation, again, the more she seemed to pressure him. The more her demands increased, the more bullying she did. He didn't quite know what to make of tomorrow, because of this. He'd be the Crown Prince by tomorrow, stealing away her precious title from her, and surely, it wouldn't remain a game of petty insults.

Azula was dangerous and looming.

"Can you?" she said.

"Yes," he replied.

She leaned, so that her hand slid around the back of the chair, and her arm was nearly around his shoulders. Her lips were inches from his ear this way, slick with poison, and she said, calmly, "I know what hesitation lurks in your mind, Zuko."

"I don't have any hesitation," he said, curtly. He abandoned his attempt to stay calm, to stay relaxed, and he leant right out of her hold and turned his head to face her. Everything about her flawless features said that she was a thing to be reckoned with, and she took his lie with considerable grace.

"You don't?"

"No," he insisted.

"Oh, Zuko," she said, her voice rising from its calmness into something higher, something that didn't even attempt to mask its own viciousness. She said, "You'll be Crown Prince by sundown and I'll go back to being merely Princess, and you'll take all the first-born power from my second-hands. Why do you fear me, with such power in your grip?"

It was a valid question. Zuko stared at her, afraid his eyes were betraying him and showing fear, and then he realized that he was, in all actuality, nearly to the point of shaking. She pushed forward, and he leant back, but when he opened his mouth to reply, she sat back and slid from her seat on his armrest.

"Don't fret, brother," Azula said, smoothly. "You've won your place fairly. Of course I won't interfere with what father has commanded. I am, after all, his loyal daughter. I'd never betray him."

Zuko wasn't so sure, but he couldn't speak. She had silenced him, somehow, and she gave him one last smile and a delicate "tch", and then turned and walked away, her hand slipping from the backrest with the sound of scratching nails on fabric.

He shook, and the old mantra returned to him.

Azula always lies. Azula always lies.

With that he turned and looked at her, terrified, and he called "What are you planning?"

"Things that go over your head, brother. Trust me, agony's better than misery, you'll be much happier in the long run."

"I..." Zuko trailed, and Azula's lips parted slightly, baring the slightest sliver of teeth, in a victorious smirk. There was his stumble, his dying plunge to the death of opportunity. He figured that, as far as Azula was concerned, not even a miracle could save him, the instant he faltered like that. Zuko said, so confused and perhaps even full of dread, "I don't understand."

"That's quite alright," Azula said, blinking slowly, like a cat. "You will when the lights go out."

"The lights in the palace?" Zuko said, rapidly. His good eye widened, and the scarred one only shuddered open a notch wider. Azula only watched him, and Zuko said, "What do you mean? Which lights? What lights?"

"It means," Azula said, and she paused, just to make sure he was paying close attention. Zuko took a breath and leant forward, almost subconsciously, and she said, "you'll thank me later."



She meandered up to the guards, and smiled at them. She folded her hands in front of her, clutching two bottles of drink. When the guards gave her a wary look, she held them up like white flags.

"Dismissed," she said, smoothly, "go enjoy a drink or two."

The guards exchanged a look, and one of them said, "Princess Azula, my sincerest apologies, but we are ordered not to move as long as your father is sleeping within."

Her eyebrows sloped, though she had seen this as a possible roadblock, she hadn't expected it to actually happen. Her eyes shifted between the two guards, and she said, "Ah, I remember you. Do you still know how to breathe fire? Such a rare talent, so difficult to learn – in fact, I think I wish to see it again. If you won't show me again, you'll be sorry you ever disagreed."

She said it smoothly, almost in a purr, and the guards exchanged glances again. The one she addressed, with his roughly scarred mouth, looked terrified, and he brought a hand up to his gravelly, jagged chin as if to protect it from her acidic stare.

"No?" Azula prompted, and the guard shook his head. Azula said, "Well, then. I suppose it's easy to forget how, isn't it? I could remind you."

The guard squirmed, and then he stood up straight. It was if he had remembered his courage, suddenly, even in the face of such a formidable predator, and he straightened his shoulders and his mouth. He said, firmly, "No, Princess Azula. Go to bed, child."

Child. It came out unsavoury, and it was bitter on Azula's ears.

"Child?" she repeated, slowly.

"My apologies," the guard said, "I'm only doing what I was ordered to, by your honourable father, Fire Lord Ozai."

"Honourable father," Azula repeated, and then she said, "You address him with such servitude, such humility. Do you ever get tired of worshipping him like a god?"

There didn't seem to be a reply to that that wasn't worth saying while prostrate on one's belly. Azula savoured their moment, their moment of fear and confusion and worry, and then she offered the drinks.

"Now," she said, darkly, "You will move aside, you will grant me passage, and you will drink what I've given you."

The scarred guard didn't move, but the other one nervously reached forward and took a bottle. He glanced at the scarred guard, apologetically, obviously to the point of sheer terror. Azula decided that, under her rule, she wouldn't employ cowards.

"Well?" she said, to the other guard, and then added, "Take it."

"No, Princess," he said, and his voice wavered.

"Pardon, I didn't hear you," Azula said. She had heard him perfectly fine.

"No," he said, louder, and her eyes narrowed.

"No?" she said, giving him one last chance, even though she had already made her choice on the first answer. He shook his head, firmly.

"No!" he said.

He was the blade of dried grass standing between the hunter and the hunted. He burned like dry grass, too, quickly and without much smoke at all. He didn't shriek or scream, because Azula zapped him right in the chest with one carefully placed strike, and he fell down, dead.

The remaining guard let out a strangled gasp, and Azula glanced at the extra bottle in her hand for a second, and then she offered it to him.

"I trust we won't have any interferences in the Royal business?" she said, smiling, and the guard just stared.

After a moment, he nodded regretfully, and struggled with tears. As Azula pushed open the door to her father's room, he fell to his knees at his dead friend's side, and quietly wept.

Azula didn't care, she had destiny to attend to.



Azula had known, for a long time, that she matched her father quite well in skill, if she didn't surpass him. While Ozai was no elderly man, he still lacked Azula's youth and flexibility, something that had faded while he spent long years letting his bones grow creaky on the seat of his throne.

And here, in his bed, wrapped up in the finest fabrics in the world, he was nothing but a sleeping old man. Azula stood at the foot of his bed, for a moment, feeling very much a part of her own world already. Her fingertips ghosted over the edge of the bed, and she quite clearly recalled being chastised by her mother, on her mother's last night.

She wondered, vaguely, if she'd get to do the same with her father.

She smiled, a rare smile that showed teeth. She waited, and decided to wake him up, and give him a final lesson in parenthood, and one last history lesson. So she perched herself on the foot of his bed and pinched his foot through the blankets.

He awoke slowly, groggily, and before he could really orientate himself, Azula said, calmly, "Did you really love Mother, or was it just a marriage of convenience? Because I told her something, before she disappeared, right in this very room."

Lord Ozai pushed himself to sit up, and he said, "How dare you wake me so?"

Azula ignored him and she said, "I'll do anything for our Nation, you know that, don't you, Father? Otherwise, why would I push myself so hard, every day? After all, I just want us to live up to the perfection we should be exhibiting."

"If you intended to beg to be Crown Princess again, you ought to be on your knees, you stupid girl," her father said. Azula wondered, vaguely, how Zuko had managed to topple her from being beloved to being the unwanted child within days. The fairer sex was certainly discriminated against, even in this fair nation.

Azula said, "I have no intention of kneeling."

"Then you best leave before you and your brother have things in common other than being my children," Lord Ozai said.

This was the last chance that Azula had, to back out of this plan, and she could no sooner take it than she could bow to anyone below her. She drew herself to sit up straight, and she said, as if he'd never offered anything, "You never did learn to bend lightening, did you?"

And when she plunged a dagger of lightening right into his chest, striking him dead after minimal thrashing. Nothing went wrong, there was no blood, but there certainly was an ugly mark on his pallid chest. It looked like a single burn, with a raised center, but spreading from it were feathery red marks, like ferns imprinted on the skin, where the smaller blood veins carried electrical current and burst. Arborescent in nature, absolutely beautiful, and yet the old man was dead. Those marks would fade within hours, leaving him with only the entry and exit points. That was fine with her.

As she turned to leave, she glanced back at him once, and she realized, quite suddenly, that he looked as if he were asleep. A smile ghosted over her lips, and she walked to his side, laying his slumped body down more naturally, and she pulled the covers up to his throat. She closed his eyelids, and surveyed his body carefully.

After a second thought, she pressed a kiss to his forehead, and as she left, she said to herself, quite calmly, "How easy it is, then."