Chapter Two: If it's not one thing, it's another
"Princess Azula, your mother is approaching."
Azula drew her body off the dais on the porch and accepted the robe her servant draped around her shoulders. She reached up and removed the tie that most of her fine hair had already slipped out of. It was hardly any use putting it up; her hair was still too short to stay where she wanted it.
The sound of the ocean contrasted with the tenseness that settled over her shoulders.
"Why am I just learning of this?" Her voice was sharp. It was over a week early for Ursa's monthly visit.
"I'm sorry, Princess. We didn't hear of any plans for an early visit."
Azula couldn't temper her scowl. She put her hand on the porch railing and looked over the thick vegetation to the sandy beach beyond. She'd been letting the jungle grow to give more privacy to this old family home on Ember Island. A sigh escaped her because she knew she would have to put up with her mother for at least a few days. If Iroh came… She didn't want to think about seeing that man again.
Every time she thought of his claim, she seethed in greater anger. Her birth was the result of her mother's infidelity with her husband's brother. She was a bastard, the natural born daughter of a rambling buffoon.
If she had been able to firebend when Iroh told her, she would have killed him. The rage had lessened only slightly in the few months since his confession and Ursa's confirmation.
"Prepare tea and get a room ready."
"Yes, Princess. Your mother should arrive in less than ten minutes."
Azula folded her arms and tried to gather her patience. She entered the house and dressed in a silk robe and loose trousers. Kota dutifully tied her sleeves above the elbow. Azula remained barefoot. For the second time that day, Kota drew the hair above Azula's ears back into a short ponytail. Azula watched the process in the mirror.
Her face had filled out and the seemingly ever-present circles under her eyes were gone. She looked healthy, if not happy. She certainly wasn't happy. Azula waved off Kota's attempt to put makeup on her face and slide a pin in her hair. "Send an invitation to Lo and Li for lunch."
Her original plan for the day was to nap through the afternoon and wander down to the beach in the evening. She was tired; she'd pushed herself hard that morning while she trained, and she'd swum a full lap around the bay. Instead of a relaxing day, she would have to put up with her mother's questions. In the very least, she could amuse herself with the presence of two women Ursa hated.
Azula walked into the courtyard and waited. Soon enough, Ursa stepped through the open gates of the beach house and reached out to Azula. Azula suffered the hug, despite herself relaxing at the scent and presence of her mother. Forgiving her mother was much easier than it should have been.
"I wasn't aware you were coming for a visit."
"Zuko needs me back at the capital next week so I thought I'd come see you a little early. You look so good, Azula! You've been taking such good care of yourself recently." Ursa gently squeezed her arm, and Azula wondered if her mother was testing her muscle tone. Before she could react, Ursa loosened the ties at her elbows. Azula's robe sleeves flapped out unchecked, a mass of unrestrained silk that now slid past her fingertips.
Azula glared at the two silk strings that Ursa slid into the pocket of her robe. She ground out, "Would you like tea, Mother?"
Ursa's lips pinched, and Azula knew she'd struck a nerve. Her mother had asked on more than one occasion for Azula to refer to her as babyish 'Mom'. It felt too strange on Azula's tongue. She paused in the hallway, and Kota set her sleeves to right, synching them above her elbows once again. Azula's irritation was soothed somewhat when Ursa's expression soured.
As they sat down together on the same balcony Azula had planned to take her nap on, she dutifully asked, "How was your trip?"
"Terrible, as always. I wish overland was faster than sea travel." Ursa sipped her tea and sighed, fanning herself despite the cool breeze that carried from the ocean. "At least it takes long enough to traipse across the island to this house for me to recover from my seasickness."
"Perhaps Zuko could designate an airship for you."
Ursa pointedly ignored Azula's facetiousness. "That would probably be far worse." She sighed into her cup. "What are the Ember Island Players showing now?"
Azula glanced over at Kota, who waited at the doorway to serve them. She bowed, answering the question. "I believe it is a production of the romance Ali and His Bride, my Lady."
"Well, doesn't that sound delightful?"
Of course it sounded delightful…and Ozai liked to wear pink ribbons in his beard. Azula laid her head on the table. Ursa laughed at her. "You could at least pretend you want to see it."
"I could also be a giant purple platypus bear with pink horns and silver wings," Azula muttered irritably.
"I don't understand."
Azula lifted her head. "Old joke. The point is, I'm a very good liar, but certain things aren't worth the effort."
"Are the Ember Island productions really that bad now?"
For the sake of brevity, she ignored the 'now' in that question. "In the grand scheme of things, they're not horrible. But personally, I'd rather spar with Dad on one of his bad days than go see that group of maudlin people who couldn't act their way out of a rice-paper bag."
She'd meant it as a joke, but Ursa's expression darkened. "What do you mean, spar with Ozai on one of his 'bad days'?"
Azula couldn't mask the frustration in her voice. "I've already told you. He prepared me for the battlefield. He's the reason I'm not dead on the end of some Kyoshi Warrior's sword or crushed by an earthbending maniac." Azula waved her hand casually.
"I… I can't believe Ozai sent you on your own to do these things!"
Azula got up and walked to the edge of the veranda to gather herself and even her anger. She didn't miss that Ursa was careful to not call Ozai Azula's father—an anger on top of everything else. There was nothing she could say to explain to her mother in terms she would understand. Ursa thought of things like love, happiness, and gentleness. Ozai thought of usefulness, responsibility, and power. One did not translate to another.
Ursa set down her teacup with an audible clack. "Your brother tells me that you've been petitioning to have Ozai moved."
In one way, Iroh's confession had jump-started her. She knew her limitations now, and while a coup would never happen and the crown would never be hers, she could at least help the man who'd raised her, no matter if he wanted her help or not. What was facing Ozai's anger in comparison to everything else that had gone wrong in her life?
"No doubt he's been living in the same conditions I suffered."
"He doesn't deserve any better."
"He was the Fire Lord of this nation. He's my father—"
"Azula!"
"I don't care if you fucked Iroh, Mother!" She snarled as she turned. "Ozai is the man who raised me, who cared about me. Iroh never cared, and neither did you."
Ursa lurched to her feet and slammed her fists into the table. The tea set rattled, and twin orange flames flicked from her nostrils. "Ozai never loved you, Azula! He used you like a soldier!" She took a calming breath and pressed her palms into the table, as if soothing it after her strike. "I wasn't there, and Iroh wasn't either. That's true. But we love you. We're here now. That's something Ozai can't give you."
"And whose fault is that?" Azula gestured sharply. "He's locked up in prison, and I've been denied visitation rights over and over again."
"Azula, it's not in your best interests to see him."
"I'm an adult. I can decide for myself what my bests interests are."
"You're only sixteen."
"I'm an adult," Azula reiterated. "I can join the army, vote, drink, and marry."
"Iroh wants to see you."
A bitter laugh escaped her. Of course Ursa would bring it back to Iroh. "I don't want to see him. He's not welcome in this household."
"He owns this house."
"I own this house," Azula snapped. "Everything that was in my father's possession at his imprisonment was given to me, through his enacted will. This house is mine, and I dictate who is allowed here."
"Your brother was the first in line for succession—"
"Dad disinherited him—"
"Ozai is not your father!"
Azula was so angry that her sight went red. She turned away so she didn't have to look at Ursa. Azula wished she could use bending as an outlet for the white-hot rage that roared through her. She heard Ursa walk up behind her and allowed her mother's arms to wrap around her shoulders.
Ursa said, "I don't want to fight."
"You certainly fooled me," Azula snapped. She wanted to be away, alone, somewhere distant. "Don't you dare touch my sleeves!"
Ursa laughed softly. "I won't. I know you love Ozai. And you respect him. But Iroh is a good man, and he wants to be here for you."
Azula swallowed, angry with herself for the tears that rose to her eyes. "I can't. I can't see him."
"Think about it, sweetie. I'll talk to Zuko about moving Ozai and your visitation rights."
That meant it would happen; her brother wouldn't say no to their mother. She found it in herself to say, "Thank you."
"Shall we go down to the beach before lunch?" Ursa punctuated that question with a kiss to Azula's cheek.
Her mother had offered her a hand of peace. Azula was obligated to respond civilly. "As you wish."
They wandered down to the beach and walked along the tide. The lines of stress on Ursa's face melted away when she turned her face into the breeze. Good for her; Azula still struggled to calm herself. They didn't speak, which made it a little easier. After perhaps an hour wandering along the ocean, Ursa suggested they take lunch.
Azula's lunch guests had arrived in their absence.
"Good afternoon, Lo and Li." Azula greeted the women who sat waiting in her dining room with a formal nod. She ignored Ursa's accusing look. Lo and Li both bowed back, echoing, "Thank you for the lovely invitation for lunch, Princess."
Ursa was pointedly silent, and her expression had taken a thunderous cast.
"We noticed your workout this morning, Princess," Lo said. Her lips curved into a long grin. "You've been working very hard. Perhaps it's time to reintroduce fire into your impeccable katas."
Azula stiffened, and Li continued, "Or perhaps it's that you've forgotten how, Princess."
"Such a thing is not uncommon after a devastating defeat," said Lo.
"But you're great enough to rise above it," continued Li.
"Both of you shut up before I have your tongues cut out," she commanded, her voice low in warning. Ursa was watching her, and she sent her glare across the table, warning all three from continuing the conversation. Lo and Li widened their eyes and peeked at each other.
"But of course, Princess."
"Forgive our mistake."
Azula feigned relaxation. She slumped sideways in her chair and rotated her wrist, her eyes off towards the ocean. "Mother tells me that she would like to see the Ember Island Players. Have you two been to the theater for the newest play?"
"Rather silly."
"But harmless fun."
"Perhaps you two would like to take her."
Ursa interjected. Her mouth was drawn into a stiff smile. "Azula, sweetie, there's no point in me going without you. I'm here to spend time with you."
"Of course," Lo said. "Indeed," Li replied. "Children do grow up fast."
Azula was disappointed in the cordiality that Ursa and Lo and Li pretended to have for each other. Ursa usually lost her patience with the women—partly because they'd done such a good job training Azula at such deadly skills. That particularly past discussion had been shockingly enraged on Ursa's side. Azula remembered her mother's temper, but she'd forgotten how hot it was. Now it was fun to prick at that anger.
After a lazy lunch, Lo and Li left the house. They bowed to Azula and Ursa and stated they must have Azula over for dinner at some point. She declined, still smarting from their inference that she had lost her bending. Whatever hope she'd had that Ursa would sense her mood and leave it alone was wasted.
"Have you lost your bending, Azula?"
"I don't want to talk about it."
Ursa snatched her arm. "Did the Avatar see you when you were in prison?"
She was startled by the anger in her mother's voice. "No."
Ursa's grip tightened. "Don't lie about this, Azula. If he took away your bending, I need to know."
She didn't like to think about the Avatar's megalomaniac handling of her father; part of her still didn't want to believe it. Reaching into a man's soul to strip him of his bending was too horrifying to believe. Yet it had happened, and it had happened to the one person who loved bending more than Azula did. She'd woken up from more than one nightmare with the Avatar hovering over her, reaching out to strip what was as inherent to her as her soul.
"The Avatar didn't touch me. If he had, I would have given him another scar to match the one I put on his back."
Ursa released her, exhaling. "I'm sorry. Your brother… I worried that he might have asked for your firebending stripped."
Azula had never considered Zuko might do that to her. He knew how important bending was to her. He knew it was her life. He was her big brother. Azula was stunned to realize she'd taken that for granted.
Ursa read her reaction. "I wish you two would forgive each other. I wish our family was whole again."
"We were never whole."
Ursa brushed her fingertips through Azula's hair and pulled her into a hug. "Do you remember when we vacationed here, when you turned four? We had a party and brought a petting zoo in. That zebra rhino bit Ozai. You and Zuko stayed up late that night and snuck out. I was frantic. We found you down by that old shack on the beach. Zuko was crying because you'd cut your back crawling inside. Do you remember?"
The memories flitted in, and Azula slowly relaxed into her mother's shoulder, fighting tears but not knowing why.
She hated herself and the rapid fluctuation of her feelings from rage to sorrow, her self-pity, her frozen inability to act. This was not who she was, not who she was meant to be. But it still felt good to be in her mother's arms again. She hated that too.
After half an hour of ignoring her, Ozai finally spoke. His voice was sharp. "Why are you here?"
Azula glanced up from her teacup. "The same reason I came last time, Dad. I'm checking on you."
Ozai glowered at Azula from across the room. She sipped her tea at the table and refused to be intimidated. She'd sparred with this man daily and had beaten him as often as he beat her. The fact she could no longer bend was matched with his ultimate loss. If he wanted to kill her, he'd have to use his bare hands like last time.
Not that Ozai had tried very hard two months ago. She'd certainly expected the blow and the grip he'd taken on her neck. It had been simple, really, to bring him to his knees by breaking his pinky finger. After that, they'd drunk tea together in malevolent silence as his eyes flickered around his new abode. This time, the visit had started with the malevolent silence. Progress, perhaps.
Ozai's lip curled in a familiar sneer. "I'm stunned you would dare show your face to me, Azula. My wayward daughter. I hear you're enjoying yourself down at Ember Island, wasting your days away while your worthless brother sits on the throne that is mine. And here I had thought you'd spent the last two years constructively."
Nevermind she'd been in prison for half a year too.
"Are you comfortable here?" she asked.
Ozai paced. He wore a silk robe and slippers. His bed was made in the corner, and a gated window opened into a quiet garden. His staff—and guards—lived in the compound with him. The entire place was surrounded by a tall, heavy wall topped with razor wire. Beyond that, miles of desert.
But it was better than a two meter by two meter cell with a straw mat in one corner.
He'd gained weight in the two months he'd been here. It was odd to see a round belly over his belt. He'd shaved his beard short and cropped his hair close to his head. He looked old. At her question, he waved his hand dismissively. That meant he appreciated the change. "They overcook my food day in and day out."
"I'll speak to the chef."
"You should be working to free me and to usurp your brother! Have you no pride in this nation?! It's bad enough that you lost to him, and now you let him dictate you."
What would he think of her if he knew the truth? Would he rage more about Iroh's blood in her veins or that she'd lost her firebending? In any case, it was time to leave. Azula stood, and Kota—who refused to leave her side in place of one of Ozai's wardens—gathered the tea set. Ozai wasn't allowed anything breakable in his chambers. "I'll see you in eight weeks, Dad."
"Don't you dare come back, you pathetic excuse for a daughter! A true daughter of mine would have killed Zuko and kept the throne for herself. She would have protected her father from the megalomaniac Avatar! You're not my daughter!" His shouts burned her back as she strode through the door. It closed heavily behind her, locks snapped in place, but she could still hear his muffled shouts behind it.
Perhaps her conflicting emotions were too close to the surface. Kota ventured to say, "This was a better visit, Princess."
She sent her servant a warning look and put every bit of sarcasm she knew into her words: "Yes, he didn't try to kill me this time."
As she stepped out into the hot day, she considered her options: visit Capital City to see Ursa or be besieged by her mother in a week at her home on Ember Island. It would be the first time she'd returned to the palace since she'd left for Ember Island months ago…and probably worth the trouble in this case. They stepped past the bowing guards and towards her waiting carriage. She spoke to the carriage driver, "To the Royal Palace."
"Yes, Princess."
Azula motioned for Kota to join her in the carriage impatiently. She was irritated that her servant had overstepped, but she wasn't about to leave her standing there outside of Ozai's prison. She could hardly trust one of Zuko's servants to attend to her.
It was an hour's ride to the volcano city. They would probably reach the palace in time for dinner. Azula considered that sour thought as she adjusted her sleeves and settled into the seat more comfortably.
"Anything of note going on in the capital?" She hadn't asked in a few days so there was probably more information to glean.
Kota spoke quietly with her head down, still cowed by her earlier familiarity. "Fire Lord Zuko has officially announced Lady Mai as his consort."
"Oh dear, oh dear. When do they plan to get married?"
"A date hasn't been set yet."
Azula shuddered, thinking of them procreating. What sort of maudlin whiny beasts would they produce?
"Lady Ursa has officially broken her marriage to Ozai."
"Don't tell me she's been carrying on an affair with Iroh," she muttered.
Kota pressed her lips together. Azula stared, stunned. "She has?"
"The servants of the palace confirm it, Princess."
Azula pressed her hand to her face in disgust. "Has everyone lost their minds? Don't tell me they plan to marry!"
"There's been no word of such a thing."
"Thank the dragon for small favors."
That particular bit of information was enough to completely blacken her mood for the rest of the journey to Capital City. No one was in the palace courtyard to greet her when they arrived, aside from royal staff who attended to the carriage and ostrich horse that had drawn it. Kota murmured briefly with one of them, then caught up to Azula. "Your rooms are ready. The royal family is supping on the east balcony."
What a terrible way to end a frustrating day: family dinner. She swept down the hallway, wondering how interesting she could make this get-together. As she stepped past the silk curtains onto the balcony, Ursa rose and rounded the table. "Azula! I had no idea you'd be visiting."
"I was making sure Father's care had continued." She accepted Ursa's hug despite herself and tried not to think about the fact that this woman had opened her bed up to Iroh. She seized Ursa's hand before her mother could reach her sleeve ties. Ursa gave her an affectionate smile and gave up on that venture.
"Hi, Azula," Mai said dryly, blatantly dropping Azula's title just to show she could.
She still wasn't sure how to act towards Mai. Cordiality implied Mai was forgiven, which implied she was right for what she did… But what was the use in acting like a child? Mai had won by choosing Zuko. Wasn't that just the smart choice? It had never been personal, not for Mai. "Good evening, Mai. Congratulations on your engagement to my brother."
Mai's eyebrows lifted just slightly. Her cheeks compressed somewhat, indicating a smile—likely sarcastic to match the tone of Azula's words. "Thanks."
"Azula, you look well," Iroh said as she sat down. She didn't look at him.
Zuko snorted. "Enjoying farting around at Ember Island?" he asked. He looked tired and stressed, no doubt from the growing unrest among the noble class.
"I do not 'fart around', Zuzu. I languish. But I am enjoying it; thank you for asking." She took the bowl that a servant placed beside her. Grilled white fish with fruit dipping sauce. Not her favorite. "I hear the nobles are unhappy with their heavier tax burden."
He scowled. "I don't know how else we're supposed to rebuild this country. Ozai spent almost everything on war machines."
"You're right, of course. But you can't apologize to them. You have to tell them."
"What the hell do you know about it? You were never Fire Lord!"
Azula set her bowl down as Ursa snapped, "Zuko, don't start!"
"I never bore the title, Zuzu, but I was the royal princess and heir apparent every year you were prancing around with Uncle Iroh—" Iroh winced at her title for him. "—wasting your time finding the Avatar. Dad was usually too busy for trade and commerce, so I had to sit in those meetings in his place. It was boring, but I know how it works."
"By all means." Zuko gestured wildly, nearly knocking his drink off the table. "If you want to do it, then do it!"
"I don't."
He stood up and shouted in his anger. She should have been smug. He'd chosen this life for himself when he'd accepted her Agni Kai challenge. Instead, Azula almost felt sorry for him. His entire life, he'd never wanted this responsibility. And now it fell on him like a burden. She was in no position to help him, even if she'd wished to. She couldn't firebend. She was worthless to the throne.
For the first time since the end of the war, Azula sought out her brother. She'd carried a question in the back of her mind since Ursa had revealed her heritage. It seemed as good a time as any to speak him one on one; she was tired of carrying the question around with her. She found him in his study, asleep on the desk.
"Brother."
He lurched up and looked around like he had no idea where he was. Stress had lined his face, and he had bags under his eyes. His disorientation shifted into distrust when he saw that she'd been the one to wake him. "What do you want?"
"How long have you known we have Roku's blood?"
He slowly sat down. His look of distrust and hatred didn't change. She wasn't intimidated; Ozai managed that expression when he had a little headache. She waited.
"I'm busy."
"Which is why you were napping on…" She leaned over his desk and spun the scroll around with her finger. "On a financial edict." She frowned as she studied it in more detail. "You shouldn't sign this. The Zan family would scalp you blind; they own most of the refineries in that district."
His mouth tightened, his hands clenched, and then he gave his tension up with a sigh. "I wasn't going to." He sat silent for a moment. "I knew about Roku because I read Sozin's memoirs. He talked about Roku. And I asked Iroh."
Of course. Of course he asked Uncle Iroh. She'd sometimes wondered what had caused him to turn traitor to his own family. Zuko had always loved Iroh more than anyone else. "And you had a crisis of faith."
"I had a crisis of faith when I agreed to help you in Ba Sing Se."
Azula laughed at his anger, provoking more. "Don't go all guilty on my account. I would have won with or without your help."
"Then why ask?!"
"Because I wanted you home."
"You've always treated me like shit! Don't pretend you care about me."
"I don't like you. I've had to watch my entire life as you, the heir apparent of the Fire Nation, squandered your birthright. There is nothing to like about that. I thought this would be a way for you to finally fulfill your role as Prince." She'd wanted him home again, even if it meant she wouldn't take the throne. Taking the throne for herself was a wish she'd entertained since Ozai's appointment, but not one she'd ever seriously thought would be fulfilled.
"I was just a kid! If you hadn't forgotten, Ozai did this to me!" He pointed at his scar.
"If he'd marked your chest, would you be less dramatic about it?" She rolled her eyes.
"Fuck you! You never loved me."
She was conflicted in that moment, upset he felt that way and angry with herself that he could hurt her at all. Her words fell abruptly flat. "You're my big brother."
"No, I'm not. All my life, you've taken everything away from me. And now you've stolen Uncle too."
Of course he would be jealous of something Azula had never wanted. She couldn't stop her bitter laugh. "If you think I'm happy about that fuddy-duddy clown providing his seed for my conception, you're a greater fool than he is. And you're still my brother no matter how much you don't want it to be true."
Zuko put his face in his hand. His voice was thick, not with anger but—she was stunned to hear—with guilt. "I was supposed to protect you."
He was bouncing between emotions so quickly she could barely keep up. "I don't need your protection."
"Uncle told me about the asylum. They ripped your fingernails off."
"How did you think they would treat Ozai's favorite in the wake of his deposition…and my own? Admittedly, my manner during the comet's pass probably didn't dissuade them from handling me as they did," she conceded.
Zuko slammed his fists on the table. "I didn't know! No one said anything to me! I should have visited you. I would have fixed it!"
Azula couldn't contain her sharp laugh. "You feel guilty? Don't bother. I deserved to rot in that cell for the rest of my life for my failures. The shame is my own."
Zuko's shoulders sagged, perhaps in relief. "All I ever wanted was a family."
"You have one," Azula pointed out. "You may not like me, but I'm here. I always have been."
She watched his understanding slowly dawn. With it came acceptance, if not happiness. They would survive this.
Azula wasn't surprised when Iroh settled next to her during her meditations the next day. While her home on Ember Island was her sanctuary, apparently he thought conversation with her was fair game in the royal palace. He cleared his throat and asked, "How are you, Azula?"
Instead of ignoring him like she wanted to, she found herself saying, "You haven't told him."
"I beg your pardon."
"You haven't told Da—" She stopped, startled by the incongruity of her coming statement. "You didn't tell Ozai that he's not my father."
"There is no reason for him to know."
"Then why tell me?"
"Because I'm a selfish old man. I lost my son long ago, Azula, and finding out that you're my daughter… It was like a second chance. I told you because I wanted you to know."
"Me? I would think you'd wish Zuko was yours."
Iroh's voice was quiet. "I love Zuko very much. But having a child with Ursa… Azula, I regret every moment that I didn't know. I regret never trying to learn who you are. But there's still time."
"You ruined my life. On top of everything else that's gone wrong, you tell me that I'm not who I think I am."
"Are you so defined by your connection to Ozai?"
"You just told me that finding out I was your daughter changed your life. Was it not supposed to affect me the same way?"
Iroh lowered his head. "I'm sorry, deeply so. It wasn't the right time. But it may never have been. I want to get to know you, Azula. May I visit you on Ember Island?"
Ursa would nag her to death if she didn't give him this. She sighed sharply, tired of her wavering feelings towards everything. "Come if you wish, but don't expect a warm welcome."
By his expression, it was like she'd welcomed him as her father with a kiss and embrace. He smiled through his tears. "That's all I can ask for."
Four days later, Azula finally stepped into the courtyard of her home on Ember Island. She'd suffered a play, daily family dinners, Iroh's hesitant conversation, and her mother's nagging for the entire visit. She'd lost at least eight sleeve ties to her mother too. Now Azula was looking forward to the beach and the sun and her bed and most of all: quiet.
Which made it all the more vexing when her majordomo rushed out into the courtyard and began to bow profusely. He was not an excitable man. Something must have happened.
"Forgive me, Princess. But a young lady by the name of Katara has taken up residence in your absence. I was unable to remove her from the household before your arrival. We aren't certain as to the reason for her presence, but she claims Fire Lord Zuko has given her express permission to stay here."
Katara. And Zuko knew the entire time of her visit that this girl had taken her home?!
Azula flushed in rage. She strode into the house, down a hallway, and threw open the one closed door. From inside, the waterbender lurched to her feet with a scream of shock.
"Why, pray tell, are you encroaching upon my privacy?!" Azula snarled.
"Azula?" Katara's eyes rounded. She looked around herself before taking a defensive stance and snapping off the cover of her water skin.
"This is my home, peasant. I demand to know why you're here!"
Katara's jaw dropped. "Your home?! Zuko told me I could stay down here. He never told me you're living here or believe me, I wouldn't have come."
"Then get out!"
"Where am I supposed to go?"
"Do I look like I care?!"
"Zuko told me I could be here, so you're the one who's encroaching!"
"I own this house!"
"I don't care if you think you own this entire island! Zuko's the Fire Lord, and he gave me permission!"
Azula wasn't quite sure how it happened, but the next thing she was aware of, they were wrestling on the floor, snarling against each other as they tried to get the other in a submission hold. Katara put an elbow in Azula's eye socket, but Azula managed to drag her into an elbow lock.
Kota, her bodyservant, stood in the doorway, her eyes wide as she took in the undignified scene. They both froze at the sight of a third person, and Azula took advantage of that to tighten her grip on Katara's arm. "I'll break your arm if I have to. I'll let you go if you agree to talk about this civilly."
"Like you know how to compromise!"
"I've been doing a shocking amount since the end of the war, Katara."
Katara stilled at the sound of her name. She relaxed and said, "Okay. We can talk."
When Azula let go of her arm, Katara rubbed her elbow. She rolled over and paused when she looked into Azula's face. Azula blinked blood from her eye and got to her feet, refusing to show how much her eyelid ached from the blow. Doubtlessly her eye would swell closed.
She vaguely wondered why Katara hadn't used waterbending to subdue her.
A few minutes later, Katara walked out to the balcony to join Azula, and they took tea. Azula breathed in the scent of her tea and realized that it did go a long way to calming the nerves. Imagine that: she agreed with Iroh about something. "This house is big. If you wish to stay here, you may have one wing."
Katara eyed her suspiciously.
Azula tightened her jaw and offered the rest of her suggestion with more generosity than Katara deserved. "And you may make use of one of my servants to attend to your needs."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
Trust a commoner to need clarification on a servant's duties. "Bring you bathwater, clean up your quarters, make sure there's food on your table at the appropriate times. Et cetera."
"I'm not sure I trust one of your people to give me food. What if you poison me?"
"If I wanted to kill you, waterbender, I'd use a knife."
"Oh, that's sweet of you," Katara muttered.
Azula curled her lip in wordless reply to Katara's sarcasm. "If you don't want to stay here after all, I'm sure you can find suitable housing elsewhere."
"I'll stay here, thanks," Katara snapped. She hesitated. "You really mean that about your servants?"
"So long as my needs are met, you're welcome to what you require. My supplies are billed to the royal coffers, so whatever you need here will be funded by them." That might provide a bit of guilt. Azula sipped her tea, irritated that her split eyebrow had begun to bleed again. "Now tell me: why are you here?"
"I told you—"
"I mean to what purpose are you here?"
Katara paused, as if she hadn't considered that for herself yet. Her face hardened. "That's none of your business."
"Fine, keep your drab secrets." Azula could appreciate the honesty in that response, as much as it irritated her. She got up, ready to go to bed and be done with the day. Katara got to her feet as well.
"Wait."
Azula flinched as Katara opened her water skin and bent water into her hand. "Let me heal that." Her water-covered fingertips glowed as they approached Azula's eye. There was soothing coolness and an itching shock on her eyebrow, and when Katara withdrew, Azula could open her eye fully. The swelling had disappeared. She touched her eyebrow and felt tender skin over what used to be an open cut.
A peace gesture, perhaps. Azula gave Katara a nod in recognition as she stepped into her bedroom. Instead of going to bed, she changed into casual wear and walked out to the beach. She wandered along the surf, watching the sun set and the waxing moonlight dance off of the waves. The scent and sound of the ocean always settled her nerves.
Likely she would need a lot of settling in the days ahead.
She was surprised she wasn't bitterer about the identity of the person who had stepped into her life. She should hate Katara. But there was a dichotomy in her mind: hating Katara would mean she had no reason to hate herself. Blaming Katara meant that she was exempt of blame herself. And in it all, Azula knew her loss was her own fault. Had she not done what she'd done, weakened herself in every way that she had, she would have defeated her brother and Katara.
So why hate and blame the girl who had simply performed her best to save her own life? Ozai had taught Azula many things, even when he himself didn't understand his own lessons: the existence of blame casts its shadow on the accuser.
As much as she wanted to blame Katara, she couldn't.
It took three days for Katara to approach her again. When she did, she did so with condescension. "What exactly do you do here?"
Azula looked up in irritation as Katara took a seat at her study desk midafternoon. She'd been reading about trade laws and was, despite herself, incredibly grateful for an interruption, rude or not. "I don't have time to deal with your curiosity."
Katara scoffed, nibbling on a teacake. "All you seem to have is time."
It stung. Her tone was appropriately caustic. "Why ask a question if you've already decided on the answer for yourself? You still haven't answered my question as to why you're here."
Katara hesitated, settling down in her seat. "Look, I need a vacation, but I'm starting to think this place isn't all that relaxing."
"It was quite relaxing before you barged in on my home."
"I don't know why you don't just blame Zuko for that, since you hate him anyway."
"You know nothing."
"Oh, enlighten me. Because I remember you trying to kill him more than once."
"Maybe you should remember him doing the same to me." Azula's mouth tightened. "He stood in the way of what was best for the Fire Nation. No matter my feelings about Zuko, he had to be pushed aside."
"He's your brother."
"I'm well aware." Her half-brother, a thought that had surprising hurt attached to it. Azula sighed as she sipped her drink. "You have a brother, right? The stupid one with the ponytail."
Katara scowled. "What of it?"
"If he set out to do something you knew would destroy the Water Tribe, would you stop him?"
"Sokka wouldn't do that—"
"This is clearly a hypothetical situation. If Sokka went mad—"
"Like you did," Katara muttered.
Azula ignored her with great effort and continued, "—and decided he had to destroy your people, would you kill him if you had to?"
"No!"
"How can you be so sure? Is your brother more important than an entire nation of people?"
"I beat you without killing you, didn't I?"
Azula rocked back in her seat, speechless. She wasn't sure what was stronger in her: rage or shame. She walked off the veranda of her study and onto the beach, unable to stomach staying in a room with that—that bitch, that peasant, that ignorant little girl who clearly knew nothing of the responsibilities of a royal family.
She beat you, you stupid, worthless girl. Azula wanted fire so badly she ached. She wanted to scream it out, melt flesh from bone, and torch the world. Nothing would stand in the way of her anger if only she could find her flames again. Azula opened her hand and exhaled, and what should have been there, so easy, warm and powerful in her, was cold and empty. No flame. Nothing.
Katara followed her onto the beach. She said, "Maybe we should finish what we started."
"A fight to the death?" Azula replied, her heart thumping louder than her dry words.
"No, I mean our fight the other day."
She laughed. "We did finish it. I put you in an elbow lock. Unless you prefer I break your arm now."
"We could use our bending."
"It would be unworthy."
Azula turned on one heel and walked away.
She heard Katara's running footsteps behind her and grinned in anticipation. Azula dodged sideways, leaving her ankle out. Katara tripped and went down, and Azula was on her. She tried to get an arm around Katara's neck, but Katara jerked her hips, and they rolled.
She was stronger physically than Azula had assumed. It was exhilarating to find that out for reasons she couldn't fathom. Her enemy was strong, graceful, and a very good fighter even without bending. This would be a challenge, especially when the purpose wasn't to kill or maim.
Katara's knee found Azula's gut, and she had to roll away to catch her breath. Katara got to her feet as well and came at Azula with a swift punch. It clipped her jaw, and she countered with a neat jab to Katara's stomach. Katara was at the advantage, and though she grunted, she'd stiffened in preparation for the blow. Azula blocked her counter and this time landed a solid punch to Katara's jaw.
Katara threw herself at Azula's stomach, and they went down again and began to wrestle like peons. They probably looked like fools, but it was exhilarating. Azula slipped Katara's hold and got to her feet again. The next round of blows they traded left Azula's cheek smarting and Katara's right nostril bleeding.
They went down in the sand again, each attempting to gain the advantage. They fought long enough that both of them were winded from the effort. In their final bout, Katara landed a blow that made Azula double over. But she retaliated with a head-butt that left Katara reeling.
They both fell into the sand, gasping for breath. As soon as Azula could draw air into her lungs, she shocked herself by letting out a peal of laughter. "We're a couple of fools!" she gasped. She let out another round of hearty guffaws before she rocked into silent laughter.
When she looked up, she was surprised to see Katara watching her in shock. Her blue eyes seemed especially sharp in this light. The sight of Katara with her hair down and wild and sandy, her nose bleeding and a bruise coming up on her cheek, added to the hilarity of the situation. Azula wiped tears from her eyes. "I think I have several pounds of sand in my clothing. Next time, let's take our little battle up past the dunes, shall we?"
"I didn't think you could laugh," Katara said at last. She was incredulous. "I can't believe it… Did you have fun doing that?"
"Didn't you?"
Katara hesitated, but Azula could see she was considering it. "You're out of your mind."
"That was Sozin's Comet," Azula countered, still grinning fiercely despite herself. She felt almost drunk from the adrenaline of that fight. It was so obvious she'd been missing that. She got to her feet, shook sand out of her silk trousers, and offered, "If you want, I can fight you again."
"Who are you?"
That sobered Azula immediately. A few years ago, she would have spoken with fierce pride: I'm the Royal Princess of the Fire Nation. Now, she looked past Katara into the gray waves of the ocean and admitted, "I wish I knew."
-TBC-