The throne was too large for Azula. It was nearly a yard across, and plated with gold. When she was a child, and the rest of her family still lived in the palace with her, she would sneak out of her room at night, and sit there. It would be cold, and the room would be dark. She'd only be able to find it when the moon shone right, and the shadows from outside moved in a certain way. None of these things deterred her though, and when she was restless, or anxious, she'd find her way to the throne, and sit in it until she fell asleep. She'd wake up and find herself back in bed, tucked in.
Her mother laughed. "You silly girl. You fell asleep up there, and not in your bed!"
"Why did you move me?" She had wailed. "Why did you move me?"
Now, the throne was still distinctly too big for her. Strictly speaking, it was too big for her father too, but he filled it better. Azula was still petite, and even with all of the royal court in the room, it still seemed empty, and she still felt isolated.
"Your majesty," General Zhao approached her. He was her father's most trusted contemporary, in the War of the Kingdoms and in the four years since then. "The search for your brother has turned up nothing. We've issued a warrant for his arrest."
"Is abdicating illegal?" Azula asked, innocently.
"No," Zhao shook his head. "For poisoning your father."
Azula sneered. "Zuko wasn't brave enough to be a king, let alone poison one. He left over a week before father died. Looking for him is a waste of time."
"But he's next in-"
"Are you saying that traitor who left his family has more right to the throne than the person who was the last one with Fire Lord Ozai?" Azula slammed her fist down on the armrest of the throne, amplifying her anger through her bones.
Zhao paused. "It's just customary practice for the fir-"
"Was my father first born?"
"No, your majesty, he was not."
"And who do you think was more fit to be king? Him, or that fat, sniffling tea bag of an uncle of mine?"
"Naturally, your father." Zhao's reply was quick.
"So, for my first law, I decree," Azula began. "That birth order will no longer be a deciding factor in who is Fire Lord."
"Princess, I'm afraid you don't have the power to make laws…"
"Princess?" Her eyes narrowed, and fists tightened.
Zhao exhaled, and nervously scanned the room, looking for support from the other members of the royal court, all of whom decided to maintain their distance while Zhao delivered the news. "The royal court hasn't decided who is going to be the next Fire Lord."
Azula said nothing, but the air felt warmer.
"The royal court must weigh our options, take into consideration the current state of the Fire Nation, of our colonies, and what the public will think of-"
"How long will it take to make this decision?" Azula asked abruptly.
"It took three months to decide whether Iroh or Ozai would succeed Azulon."
"And what is to come of the kingdom in the interim?"
"The royal court and I will see to it."
"Very well," Azula shooed them away with her hand. "Waste no time in this pertinent decision, and promptly inform me of your choice. I wish to mourn for my father in the room he loved the most."
The royal court cleared out quickly, and Mai and Ty Lee approached Azula.
"Do you want us to leave too?" Ty Lee asked.
Azula looked down. "Mai, your father is a member of the royal court, correct?"
"Yes."
"I need your help." She turned her gaze to her. "You need to let me know what they're talking about, what they're taking into consideration, what concerns they have-"
"And how unfit anyone else would be?" Mai finished for her and smiled.
Azula sighed peacefully, and let her face fall into her hands. "How can I expect them to take care of my kingdom when they have doubts about me ruling it? They're buffoons!"
"No one else has a better claim than you, Azula," Ty Lee kneeled down and put her hand on Azula's knee. "There's surely people in the royal court who knew your father always wanted you to succeed him."
"He'd only shared that with me." Azula bitterly said. "And there's never been a woman Fire Lord,"
"You can be the first." Mai said.
"What the hell am I supposed to do while they decide?"
"Prove you're right for the throne!" Ty Lee encouraged. "You can study laws, you can propose new courses of action, you can-"
"Or you can rub elbows with the royal court until they see how stupid this is." Mai sighed. "I know flattery's not your thing, but that's what works in these circles."
"I suppose I could." Azula admitted, before sitting up in the throne and slouching over in it, covering her face with her hands. "They can never see me like this, doubting myself like this."
"Well, they'll never have to." Mai said. "We'll keep your secret safe."
Azula abruptly stood up, and began walking out of the room, quickly joined on either side by her confidants. "I'm going to my room." She announced.
"Then I'll go see my father," Mai added.
"And I'll-" Ty Lee began, but was cut off when Azula grabbed her hand wordlessly. "I'll follow you, Azula."
In the month since Zuko came to Ba Sing Se, he kept the name he took on the ship. Li, and his uncle Poh, were refugees from the Fire Nation; farmers who fled after being drafted to join the army, to defend a king they no longer believed in. Li followed his uncle, after being orphaned at the age of nine. Li was never a fire bender, nor had he studied swords, nor had Poh ever even joined the army, but they both knew about tea.
Zuko wasn't content with tea, and neither was Li really, but both Iroh and Poh were over the moon with it. Zuko realized his was his uncle's dream, not conquests, and blood baths, and foreign lands he'd never seen becoming his. Iroh's dream was always to make people happy.
"I never thought I could repent for my crimes as a prince," He told Zuko the first week he was there. "I thought I had brought so much pain, to so many people, my fate would eternally be an unhappy one. This thought made me hopeless, particularly after Lu Ten died."
Zuko could only look into his teacup at this point, and avoid eye contact with his uncle.
"I did consider taking my life, but I thought: how would that fix anything? How would me being dead help those who I had hurt? They would still carry those wounds, and you would have more. Nephew, if it weren't for you, I would have drowned myself in the Red Sea. But, the Fire Sages had different plans for me. I travelled for months, and lost quite a bit of weight, though you wouldn't be able to tell that now, would you?" He laughed, in spite of the story. "And found myself in Ba Sing Se. I thought it was only appropriate to stay and mourn for my son in the city of his passing, the city that he died for, that my brother would not even name for him. As painful as it was, I decided this was the place to heal my heart. Naturally, I was drawn to the tea market. I was never one for spirits, or wars, or anger, like my brother; but I've always found comfort in foods and teas."
He smiled for the first time in his story. "I made people smile when I brought them tea, and now instead of making people sad, I make them happy. They forget about their sorrows and stresses, if only for a few seconds. That's all I can do to reclaim my place in the Heavens. And now, I have my second son with me."
Zuko wanted to lay down and sleep in the words "my second son," but instead just looked at his uncle and smiled with his eyes.
"Now, tell me, nephew, what brings you to Ba Sing Se?"
He looked back to his tea. "I'm not sure, Uncle."
Uncle didn't say anything, but his expression showed understanding.
"I can't stand living with my father, and Azula. I stayed with my sword trainer for a year after you left, and then the Ember Islands for months. All I did was study, and train, and dread going back to the palace. I stayed for a week with them before I decided to leave. I—" Zuko felt his face contorting, in both fear and disgust.
"You don't need to tell me the horrors of living with Ozai." Zuko would not meet his gaze, but felt his uncle's. "We can talk more when you're ready. But, Ba Sing Se is a city of new beginnings."
Beginnings were slow. Nobody remembers learning how to walk, how to speak, or how to read, but Zuko had to learn to be a new person, and it was a painful metamorphosis. He had to change his mannerisms from cold and regal, to friendly and casual to better sell teas; he had to wear his hair down to hide his scar – not terribly successfully but the effort was there. He had to make small talk with customers about their day, and not scream at them when they dared to insult his uncle's tea. The change was strange, and even a little stressful, but he felt comfortable here with his uncle. His nights sleeping on a cot were more restful than any night he'd ever slept on his bed at the palace, and he had more pride in himself serving tea than he had as a prince.
In the Fire Nation Academy, Zuko had been taught the people of his nation were tenacious, and powerful warriors. But all Zuko had seen from his encounters with generals, viziers, and kings he'd met, was cruelty.
Every morning, the whole school would sing a song of dedication to the powerful, merciful and wise Fire Lord. Zuko would only mouth the words. Real stories of the war, real stories of the king, were never told in the walls of the Fire Nation Academy. No one knew how prisoners of war were made to work in the mines underground until they died of starvation or exhaustion, or that less than ten percent of the crops grown in the Earth Kingdom stayed there. Even tales of his father's conquests were romanticized, with stories of him letting women and children go as long as they swore allegiance to the Fire Nation. They would never hear about the women whose skin was burned off, after they had been raped by soldiers, so no half Fire Nation children would be born. Nor, about how colonists who refused to kneel before Ozai had their legs amputated at the knee.
And no one ever questioned what happened to their queen. She'd only disappeared in the night. For a week, candles were lit in her honor, and no one spoke a word to Zuko or Azula. But by the following Monday, it was back to the hymn of allegiance and the tale of the "peaceful" conquest of the Eastern Earth Kingdom.
The people of the Earth Kingdom took no joy in others pain, or shame in their poverty. Many poor farmers and laborers would spend their last pennies on a drink for their friends, a toy for their child, or a barrette for their wife. Though his blood was warm with the fire of his family, Zuko felt his heart was earthen.
He'd set a cup down at a table, around an hour after sunset on a Tuesday, when Uncle had told him a customer was here to see him. Zuko turned around, perplexed, and even more so when he was met with a strange face – almost perfectly round, with short brown hair and two red marks underneath the eyes.
"Are you Li?"
"Ye-yeah, do you want some tea?" Zuko stuttered.
"Not really, no. I was sent here by Jet."
"Who's that?"
"He's my boss, and my friend. You were offered a job by him when you got off the boat."
Zuko half closed his eyes, and thought back.
"He wants to know if you'd like to meet with him."
"Why does he want to meet with me?"
"He figured you'd ask that. His offer still stands."
"You can tell him that I'm content with my job here."
The round face staring at him sucked their lips inward, and exhaled.
"I never got your name."
"It's Smellerbee."
"Oh," Zuko didn't mean to show he was surprised, but couldn't help it.
"That's not my real name."
"I—uh sorry." He had almost said, "I figured" but fortunately had stopped himself. "Would you like some tea, Smellerbee?"
"No thanks." Smellerbee stood up, and pushed in their chair. "I've got to be going anyway."
Zuko frowned, but didn't oppose. "Well, come again,"
Smellerbee started to walk away, before Zuko thought of something.
"Wait!" He put down the tea and held up his arm. Smellerbee said nothing, but turned around. Zuko looked around. "Can we talk outside?"
Smellerbee just smiled.
"What exactly does Jet want me to do?" Zuko asked once outside. His blood pounded inside his head, like he had a fever. Jet had mentioned his scar, his marking scar, what made him Fire Prince Zuko. "Like, what is this job? And why does he want me, and none of the other people in Ba Sing Se? There's several thousands of us here. Why not that guy? Why me?"
Smellerbee turned around. "I'll tell Jet to be in touch."
"I don't want that! I want to know what the hell he wants!" But Smellerbee was already walking away.
Zuko exhaled, and decided to ask Uncle about it later. They both served tea until two hours before midnight, when the Jade Dragon closed, and as they cleaned up, he brought up the question. "Uncle, have you heard of anybody named Jet?"
"No, nephew. Why do you ask?" He replied, cleaning off a table with a damp cloth.
"He asked me if I wanted a job when I got here, and just asked me again."
"I didn't realize you were that employable." His uncle mused.
"Yeah, but why me?"
"You have quite a distinguished look, and have become quite successful here. Maybe you can make more money with him. Who knows?"
"I don't feel good about this."
"Neither did I when I first came to Ba Sing Se. Give it time, and explore all your opportunities here, nephew."
"Uncle, I'm-"
"Let me ask you a question first, nephew." He picked up his cloth, and dishes off a newly cleaned table. "Do you have any friends in Ba Sing Se?"
"Yeah, yo—"
"Not me,"
Zuko said nothing.
"I was nervous trusting people in the city myself as well, nephew. Please believe me. I was certain everybody knew that I was a former soldier, someone who had once fought against this city. But, if I hadn't, I would never met the man who sold me this building, I'd have never started working for a tea house, and I'd have never met people who loved my tea as much as I did."
Zuko looked up at his uncle, smiling with half his mouth.
Uncle put his arm around him, and they walked upstairs, towards their apartment. "Be daring, my nephew. The blood of a king runs in you, and you must be willing to try new things."
He exhaled, and smiled, fully this time. "You always give me good advice, Uncle."
"And if it doesn't work out, you can still sell tea with me."
They walked upstairs, together, to clean their dishes, wash their faces, and have a cup of lavender tea before bed.
Ty Lee had been exposed to things like this in the circus before. Men would grab her by the waist after shows, whisper lewd things in her ear, and make her feel slimy inside. So, when Azula came up to her, and said a freak show was never really the place for her, and she should be at the palace with her, Ty Lee agreed. She'd felt joy performing at the circus, but afterwards, felt dirty and small, and trapped under a big cloth tent with animals and filth and people with extra/missing appendages.
She'd always wanted a way to thank Azula. Though she'd never be royal, she could at least pretend with her.
Azula was always hot - as in physically warmer than anybody else Ty Lee had ever touched. When Azula cried into her shoulder, it felt boiling water spilling out of a cup of tea, and when she held hands, Ty Lee's would begin to sweat uncontrollably.
"Are you nervous?" Azula had asked. It was the first time this happened, many months ago. It took Ty Lee a week to travel from the circus, which was at the time, on the furthest island of the Fire Nation, and Azula was anxious to see her.
"No, your hand is just really hot." Ty Lee replied, with a concerned voice.
"Yeah, they're like that…" Azula blushed.
"I'll get used to it." Ty Lee had said.
Azula lifted her head up off Ty Lee's stomach and took her hair down from the bun it was tied in daily. "Ty Lee, what the hell am I going to do?" She got up, put on a robe, and sat down at her vanity.
"What can you do? You kind of just have to wait." Ty Lee suggested, rolling over.
"I can't just wait!" Azula said tensely. Her palms were open, gripping either side of her vanity, and the room began to smell vaguely of burning wood. "What if the idiots in the Earth Kingdom decide they can rule themselves? Or my brother comes back and decides he wants to be king? Or there's a terrible harvest and there's no food, and these bearded, overgrown children in the royal court expect me to-"
"I think you're overthinking it, Azula." Ty Lee got up, and put her arms around Azula's neck, noticing the steam coming off her hands speeding up, and then slowing down. "That didn't happen when they decided your father would be king."
"But then, there was a war. Father was busy fighting, and proving that he was strong, and noble, and worthy. There's no war for me to fight, and no light under their asses to speed up naming an heir."
"Then why don't you do what your father did?"
"I can't do what my father did." She cried, angrily. "If I tried to do what my father did, without a war, I'd just be a mad queen."
"I don't think you should start a war, or kill people," Ty Lee continued. "I think you should be proving yourself to be the queen you are. Not a mad one, but a powerful, knowledgeable one."
Azula smiled, out of one corner of her mouth. "How so?" She brought a hand up to touch Ty Lee's arm still around her neck.
"Ouch," Ty Lee said, wincing when the hot skin of Azula's hand touched hers.
"Sorry," Azula quickly replied, but her hand didn't get any cooler.
"Why don't you travel across your kingdom?"
"I've seen all of the islands."
"You're queen of more than islands." Ty Lee whispered in her ear. Azula's skin cooled, to barely that of a person with a fever. "How can a kingdom love a queen they've never seen? You've got to go out there, talk to your people, and get them on your side. No royal court can argue with all the colonies."
Often Azula felt like her insides were an inferno, a hot madness that could never be contained, and to her, Ty Lee felt like an ocean. Azula was a burning vent at the bottom of the sea, and Ty Lee washed over her, and eventually, they'd form islands and kingdoms and trees and flowers; but for now, all Ty Lee had to do was calm her enough to keep her from burning up. Azula rolled her head back, hair falling down over Ty Lee's arm, and exhaled through her nose
Ty Lee asked, "Have you ever been to Ba Sing Se?"
Jet came to the Jade Dragon on Thursday, several hours after the sun had set. His hair was longer than Zuko had remembered, and as he came in the big open doors, he put out his cigarette.
"Li," He greeted, and smiled, putting his hand in the air in a familiar gesture.
"Hey," Zuko returned the greeting unenthusiastically. "How'd you find me?"
Jet smiled, one without teeth, and put his hand up over his eye.
Zuko said nothing.
"I heard you had some questions for me."
"And you had some for me, as well."
"You first."
"Would you like some tea?"
Jet laughed, and Zuko was taken aback. "Actually, I love tea. Oolong."
"Jasmine, fruit, or nut oolong?"
"Surprise me." Jet said, pulling up a seat, and sitting in it.
Zuko joined him several minutes later, with two cups of hot tea. "Grape is naturally sweet. It doesn't need honey, or milk." He said.
"I always take my tea black." Jet nodded, sipping his tea loudly, unashamed. "Anything else dilutes it."
"A young man after my heart!" Uncle exclaimed, patting Jet on the back. Such an action would make Zuko spill tea all over himself, but Jet was graceful and kept his back straight. "You must be,"
"Jet," The three all spoke at once, and Jet's face was proud.
"You have much to teach my nephew about tea."
"And you must be the famous Poh." Jet introduced himself, putting down his tea, in order to shake Uncle's hand, and bow his head, and only his head.
"Hardly famous, but Poh I am indeed." Uncle reciprocated Jet's actions.
"Does your nephew work for you?" Jet wasted no time.
"Yes, but he's young enough to start a career anywhere."
"I'd like him to work at my shop."
"I'd like to see your shop." Zuko said, emphasizing the word shop with a questioning tone.
"That's exactly what I wanted to invite you to do."
"Go ahead, nephew." Uncle smiled, and placed a hand on Zuko's shoulder. "I'll stay and hold down the place."
Zuko turned his gaze to his uncle, then to Jet. "Can you excuse us for a moment?"
Jet didn't respond, but just nodded and stood up. "I'll meet you outside then."
"Uncle, what if this is dangerous? How do I know if I can trust him?" Zuko asked, in a hushed tone.
"Are you telling me you lived with a sword master almost a year and you can't defend yourself against some long haired street kid? Maybe you can get some money and we can buy a bigger place."
Zuko's eyes narrowed.
"Or something you want, or whatever. Just don't forget about your old Uncle. Now go, nephew. You can take care of yourself. Nothing in this city is worse than what happened in that palace."
Zuko sighed. "I guess I'll see you tonight."
Uncle smiled at him, and they parted wordlessly.
Jet had already started smoking when returned.
"You've got an hour." Zuko said.
"Should be plenty." When Jet smiled, it made Zuko feel like he was more confident than Zuko would ever be. "Tell me about yourself Li."
They started walking, and Zuko gave his usual story. "I was orphaned when I was nine. My uncle took me in, and his son was drafted. After his son was killed, he was drafted, so we left. Him first, to set up, then me two years later. I lived with a friend until then." He told it with familiar staged sorrow and joy, putting in parts of his own soul in where they fit in.
"You don't have to tell me, but what happened to your parents?"
Zuko didn't respond. No one had asked him before.
"Mine were killed by the Fire Nation. We were farmers outside of Ba Sing Se. Before the war ended, a man with dark hair that grew around his face rode in on a horse, and burned our crops with his hands. My father went outside, and my mother stayed with me and my sister. The man demanded my father surrender whatever food he had to the army, and he refused. The man got off his horse, and repeated the offer. My father refused again, and the man hurled him into the burning field. My father ran out, with his clothes and flesh on fire. We could smell him burning. The commander knocked down our door, and at least ten other men stormed inside. While the soldiers ate our food, he with the hair around his face found us. My mother sobbed and begged for our lives, saying to take her instead and to let her children live. That general grabbed her by the hair, and threw her to his men saying, 'you heard the bitch. Take her.' We never saw her again, but I'll never forget how I heard her sob. My sister and I were bound and taken hostage. We were told we'd work in the mines until we burned like the trash we were. The smoke from all the fires they set gave my sister black lung, and she died in a week."
Zuko couldn't meet his eye. The commander he'd described was Zhao, and had been his Godfather. "How did you escape?"
"The commander stayed in Ba Sing Se, and while his men got drunk, I snuck out. I changed my name and stayed here."
"My father was a soldier who'd gone rogue, or mad from the war. We never knew. He was tired of fighting for a king he hated, and was killed. He was a hateful man, and loved war, but wanted the power for himself." Zuko imagined his uncle and father as the same man, two sides of a coin, brothers becoming one. "My mother was ill."
"Who gave you the scar?"
"My father." He told the truth.
Jet wasn't shocked, but pressed. "How old were you?"
"Nine." Again, he told the truth.
"Even though he's gone, my father was always kind. I'm sorry."
"I am too."
They finally made eye contact, and Zuko's breath caught in his throat.
"Apologies don't make a big difference." Jet put out his cigarette. "All we can do now is try to live."
"That's what I'm trying to do now." Zuko looked up, past the low homes and tall towers into the night sky. "Except you keep bothering me."
"I don't mean to bother you." Jet apologized as much as he was going to. "I sorta felt a connection to you. Now I know why."
Zuko waited for an answer.
"We both hate the Fire Nation."
"I suppose."
"And we're both trying to find a new home, here." Jet smiled, and Zuko himself felt confident for a moment. "I think we'd work well together." Jet held out his hand, and Zuko shook it. "Your hand feels warm."
"Yeah, they're like that..." Zuko blushed as much as he would allow himself to in the cold night.