Chapter 16: The dragon dance
The battle didn't start at all like she expected. But in Azula's defense, who expected to fight a dragon? Instead of clashing flames or lightning, the dragon snapped its jaws and seized Azula's right arm in the toothless gap between its canines and premolars. It lifted her with a yank of its head and they were flying rapidly across the island, back towards the sandy beach where the Avatar had left her hours ago.
She was hanging at an uncomfortable angle, buffeted with each undulating beat of the dragon's wings. It flew as much with its snake-like body as its wings. Azula turned her head and realized she had to time her next move precisely. If she didn't time this right, she would die from the fall. If she didn't make this move, she would surely die to the dragon from whatever this beast meant to do to her.
Maybe its lair was on the beach and it meant to eat her. Maybe it wanted to throw her to her death out over the ocean. Maybe it just liked to play with its prey like Tonk did.
She didn't plan to find out.
As they reached the coastal edge of the ruined city, Azula released fire into its gullet from her trapped hand. The dragon shrieked in rage, and as it did so, it dropped her.
It took a precious moment to orient herself. Her momentum was carrying her towards the beach, but she wouldn't make it out of the city while falling. She exhaled a sharp burst of flame to get her feet back under her. She would need the soft sand of the beach to survive the fall. Azula gave another firebending burst: a horizontal push and a vertical one to slow her fall and propel her towards the beach. When she cleared the jagged rock, sandy dunes rushed up towards her. She exhaled three short powerful bursts to coax combustions beneath her feet and slow her fall so she wouldn't shatter her bones when she hit the ground.
She was rusty after all these years and landed a little off-target.
When she hit the sand, she rolled into a quick somersault, tried to catch her feet, and instead went head over heels at least twice more before her momentum slowed enough that she could pop back to her feet. She vibrated from her feet to her scalp from the impact but took no time to slip into the steady stance Zuko had used against her so many years ago. This was why she'd trained to keep her lungs open; this was why she'd practiced her katas without flame. She'd always wanted to firebend with them. Why not use the form against a dragon?
The dragon landed just down the beach with a long, angry hiss. The smooth blue scaly skin of its long thorax expanded with each inhalation. The dragon had unusual narrow pinnae instead of facial fins, and they were erect, pointed to where she stood on the sand. Sunlight caught soft white hairs that lined the edges of those odd ears. Its two curved horns sprouted from the boney plates above its brow, and its whiskers were much shorter than the traditional images painted by many Fire Nation artists. Its golden eyes glowed at Azula.
It was watching her, as she was watching it.
"You are a beautiful creature," she said. She was surprised to realize she was grinning fiercely.
Its ears trembled and folded back, and it hissed, baring long white canines and two rows of straight incisors. Those deadly teeth were not its greatest weapon.
Azula settled back into her stance and curled two fingers; her voice shook with energy. "Shall we?"
The dragon gave a powerful shriek and burst off of the ground faster than Azula anticipated. It belched another attack of yellow flame, and she planted her feet and used her own hotter blue fire to ward it off with ease. It was easy, simple, and as if she'd been firebending every day for the last twelve years. She didn't think about it; she didn't want to ponder herself right out of firebending again. Luckily, this dragon wasn't going to give her the chance.
She spun on one planted heel and waited for the dragon to come back from the other direction.
This time, the dragon's flame changed mid-breath; hot fluttering yellow sharpened into a blue jet.
It was imitating her fire.
Azula would have laughed if she could; instead, her mouth stretched in a feral grin. She warded off this attack with more difficulty by throwing up a powerful wall of her own fire to break the dragon's.
She challenged its next pass, kicking a column of blue fire. It thundered against the ground like a splashing whip of flame, a physical manifestation of her exhilaration. The strength of her attack turned the dragon on a hasty retreat; it skidded into the grassy dunes. There it writhed in an explosion of sand before it managed to take to the air again.
Azula seized the central pole of her body and wrenched it apart, tearing lightning from within herself painfully. She exhaled, and it arced out from her fingers with her breath, leaving her galvanized. Static shattered the air, and the brightness of the lightning branded her retinas. The dragon opened its mouth into the bolt of lightning like it would consume it. With a snake-like roll of its abdomen, the lightning burst back onto the beach with a thunderous boom.
The dragon circled her so fast Azula lost track of its head. Lightning came at her—from it—a moment later. She caught it, let it flow across her chest, and sent it up the beach, where it once again thundered so powerfully it hollowed her chest and emphasized her stuttering heart.
The dragon could bend lightning. Never had Azula read of any dragon that could do so. She was in awe of the power of this magnificent beast, but she had no breath to spare to laugh. The dragon roared as it approached once again.
She was too exhilarated—fighting a dragon, it was her wildest dream—to stay on the defensive. She kicked off the ground as she breathed and directed her flame beneath her feet and hands. She left swaths of fire and lines of glowing melted sand as she accelerated across the ground.
Azula drew back her arm and threw it forward, expanding her punch in a sweep of flame towards the dragon charging at her. To her shock, the dragon beat its great wings and simply flew by her flame. On its pass, it flicked its tail like a whip and struck Azula across the shins sharply. Her momentum sent her tumbling over herself. She scattered sand as she somersaulted and hit the ground hard. Her shins pulsed in muted pain and her shoulder wrenched from the impact.
There was no time to revel in her pain. She stood and found the strong stance once more. Instead of charging Azula during her weakness, the dragon crooned as it swept through the air. It belched a ring of blue fire and darted through its own flames. It was playing.
She stared up at it in disbelief. Had the dragon punished her for using another firebending form? She needed to regain its attention.
Azula swung her arm in a loop and coaxed a ring of blue fire—one of her favorite firebending attacks—that jetted from her body and spun in a harsh hiss across the sand, leaving another deep melted furrow across the beach. Her fire curved where Azula directed it, and the dragon folded its wings and flattened its body to avoid the attack.
She fended off two more of the dragon's offenses—and took a snap of a wingtip across her back—before it managed to copy her fire ring attack. When it snorted the ring at her, the fire came faster than her own had ever moved. She launched herself off the ground and twisted. The heat of its blue flames nearly scorched her face as it swept by; it coaxed a roaring hiss as it skidded across the ocean. She managed to keep all her appendages attached and to avoid the hot sand beneath her feet when she landed.
That had been close. It made her grin.
The dragon broke their pattern and belched a swirling wave of blue fire that expanded hot and wide as it rushed to her. She leaned forward to seize the flame as her own and part it across her body. The beast flew by her twice more, doing the same thing each time. For the sheer challenge of it, Azula attempted to reproduce that attack. It took her that many times to repeat the process for herself: manipulating a rolling cone of flame that rushed up the beach. There was a delicate balance in such an attack. The fire required was so huge and powerful that controlling it was difficult, and she felt fierce pride at her accomplishment.
The dragon gave a hissing croon as it flew by the next time; it didn't attack on that pass.
This wasn't Agni Kai; it wasn't a fight; and it wasn't a spar.
It was the mime-stepping partnership of a dance.
This was a feral dragon, and she was taming it.
Azula allowed herself a laugh now, echoing the dragon's happy sound. They went back and forth, mirroring and shifting—learning new forms from each other, striking and causing pain as much as not—until the sun dipped low in the western horizon and Azula reached the end of her energy.
The dragon seemed similarly fatigued; its flame had cooled and softened considerably. Their movements slowed and relaxed until the dragon only flew back and forth, sweeping closer and closer until it slithered around Azula on its belly, leaving a ring of disturbed sand in its wake. She held her palm on its smooth, dry scales as it did so.
It stopped to face her with its body looped loosely around her. It lifted its great head, and she saw by the graceful curve of the plates over its nose that it was female. Azula's hand cautiously followed her eyes. A young female whose eyes were brilliant gold. Behind them lurked great intelligence. The dragon's pupils had constricted to tight slits in the setting sun; her third eyelid flicked up as Azula's finger traced over the plate above her eye. There was a fine dusting of fur across most of the dragon's face: white and blue in a symmetric pattern. The dragon's nose was a graceful arch; below it opened a mouth full of giant cat-like teeth. On her chin was thick white fur that was bristly against Azula's fingertips.
The dragon's beauty surpassed every painting or sculpture Azula had ever seen.
She was easily twenty meters in length. Her wingspan likely matched that. Her wingspan alone made her appear huge. The dragon must have sensed Azula's attention because she spread their broadness to awe-inspiring full width. Her scales were deep blue, nearly black except where the evening sun softened the color. Her limbs were short but powerful; the forelimbs sat just caudal to her wings. Her pelvic limbs marked the start of her long, graceful tail that ended with a tuft of white fur.
The female dragon looked Azula in the eye. And then the dragon lowered its head in a universal bow.
This was a feral dragon that Azula had just subdued, and it was asking her to mount it.
This was a triumph: glory and power and grace and infinite joy. She would be the first person to ride a dragon in almost a century. How had any self-respecting firebender ever thought killing a dragon was of greater merit than this?
Azula wrapped one hand over the dragon's left horn. The dragon nosed her leg as Azula shifted to straddle her powerful neck. She gripped the dragon's right horn and tightened her thighs on the dragon's sinewy neck.
There was no warning.
One moment they were in an act of still beauty on the beach. The next moment, the ground had fallen away and Azula's stomach stayed behind as her body lurched upward. The beach shrank; then the island became a rounded blip of land in the blue sea. They were far above the clouds that sat on the horizon like mountains. Higher they went with each powerful beat of the dragon's wings.
The air grew colder and thinner as the horizon began to dip at the edges and round. All these years and all those books she'd read and believed, and Azula saw with her own eyes that the earth was round. Azula saw in one shocking moment a piece of the northern curve of the Capital Island, her nation, as if laid out on a map. Her sight blurred.
At first she thought her shortness of breath was from her awe. Then her lungs heaved as she tried to gasp the thin air. It filled her lungs, but the air could not sustain her. Sweat froze to her face and hair, and her sight speckled black as she began to lose consciousness.
The dragon's upward momentum slowed and stopped in the thin air, and then she simply lowered her horned head and folded her wings.
Azula's stomach had finally caught up to her, and it was left far above the clouds as her body began to fall.
It should have been terrifying. Azula had to clench her thighs and tighten her hands on the dragon's horns to avoid losing her seat. They fell through the clouds in a streamlined rush. When they broke from the clouds, the swirling teal and navy sea rushed at them. If she'd had enough breath to scream, she would have. Yet she inherently trusted the magnificent dragon that carried her.
The dragon rewarded her trust. Its body shifted, and those great wings opened just enough to begin to slow their descent. The scream Azula would have given became joyous laughter when she gulped a full breath of air. Gradually the dragon's wings opened completely and stroked down in a hard beat. They soared through the air—dipping into the ocean at odd intervals—back to the island.
She was riding a dragon!
Azula's emotions were too great to hold in, and she tilted her head back and shouted herself hoarse. The dragon bellowed with her.
Even after the dragon landed on the beach, Azula's hands and thighs didn't want to unclench. When she managed to, she dropped into the sand and lay there on her belly, panting in elation and weeping for the gift she'd just been given. The dragon nuzzled at her back, then huffed at her hair. Azula dragged her fingers through the sand to push herself into a crouch.
She lifted her head and stared into its curious gaze.
The dragon lurched forward, opened her great maw, and closed powerful jaws gently around Azula's head and shoulders. There was no pain; the blunt teeth didn't close down around her hard enough to break skin or even bruise.
Unlike the firebending battle and first mounted ride, this was not a behavior Azula had ever read about.
She sat frozen with the warm spiced scent of the dragon's breath flowing around her face. The rough tongue touched her face gently and pulled back. There was a rush of air as the dragon gulped a breath inward. Then the dragon exhaled.
Fire burst around Azula. Her clothes disintegrated in a flutter of burned silk. She waited for screaming pain as it charred the flesh from her bones, but pain didn't come. Heat wasn't there. She was blind to everything but the brilliant burst of flame inside the dragon's mouth, but she knew in that moment what she would have seen if she could: her skin was whole, untouched by the dragon's fire.
With that joyous truth in her mind, her world went dark.
Azula choked. She coughed and spat sand and salt water from her mouth. A cool wave swept up around her body.
She lifted her head and looked around her.
The beach was decimated: covered in shattered sandy glass, flattened dunes, and deep furrows that the rising tide flowed into. She focused on the deep trough left by a huge snake-like body along the dunes, then the imprint of wide underbelly scales by her body.
Dragon!
Azula lurched to her feet and groaned as her muscles unclenched. She looked down at herself. She was naked; she remembered in a flash that her clothes had been burned off. Her right side felt burned, but as her hand fell to her skin, she realized it was from the sun, not from fire.
Her flame. A dragon. She'd ridden a dragon, and she could firebend. Azula laughed for joy despite the certain pain of her body. On the same breath as her laughter came blue fire. She was back; she was whole; she was finally herself again!
She was also bruised and cut; and her muscles, joints, and bones ached. She was hungry and thirsty and exhausted. She had a variety of physical complaints and could spend hours cataloguing them all. She probably looked like the walking dead.
She felt amazing. Unfortunately her range of motion at that moment was close to nothing. At least she still could walk.
Azula took a step up the beach and sliced her foot open on rough glass left in the wake of their fire and lightning.
At least she could walk until a second ago.
Azula carefully sat down on a patch of soft sand. She groaned in pain as she put the foot against her thigh to study the wound. She was bleeding from an uneven gash deep into the arch of her foot. She tightened her hand over the wound to staunch the bleeding.
As she waited her elation was too much to contain. She threw her head back and shouted, "I am Azula. I am a dragon!"
Her hoarse voice echoed down the beach. No one replied, but the shout had been for herself. Her throat and chest were tight from emotion, not pain. She laughed in sheer elation even as she had trouble believing it all real. This would be an amazing story for Katara.
Then Azula realized she had to get home.
In this moment, sitting on the ruined beach after traveling through a booby-trapped city, dancing with a dragon, being carried so high she saw the world bend, and being baptized in fire, Azula admitted to herself that she might have sabotaged herself by sending the Avatar away. Now she was a serious threat to him. If he did come back for her, she'd rather not meet him in her weakened state. She would have to find her own way off this island.
Even without the Avatar, staying on the island with a feral dragon wasn't an option. She'd just torn her foot open enough that she doubted she'd be able to walk on it, let alone fight or fly the dragon. She didn't want to test what now seemed a delusion of grandeur. So…she couldn't walk, but she could swim.
Azula looked out to the moonlit sea to judge the distance of the islands surrounding this one. There might be a small fishing village at one of those islands. Katara had taught her to trust the black ocean and the bright full moon. Azula got to her feet and limped out into the breakers. The salt stung her wounds sharply but only for a few minutes.
If she was on the map where she thought she was, there were no great currents that would bear her out to the endless sea of the west. If she wasn't… Well, she would have to swim out anyway. After the day she'd had, Azula decided to have a little faith. She put her face into the water and began to swim.
She hadn't swum regularly in years, but the technique came back quickly. She counted her strokes to try to keep an estimate of how far she swam from the island: roughly one stroke per meter in the ocean. When she'd reached three thousand strokes, she rolled onto her back and floated, resting.
She was desperately thirsty.
A strange noise made her lift her head from the water. Azula cocked her head to catch the noise again. Someone was humming. Then the humming morphed into boisterous off-key singing:
"It's a long, long way to Ba Sing Se,
But the girls in the city they look so pretty,
And they kiss so sweet that you've really got to meet
The girls from Ba Sing Se!
The girls from Ba— Si—ng Se—!"
A splash of white floated above the horizon. She stared at it for a long moment, not quite believing her vision. The singing helped ground her, but it gave the entire situation a dream-like quality…as if the day hadn't been insane enough already. Azula swam lazily towards the small fishing boat and its furled sail.
"Excuse me." Her voice was horribly hoarse, but it still worked.
The man in the boat jerked around so hard he nearly fell out. He yelped when he saw her. He stared at her with wide eyes like he was trying to decide if she was real. She was still fighting a similar doubt.
"May I rest in your boat?"
His mouth opened but produced no noise, and he nodded wordlessly.
Azula seized the side of the boat with her sore palms. She wasn't sure she could haul herself up without help. His strong hands caught her shoulder, then grabbed her backside as he hoisted her aboard. "Beggin' your pardon," he said as he did so.
She rolled into the rocking boat and closed her eyes, too exhausted and relieved to care about her nudity. The man unbelted his linen tunic and handed it to her. Azula was grateful for the cover but not pleased it had stripped the fisherman to his loincloth. The linen covering smelled of man: sharp sweat and body odor. That didn't stop her from putting it on.
He watched her closely as he handed her his skin of water. She gulped it down greedily and gasped when she pulled it from her mouth. She'd never tasted anything so sweet.
What this man must think, floating in the middle of the ocean and pulling a naked woman into his fishing boat.
He grinned and spoke along the same vein: "I was just thinking my friends were having a great laugh at ol' me. They told me I might catch a rare night fish tonight. Turns out ol' Yoshi gets to laugh, huh? I caught a mermaid."
"You can call me whatever you want as long as you get me to someplace that has a port."
He grinned. "Where in the world did you come from? You're pretty beat up."
She pointed towards the dragon island.
His smile faded. Then, without a word, he pulled the boom of his mast around, unfurled the sail, and directed his boat towards the east island. After the wind caught his sail, he gave her salted fish which she chewed on with relish. It tasted wonderful, as good as the sweet water she guzzled. He handed her a second skin of water when she finished the first.
She studied the man, unable to place his race. His scalp was shaved into a mohawk that was pulled back into a high ponytail. He had facial tattoos that emphasized his high cheekbones, but there were no similar markings on his thin body. He'd been singing a popular tune, but he looked like he'd stepped out of history.
In less than an hour, the man threw a loop of rope over an old tree stump in an inlet of the east island. He dragged the boat against a couple of loose planks that served as a dock and helped Azula onto land. He put his shoulder under her own and whistled happily in her ear as they limped up the sandy forest path.
"Did you actually catch something, Yoshi?" The voice that came from the hut at the end of the path was female and full of dry humor.
"A mermaid!" Yoshi cried. His tone shifted into smugness. "The mermaid that stirred the dragon's nest earlier today."
The hut entry was full of round woman a moment later. She practically bowled her reedy husband over as she reached out and cupped Azula's cheeks with shocking intimacy. "Haha!" the woman cried. Then she kissed both of Azula's cheeks. Azula stared at her in shock. Even after a week of the informality of the Southern Water Tribe, that gesture was far too familiar.
"Come, come! You'll want a bath and dinner!"
The woman seized her hand in an iron grip, pulled Azula's arm over her shoulder, and practically carried Azula as they hurried into a dilapidated town.
"Dragon dancer!" the woman cried. "My Yoshi's brought the dragon dancer!"
People stirred in all the huts, and soon enough there was a crowd staring at Azula curiously. They were all similar to Yoshi in hairstyle and facial tattoos. They touched her, patted her shoulder, and kissed her cheeks. She was led to the biggest hut in the village and poured a hot bath. The women of the village bathed her, unwrapped Azula's hair from the Water Tribe braids that had survived more than Azula would have ever anticipated, and fed her gamey goat horse stew while she sat in the comfort of the hot water.
They rubbed her down with some sort of sweet-smelling salve, gave her bitter willow bark to chew, and saw to her wounds. Her pain eased somewhat.
These people dressed her in garnet silk trousers gathered below the knees with padded shin-guards and wrapped her in a surprisingly well-sewn silk tunic. The tunic was over ten years out of style; it was a loop of cloth that covered her backside and swept up into the blue belt knotted at her waist. She'd worn a similar thing during the war, hadn't she? Azula wouldn't have noticed in such detail but they were very particular about how they dressed her; several arguments broke out through the entire process.
"I want the sleeves tied," she demanded.
The women all looked at her for a moment, considered it, and then nodded to each other. "Yes, of course. It would be silly to go without."
Finally, people who understood.
They gently eased her feet in soft braided straw sandals—though most of them were barefoot—and drew her hair up into a high ponytail bound tightly in a clasp of stiff material. It was all rather archaic.
It wasn't often that Azula perceived she was being treated like royalty; she always expected a certain standard of care from her servants. This was one of those rare times in her life in which she was aware she was being treated with reverence. The services weren't lavish, the clothes weren't finely made, but clearly these things were done to the best of this people's abilities for this very purpose.
Clad as she was, they sat her in front of a great bonfire in the center of the village. Its flames were hot and yellow. As she looked at that fire, Azula felt it resonate with her chi. She sensed it was ancient. Very powerful. If a flame could have a scent, this one would smell of musty ruins and age. This fire was a piece of history.
She realized what had once graced the altar atop the great pyramid of the ruined city.
"This fire," said the chief of the village, "is the first fire."
She believed him.
The painted-faced chief told stories of the first contact between dragon and man and the partnership that sprang thereafter. His story continued with intricate symbolism and fascinating detail. Any other night she would have listened with the interest of a Fire Nation princess. Tonight she fell asleep with her head on her chest.
They woke her up with roaring laughter.
"You've put her to sleep, Mani!"
Yoshi's formidable wife defended Azula. "She tamed a dragon today, you old coot. She'd exhausted. Too tired to listen to you blabber on."
The chief's face lined with a scowl beneath his headdress. "Wake up," he commanded. "We will see the dance."
Though she was dead on her feet and her body ached with every move, Azula's joy surpassed her exhaustion, and she executed the dragon katas flawlessly. For the first time, this sequence she'd practiced in bits and pieces thousands of times was accompanied by her firebending. Before she'd finished, the dragon swept down from the sky and danced behind her, adding its fire to hers.
It wasn't a delusion of grandeur. This dragon was her dragon.
When she finished, the villagers were all prostrate on the ground. She had the vague idea she would soon collapse to join them if she didn't sit down and close her eyes.
"Thank you for your hospitality," she said, swaying with exhaustion. "But I need to reach the nearest port as soon as possible."
Half an hour later, Yoshi was at the helm of the largest and fastest sailboat the little village could offer.
"How long?"
"With this wind, by dawn," he answered, his smile ever present.
Azula reclined in the bow of the boat and let her eyes fall shut. She was too tired to process much, but she had to ask, "Are you 'gone fishing'?"
He was chagrined. "You saw that? Wasn't me. My brother left it up. I guess that ruined the whole 'ancient mythical tribe' thing."
"Who are you people?"
"I guess you missed that part of Mani's speech, huh? We're the Sun Warriors."
The Sun Warriors, still alive, still living in their ancient ruins. The only way these people could have remained cut off from the rest of the world was by actively hiding. Apparently that hiding method currently was as a simple fishing village. "Why did you leave the island?"
"You tamed the reason why today." He laughed and slapped his knobby knee happily. "Round abouts twelve years ago we had visitors. The firebender touched our Sunstone and woke it right up; royal blood maybe? No one knows why his touch did it. Anyway, she hatched a few years ago." His expression soured. "And drove us away. As expected. Young female dragons can be damn nasty, and that one is the nastiest we've known in centuries. A couple of fools of our own tried to tame her, and they were a healthy snack. Now we can go back, thanks to you."
"That firebender was my brother."
He looked at her seriously. "Yes. You're Azula of the blue fire, also a naked mermaid." His grin was wide and he wagged his eyebrows, but he straightened and went wide-eyed at her glare. He cleared his throat and grinned sheepishly. "Yes, we've been wondering when you'd visit us."
"How?" she asked him.
"Your family likes our ruins. And our dragons like your family."
Azula considered for the first time Iroh's uncharacteristic title of Last Dragon of the West. She'd wondered vaguely how such a man as Iroh killed the last dragon, but he had been an avid firebender and a brilliant military tactician once. She'd assumed it all boiled down to him being young and out for glory. This made more sense; it settled in her chest as an easy truth.
"Iroh was here."
"When I was just a boy. That one was an interesting man."
"He's my father." She was surprised she said it with so much pride.
Yoshi's thin eyebrows shot up towards his naked scalp in an expression of surprise, not doubt. "Well… Mani will be interested to learn these things. All the more fitting the dragon chose you."
"Are there more dragons?"
His smile was tight with pride. "Ran and Shaw. They'll be back 'soon as their young one is gone. They're old; the oldest remaining...and a lot nicer than yours. Your dragon was probably the last egg they'll manage. We've been protecting that egg since the dragon hunt began. Now it's time for you to take over. She'll lay many eggs of her own in her lifetime. You've earned the right to restore them to their rightful place in your nation, Azula the mermaid."
"Are there dragons to breed with her?"
He smiled smugly. "There are wild ones that have escaped the hunt, probably many more than your people would ever believe. Your female'll find a mate when she needs one…or they'll come out to find her. The smell of a horny female dragon is a thousand times worse than Mani after he eats a second helping of beancurd."
"Mine," Azula repeated fiercely to herself. "My dragon."
"With another dragon I'd be jealous as all fire. Not that one. You got a handful."
She grinned fiercely at the thought. His grin reflected hers. His smile softened as he judged her exhaustion. "Sleep. I'll give you a kick when we get there."
She had no choice but to trust him as her eyes closed out of exhaustion.
Just as Yoshi promised, he gave her a couple of light kicks to wake her. Azula lifted her head off of her chest with a tired snarl in time to see the first light of dawn break across the waters. They sailed soon after into a small independent port nestled against a sheer mountain range. Azula could barely believe her eyes when she saw a Water Tribe ship docked there. If it was the contingent from the Northern Water Tribe sent in relief to their sister tribe, Azula would readily agree that she was the luckiest woman in the world.
It was possible. A strong cold-water current rounded the western edge of the northern Air Nomad islands. The cold water current mixed with the hot waters of the Fire Nation and exacerbated the hurricanes that swept the Fire Nation territories every year. A contingent from the North Pole might follow it instead of the small torturous rivers and taxed canals through the Earth Kingdom lands.
As Yoshi helped her off of his boat, he said, "By the way, we don't exist. Don't tell anyone where we are or what we do. Got it?" He slapped her shoulder with a grin; she barely contained her groan of pain.
She managed to stand upright and limp slowly across the dock and up the plank onto the Water Tribe vessel. She received a few odd looks from the people on the dock, but no one attempted to stop her.
The small crew of the Water Tribe regarded her curiously as she limped aboard.
"May I help you?" asked a handsome clean-shaven man wearing Water Tribe blue. He looked like he thought he was warding off a crazy woman. She couldn't imagine what she looked like to him: beaten and limping, wearing old fashioned commoner clothing.
No matter what she looked like, she was Azula, the Royal Princess of the Fire Nation, and she had tamed a dragon. Azula straightened, lifted her chin, and met his eyes with pride. The change in her stance made him straighten in response. His curiosity sharpened.
"I am Azula, Royal Princess of the Fire Nation. I've found myself inconveniently stranded from my wife, Katara from the Southern Water Tribe. Am I correct with the assumption you're the relief sent for the late Masters Pakku and Noakka?"
The man's expression shifted in surprise, then grief. "Master Pakku is dead?"
Her relief was sharp joy. She was the luckiest woman in existence. Imagine that: Ozai had been right about something. Of course luck was only what she made of it.
"It was a peaceful passing."
His eyes flickered from her feet to her face, reassessing her. His gaze lingered on the scar on her throat. Either her words or that scar convinced him. He bowed in the Water Tribe style. "Princess Azula, it's an honor to meet you. I'm Verack, Master Waterbender." He motioned to the tall, thin woman watching them close by. "My wife, Hama, Master Waterbender. Welcome aboard; we should arrive at the South Pole in three days."
A married couple. How fortunate. Little waterbender children would be good for expanding the Southern Water Tribe's ranks. Hopefully these two would want to sharpen their healing skills on her. The willow bark had long since worn off.
"Princess Azula." The woman, Hama, bowed. She couldn't quite mask her incredulity. "You're incredibly lucky. We only stopped here overnight. We'll be departing in less than an hour. Would you…" She sent her eyes up and down Azula's body, cataloguing her. "…like me to attend to your wounds?"
Azula wondered if she should seek out Yoshi to thank him before they departed, but his distinctive singing voice rang across the small bay from his rapidly disappearing boat. She watched that little boat for a moment. Perhaps it was better this way.
"Thank you, yes," she accepted.
Hama led her to a furnished cabin within the first hall of the ship. Azula disrobed to her provided loincloth, unconcerned at this point about being half naked, and sat down on a low cushioned seat on the floor. The room was very Water Tribe though it was a great deal more lavish than anything in the South Pole.
She couldn't suppress her groan of pain and relief as she sat down. Hama gasped at the sight of her body; she was so shocked she forgot all etiquette. "What the hell happened to you?!"
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you." That was a certain truth.
Hama looked her up and down again, at a loss. "Where would you like me to start?"
"The foot," Azula answered immediately. It was the most debilitating wound, and probably the most likely to become infected.
Hama unwrapped the binding carefully. The wound had been bleeding steadily all night, and a sticky scab attached to the binding tore from her skin painfully. The waterbender drew glowing water into her palms and closed her eyes as she cupped it against the arch of Azula's foot. Interesting… Katara always kept her eyes open when she healed.
"This is deep. Has it been cleaned?"
"Yes. That was a particularly painful event." The Sun Warrior woman who'd scrubbed her foot had used a hard-bristled brush and wasn't exactly gentle.
"Just a moment; this may sting."
Azula winced and muted her cry as a shot of pain raced from deep in her foot outward. She gasped when it eased to a dull ache. She knew well what waterbending healing felt like, but it always took her by surprise. "I'm not sure if you've ever felt a sting, but that was ten times worse than a Fire Nation hornet. And Fire Nation hornets are five centimeters long."
She'd dared Zuko to kick one of their nests once, hadn't she? It would have been hilarious watching him windmill and scream, but they'd both been swarmed. The only escape was jumping into the turtle duck pond. Ozai had found them after their screams, and he'd laughed at the sight of their swollen faces and the swarm of turtle ducks feasting on all the drowned hornets. Ursa had literally snorted fire, but she hadn't spanked Azula, who had taken at least five stings to the face. The next week had been shared misery with Zuko.
It was a wonder they both survived childhood.
Hama's lips pinched in irritation. Azula jerked when Hama's fingers brushed over the newly closed wound. "I'll have to re-wrap it. You'll need a few more healings before it's fully closed. Don't walk on it until I tell you that you can." She frowned in concentration. "You bruised your heels too."
"I fell well over fifty meters."
"How are you still alive?"
"You wouldn't believe me."
Hama frowned at the vivid, swollen bruising on Azula's shins. She hesitated. "Might I ask over the Southern Water Tribe?"
One service for another, perhaps. "When I left a few days ago, they'd landed two whales." That news netted a sigh of relief from the other woman. "The wild polar bear dog is dead. Pakku passed peacefully. Katara and I married." Hama's eyes went to her neck. It was obviously what she was looking for. "If I had been wearing it, it would have been destroyed."
"Well, we rushed for nothing." Hama seemed relieved, not peeved. "Why were you out here?" Hama raised a hand. "Nevermind. I wouldn't believe you."
"My, you are an intelligent woman."
Hama's expression soured at Azula's sarcasm. She wordlessly resumed her healing of Azula's legs. Unlike with open wounds, waterbending on bruises was immense relief. After Hama finished, Azula leaned back and heaved a sigh. The swelling had gone down somewhat, and the ugly reddish black bruising had softened to purple. She almost wished she'd been burned instead of these cuts and bruises.
"My hand and arm next."
Hama sealed the gash in her palm quickly and reduced the bruising over Azula's bicep. While there, she seamlessly expanded her healing waters over Azula's shoulder. She seemed to be flagging in energy but continued on. "The joint is strained."
"Yes." Azula sighed in further relief as that insult was soothed. Now that her pain had eased, she felt her exhaustion more sharply. Her eyelids went heavy.
"What happened to your ear?" Hama finally ventured, gently touching the lobe and inciting a sharp sting of pain. "It's been completely torn open."
Clearly Hama was waiting for another 'you wouldn't believe me'. Her eyes went wide when Azula actually answered. "A flail. Surprisingly painful for such a useless extremity."
"A flail," Hama repeated dubiously. She shook her head and didn't ask the obvious question. "I'm afraid the lobe has scabbed up uneven. Would you like me to realign it? It will…sting."
Azula frowned in irritation as she considered it. No wonder sound had been a little muted in that ear. There would be a scar, but she had no idea how uneven it was. She could take a little pain to make it look better—Katara would probably be irritated if she didn't take this opportunity—and keep her hearing as sharp as possible. "Yes, I suppose."
Hama held out her hands. She seemed to take a certain glee in saying, "This will hurt."
"What's a little sting?" Azula sneered.
The scabbing that had built up the last day was torn when Hama realigned the flesh. The sharp pain raised tears to her eyes. Almost immediately, there was itchy relief as Hama healed the cartilage. Azula leaned back in the cushioned chair and met Hama's eyes. "I cannot express my thanks enough. And I rarely thank anyone."
"I got that feeling," Hama said blandly.
Azula forgave her; Hama and Verack gave her their room and bed in the estate cabin and she put it to immediate use. She slept a deep, black sleep, and when she woke up hours later, she sat on the bed and bent heat with her breaths until each steady breath was a flicker of fire.
How was it that she'd regained her fire? Had it been the life and death situation or had her dragon's flame been the necessary spark for her tinder? Now that Azula examined her chi, she realized it was a familiar comfort. Perhaps it had always been a mental block. This was a mystery Azula decided was best not to explore too thoroughly.
Maybe it had taken the giving up to regain her fire, but in giving it up, she'd let it go. Iroh had been right…but so had Katara.
She opened her palm and called up her fire with a sigh, carefully shifting the intensity of her flame from red to blue and back again. The tiny flick of red undulated in her palm. The sharp blue was a hot jet, even this small.
However it had come back to her, her fire was a gift. She would never take it for granted again.
In all those years she hadn't been able to call her flame, she'd only seen its uses: for fighting, for light, for heat, for status, and for her brother's throne. Now that Azula held her fire in her palm again, she realized it was simply a part of her spirit. It was an aspect of her life, no more and no less. She'd been as wrong to give up on it as she had been to focus on its loss as a failure.
"I am Azula," she said quietly. Azula of the blue fire. Her name was no longer empty.
"Are you sure you wouldn't prefer warmer clothes?" Hama asked for the third time. She had changed into a full fur-lined parka with much more ornamentation than any from the Southern Water Tribe.
Azula was quite comfortable in her silk tunic and sandals. When she'd finally had energy again, she had examined her gifted clothing in more detail. The thin trim along the shoulders of the tunic consisted of hand-stitched blue dragons. The seams were straight, though the ragged edges were left open on the underside. It was both a marvelous piece of craftsmanship and a novice attempt.
This piece of clothing had been prepared for the dragon dancer probably as soon as her vicious blue dragon hatchling was old enough to breathe fire.
She could sense that her dragon was near though she hadn't seen the blue female since the dragon had danced with her for the Sun Warriors. Azula had a vague idea that their next confrontation wouldn't be as peaceful. So far, the dragon seemed content to not approach while Azula was on this wooden vessel. That would be a disaster. She was careful not to give any cues to coax a fight…not that she could practice her firebending in any capacity on this ship.
Azula had pondered a name for her beast. The custom was to give a dragon a single-syllable name, often an inanimate object: Blood, Flame, Spark, and Smoke were often used. But her dragon…
Her dragon was valuable: a symbol of the past greatness that Sozin had destroyed in many ways. Her dragon symbolized a new beginning: for Azula and for her nation. She was priceless and in a way, the first dragon all over again. She deserved a name with dignity. What that name was… Well, Azula couldn't imagine it. She'd never been very good at that sort of thing.
Now she glanced over at Hama and exhaled a flicker of blue flame instead of the moist condensation of her breath in the freezing air. "Firebenders don't feel the cold."
Hama's expression suggested she found Azula eccentric. She'd been making that face a lot the last three days. The first 'eccentricity' had been the amount of food Azula had eaten in one sitting after she'd woken from her long sleep. Firebending required energy; energy required calories; calories required food and water. Azula would never have to worry about gaining weight again. She thought of Iroh and amended her thought: she probably wouldn't have to worry about gaining weight again.
Hama sighed and came very close to rolling her eyes. "Of course, Princess."
They both watched the icy shore of the Southern Water Tribe come into view. Hama made a hushed noise beside her as she studied the village in the distance. "I didn't expect it to be so small," she said quietly.
"That's it?" Verack said as he took a spot along the railing with them. His tone betrayed disappointment. Coming from the North Pole this would seem small to them, possibly as small as it had seemed to Azula. She remembered Katara's fears and hoped these two wouldn't fulfill them.
"They've had precious little help from their Northern sister," Azula said in quiet defense.
Verack lowered his head in deference to her statement. "Unfortunately the few who came with Master Pakku to the South Pole during the war weren't inclined to stay. Noakka was the only one who did. We volunteered for this post because we knew we wouldn't betray Katara."
Katara's fears were more grounded that Azula had guessed.
When their ship settled against the ice beside the Fire Nation steamer, only three people greeted them from the shore, and two of those people were not Water Tribe. To Azula's surprise no one was actually on the ice of the bay, but the village seemed busy in the distance. Clearly Hama and Verack were disappointed not only by the small village but also by the lack of enthusiasm for their arrival. However they both brightened when Katara stepped aboard.
"Master Katara," Hama said, bowing. Verack bowed as well, but he allowed his wife to take the first greeting.
Master, was it?
Katara reached out to hug Hama. Her eyes flicked across the deck and settled on Azula's sandals. Her expression shifted in curiosity, and her eyes swept upward. Before her gaze reached Azula's face, she jerked out of the embrace and moved towards her. Hama and Verack exchanged amused looks; they knew they were invisible to her for now. Katara's expression shifted from shocked incredulity to relief. She was a marvelously welcome sight after these days without.
"Azula?"
Despite being healed and having a few days' rest, Azula grunted in pain as Katara pulled her in for a crushing hug. Katara pulled back. "What? How…?"
Katara searched her eyes. She touched Azula's scarred ear and looked down her body. She stripped out of her mitten and held her hand out to feel the heat Azula radiated to keep herself warm in silk. Katara's blue eyes flashed as her mouth curved into a triumphant smile. "You did it."
Azula reflected her smile fiercely. "I did it. You were right to make me go."
"Show me." Katara's command was fierce.
Azula stepped back and opened her palm. She commanded a small flick of red flame and turned her palm. As she did so she forced more heat into it until it was sharp blue. What was a soft flutter turned into a soft roar. Katara laughed and engulfed her in another hug. She met Azula's lips with her own. It was more a smile than a kiss, but Azula enjoyed it. When Katara pulled back, her smile was gone. Her gaze fixed on Azula's naked neck. "Where's your necklace?"
Azula hesitated. "I left it with the Avatar for safe keeping." A good thing she had, too.
Katara glanced around as if she were looking for him. "Where is he? Why are you on this ship? What are you wearing?"
And this was where things would get a little sticky. The truth would certainly make Katara angry—whether at Azula or the Avatar, she couldn't say. "We should speak of this in private."
"Now." It was a command.
"Let it be known my wife is demanding," Azula said to Hama and Verack. The couple had been watching them with naked interest, and now they looked embarrassed that their attention had been noticed.
"Azula!" That was a sharp tone, one that meant danger was imminent, especially with Katara's eyes narrowed like that...and all Azula wanted to do was kiss her and hold her close.
"Hello there!" Iroh climbed aboard with Ursa trailing behind him; trust him to want to make new friends. He greeted Hama and Verack, providing the needed distraction. "I'm Iroh, Katara's father-in-law, and this is Ursa..." His voice trailed off as he stared at Azula. His eyes swept across her clothing. His expression shifted from shock to growing excitement. He lurched past them, nearly bowled Katara over, and seized Azula's shoulders in an iron grip.
Ursa looked more surprised by Iroh's reaction than Azula's presence. Katara's jaw had dropped.
"You were there!" he said fiercely. "That was where you went?"
"Last Dragon of the West, are you, Daddy?" she sneered gleefully.
"You saw them!" There was no doubt, only joy and pride. Iroh grinned at her and laughed in delight.
"What on earth is going on?" Ursa asked. She gasped in growing horror. "What happened to your ear?!"
Iroh had said 'them'. Did he mean the Sun Warriors or, dare she guess, Ran and Shaw? "Them and it," she replied, watching his grin widen. "Did you know, the earth actually bends down at the corners?" She lifted her hand and curled her palm downward in demonstration. "Shocking to see. The air that high is a bit inhospitable and quite cold."
Iroh's grip tightened on her shoulders, and his face softened in shock. "You rode? No one's ridden in a century!"
"I've been sworn to secrecy of course."
"What is going on?!" Ursa shouted.
There was an awkward moment, and then everyone realized they'd be better off somewhere warmer for this conversation. Azula lifted her head and glanced over her shoulder as she stepped into the snow with her family. She sensed she might not make it to somewhere warmer. Somehow she knew her dragon was closing in. Was it luck or a conscious decision to make this confrontation occur on land instead of on a wooden boat?
"Oh, your beautiful ear," Ursa said.
"It's a pinna of skin and cartilage. Ears are not beautiful," Azula said in irritation. A distant roar echoed. "And it still works enough to hear that." She leaned over to kiss Katara's alarmed face. "Go to the village, and don't interfere unless they're in danger."
"Azu—" Katara's word stopped and her eyes went wide as she saw what had produced that roar. It was a beautiful expression: all-encompassing awed disbelief. Azula wondered if that was what she'd looked like when she'd realized what she was confronting on that stone bridge. Katara turned that disbelief on Azula. "What are you...? Are you going to fight it?"
"Trust me, Katara."
Before Katara could respond, Iroh seized Azula's arm to draw her attention. "Don't kill it!"
"What kind of a fool do you take me for, old man? Why would I kill my own dragon?"
His eyes went wide. Abruptly Iroh turned and grabbed Katara and Ursa and led them in a jog across the ice. Hama and Verack and everyone that had been aboard the small Water Tribe ship followed them quickly, turning wide-eyed looks over their shoulders. Sailors were stirring aboard the Fire Nation steamer, and one man pointed with a shout.
Apparently one battle hadn't been enough to tame this dragon. Why should that be a surprise? Azula's dragon would be exceptionally wild with a mind of its own and the ferocious need to fight. She welcomed the challenge. She was rested, fed, and prepared for this battle.
"Come on then!" Azula shouted roughly. "You're mine!"
Her dragon screamed again—an angry, challenging scream that resonated deep in Azula's chest. Her dragon was beautiful in this place: alien and fitting all at once. She was the deep blue of the ocean and the hot wrath of the Fire Nation sun. She turned that wrath on Azula now.
Instead of fire, her dragon charged her. Azula made a split second decision: she stood her ground and seized her dragon by the horns. The impact shuddered through her body, but she offered no resistance at first. Azula's heels skipped off the ice, and she gathered her breath and chi and exhaled a harsh combustion beneath her feet. Their speed slowed as she turned her feet parallel to the ground. Azula increased her fire until they were frozen in equal pushes. Her dragon's body undulated with each wing beat and her head was lowered like a gemsbok bull against Azula's force. Azula tightened her body, fire, and breath and pushed back against each forward propulsion.
Her fire roared behind her, a wonderful, beautiful sound of power. Ice cracked and shattered, and steam swirled up around them both.
She stared into her dragon's slit pupils and snarled. The dragon screamed in frustration and threw her head, sending Azula jetting away. Her momentum sent her upward but mainly towards the bay, and she allowed her arc to continue. She needed the ocean, not the ice to land on. Her dragon was on her heels, but Azula streamlined her body into a dive as she began her descent. She struck the cold water and opened her arms into it. The cold didn't affect her this time.
She'd always wondered if she could firebend underwater with a powerful enough burst. What a wonderful opportunity. Azula used what breath remained in her lungs and exhaled in a swirling snap of fire around her. Water became steam, and there was an explosive burst of sound as heat became fire in this moist sauna. She accelerated above the cold water that rushed in to cover the cone she'd evaporated. It was rather like surfing uphill. Moisture steamed from her clothing as she took to the air again.
Her dragon flew by her with another unhappy snarl and her tail snapped across Azula's back. Because she was oriented, she easily directed her flame—from both feet and hands, power and delicate balance and she was back!—to send her skating across the ocean back onto the ice.
There Azula continued her path, took two running strides on the ice, and spun to face her dragon in a full on assault. She would not be satisfied to remain on the defensive this time.
She'd taken for granted that this dragon was hers. She would have to be certain during this dance. She would hold nothing back this time.
Lightning would be a good start. She tore her poles apart, hovering on that odd precipice of pain and exhilaration. Her bolt was powerful, shattering, white and deadly, and when her dragon redirected it, it dispersed in the salt water in an impressive display of arched energy across the surface. The dragon tried to match her lightning, but Azula seized it to her and sent it away in a single move. Immediately she dropped to her hands and kicked a powerful wave of flame that shattered ice and made the ocean hiss. Her dragon barely dodged the attack and could only scream in retaliation.
She flew by Azula, but Azula anticipated the sweep of her tail. She leapt and spun in an easy dodge. On her turn through the air, she used the trajectory of her body to coax her fire wheel attack. Her dragon flattened to the ice in alarm. Azula's fire wheel spun over the dragon and sank into the ice. The attack sliced off a curved portion of the shore that frothed as it sank down into the sea, splashing cold ocean water onto the perfect edge of ice that remained.
The dragon was hissing in anger now. She tried to retaliate, but Azula commanded her own dragon's flames and threw that retaliation right back in her dragon's face.
This battle didn't last nearly as long as the last one, but it was twice as fierce. The ice melted and cracked, and several huge portions shattered from the shore to float away. Azula sweated with exertion and from the heat of the dragon's flames. Their dance exceeded the power of any firebending Azula had ever yielded. Her firebending had never been stronger, and her dragon knew that.
She was not dancing to learn this time. She was dancing to teach.
Her dragon beat a retreat, and Azula knew she had to make one definite move to entice and dominate in one. She took five heavy breaths to gather her chi. With her feet planted, Azula exhaled and threw her fire outward in a ballooning curve: blue and hot. She repeated her move in the rhythm of the fire that spiraled around her. And again, though this time she softened her flame to red. Blue then red then orange, in every heat and intensity she could manage until her sweeping spiral of fire was a massive roaring furnace that expanded around her.
Her dragon turned from its retreat and approached quickly. She flew in an opposing spiral above Azula's flame, watching the display, and finally gave a roar: not in anger or aggression but in pure joy.
Azula's fire spun away and fluttered out, leaving a strange melted spiral pattern in the ice. Only the ice around her feet was intact. Her dragon swept down onto that melted portion and settled on her belly in front of Azula. The noise she produced was a trilling croon, clearly a submissive stance and sound. The ice steamed where it touched her scales. Her head lowered in the bow.
Azula resigned herself to it, drew her leg over that powerful scaly neck, seized her horns, and was prepared for the rapid rise this time. She focused not on the ground but on the sun. She turned her face into its heat and took deep breaths of the lower atmosphere to sustain her as they flew to the freezing empty air of the upper reaches of earth.
She saw the frozen ice and tundra and dark blue ocean and the huge bay that sustained the Southern Water Tribe. At the height of their climb she saw the tails of the aurora.
The dragon turned her head back down and they were falling, racing back downwards. The powerful wings opened much later than before, and their entry back to the ground scattered snow and ice with her heavy downbeats. Her dragon landed close to the wide-eyed gathered crowd of the Southern Water Tribe.
Azula climbed off this time with little difficulty. She stood on her own two feet though she realized that she'd reopened the gash on the bottom of her foot at some point. Blood had soaked through her sandal and stained the snow red beneath her foot. Now that she saw it, she felt the pain involved and shifted most of her weight off of it.
The dragon turned towards her. Her golden eyes were fixed on Azula, her torso expanded in inhalation, and Azula had a moment to mourn the doubtless antique clothing she was wearing—she'd wanted to save it and put in a museum or the royal gallery but—
She was doused in fire. Her clothes burned off in a flutter of smoke, and the ice around her shattered and boiled.
This time, Azula didn't faint. She took that fire as her own and threw it back to her dragon. The momentum of their flames turned into an upward spiral that jetted from them in flutters and flashes of brilliant color, colors that Azula had never realized fire could be. It was both more beautiful and more powerful than her earlier display.
Her fire was a gift, and in that moment, Azula knew she'd given that gift back: to Katara for sending her on a dragon chase, to her dragon for showing her she could, to her parents for preparing her to be worthy of the gift, and to the strong people here who had accepted her so readily.
Her dragon shrieked for joy, and Azula echoed her dragon with laughter. Their flame fluttered out, leaving only its impression on her retinas. Her dragon slithered around her so gently. Her scales were warm against Azula's naked skin. Her golden eyes blinked happily as they met Azula's. "You're mine," Azula said again.
Her dragon crooned. Then, just like that, she unraveled and took wing. Azula sensed her hunger; she was going to hunt. How strange to be able to tell. It was a tickle in her mind, a shared sensation that she knew wasn't entirely her own. Azula's dragon had been too preoccupied following her across the open ocean those last few days to address that hunger, and now that their drama was settled she needed sustenance.
The dragon left Azula on the ice, naked as the day she'd been born with a crowd of curious villagers gaping at her.
She wasn't a princess for nothing. Azula limped towards them with utmost dignity. Katara painted a path across the ice and skated to her. Behind her, Iroh and Ursa had to approach on foot. Katara pulled off her parka jacket, and Azula accepted it to cover her body.
Katara's hands were shaking; her eyes were wide. She touched Azula's face and arm as if making sure she was real. "What was that? What the hell just happened? I thought you were… When it breathed on you—"
"My dragon required more discipline than I'd realized." She touched Katara and kept her voice calm, hoping to sooth her wife. "We haven't destroyed the shore, have we?"
"I can fix it," Katara said. What a characteristic statement.
She urged Azula to sit and swept water into her hands to close the gash on the bottom of Azula's foot. Funny, that didn't hurt nearly as much as when Hama had healed it.
"I can't believe it," Katara whispered. "I don't know whether to be terrified you were almost killed or awed because…" She shook her head. "A dragon! And your firebending was so beautiful. It's like you've been practicing all these years."
"My dragon," Azula echoed fiercely, accepting Katara's help to rise. Her burst of pride was as much for that as Katara's awe at her firebending. "I want to show her to your tribe."
"I'm pretty sure everyone in the tribe saw that. And a lot more of you than I ever wanted them to see," Katara muttered. The joke fell flat because her tone was still fragile. "Is it coming back?"
"The dragon? She's hunting." Azula glanced around at the ice and snow. "It will probably take her some time to find something to sustain her here. Maybe she'll bring it back here. I've always wanted to see a dragon eat."
Ursa approached, panting from her run. She yanked Azula into a tight embrace, provoking a wince. "I don't know how much more of this I can take! You have got to stop scaring me half to death. I think I just lost ten years of my life."
Iroh walked up more sedately. He shook his head as he stared at Azula. "A young dragon. Where did she come from?"
"Apparently Zuko couldn't keep his hands to himself and awakened her in her egg. Trust him to leave me the hard part." She reminded Iroh, "Last Dragon of the West, were you?"
"I had to protect them," he said. "Zuko never told me that he'd seen them too. I wondered, since he used the Dancing Dragon form, but he never told me."
"I can't believe he learned that form from statues." Azula took a breath and winced. "If you don't mind, I'd like to find clothing before we have this long, drawn-out, presumably dramatic conversation."
Before her parents could agree, Katara took over. "Come on. I'm giving you a full check-up. You're covered in bruises."
Azula should have expected that; Katara was forever and always going to be her main healer. They retreated to Katara's hut—Katara cowed all of her gaping neighbors with several pointed glares—where she settled Azula in the bedroll. She frowned as she examined the deep gash in the bottom of Azula's foot again. Her fingers palpated the wound, causing Azula to jerk and hiss. "How did you do this?"
"Fulgurite."
"What?"
"Fulgurite. Crude glass made from lightning striking sand. Left behind from my first little dance with my dragon."
Katara gave a long sigh and muttered something that sounded like 'dork' under her breath. "When I use the word 'dance', killing and death aren't involved."
"I would have only been in danger if I hadn't realized it wasn't a fight. I had to show my dragon I was worthy of its flame."
"Always the warrior. You'll need to be careful with this for the next few days or no amount of healing will keep you from having a painful scar," Katara said quietly. She concentrated on the nasty green bruising on Azula's shins, reducing the discoloration. "You've bruised the bone," she said.
"Dragon tail."
She fingered the scar on Azula's palm. "I cut it climbing."
Katara carefully examined the ring of still bruised flesh around Azula's right arm. "Dragon mouth."
"She tried to eat you?!" The question was accompanied by a sweep of pallor. Azula put her hand on Katara's face, and clarified, "I'm not sure what she was doing; she wanted to carry me off somewhere. I didn't let her."
Katara rested her head against Azula's shoulder momentarily. Then she regarded Azula's ear critically and touched it gently. "How did you manage this one?"
"I stupidly set off a booby trap. Rather embarrassing, actually. It was just a tripwire, which I should have easily detected."
"Booby trap," Katara echoed. Her expression went tight. "A booby trap? Where was Aang for all of this?"
Well, right back into a sticky situation. Azula hedged, "He had something else to attend to."
"He left you somewhere with booby traps and a dragon," Katara repeated back to her, digesting her words with growing ire.
Azula hesitated, uncertain of how to proceed. The Avatar was Katara's trusted friend; Azula wasn't sure if Katara would believe her if she lied. Azula certainly wouldn't trust herself in this situation. Katara looked back at her unhappily. "What aren't you telling me? Did something happen?"
Either she had to lie or tell the truth. Azula was unwilling to do the former. "He took me where he and Zuko went, and he left me there."
As Katara's face shifted in anger, Azula continued, "Because I sent him away."
"You sent him away," Katara repeated slowly, a sign of rising temper. "Why did you send him away?"
"I wanted to do it for myself."
Katara sighed deeply. "Did he warn you about what you'd find?"
"No. I sent him away, and he left."
"He left you at that place without telling you about a dragon and booby traps?"
Azula pinched her lips, surprised and a little relieved at the direction that Katara's anger had taken. "He may have gone back for me, but I didn't exactly sit around twiddling my thumbs waiting for him. It's possible he assumed the situation was different where he left me." The Sun Warriors had lived on that island when he'd last been, apparently.
Katara studied her. She shook her head again. "I can't believe he didn't insist on staying with you. I don't understand..."
Katara hadn't seen the Avatar's face when he saw her betrothal necklace.
"I want to show my dragon to your tribe." Azula squeezed Katara's hand, and Katara looked at her with an almost helpless smile. She asked, "Is it safe?"
"Now she will be." Azula paused. "Though I would be inclined to eat first."
Katara laughed, kissed her gently, and set the teapot and a pot on her fire pit to boil rice and tea. Azula pulled on her carefully folded clothes and forewent the parka jacket. The wool and fur were soft on her skin. A knock sounded, and Iroh, Ursa, and Ana ducked into the hut. Ana gave her a little hug that Azula returned gently. They didn't speak much as they shared the meal. So much for a dramatic conversation. Ana was happy to let the adults sit in their shocked silence. She hummed as she ate rice with her fingertips.
Less than an hour later, they gathered everyone up and marched inland of the village, hopefully far enough away that her new dragon wouldn't destroy anything valuable.
Azula stood in front of everyone currently on the continent: Water Tribe citizens and Fire Nation sailors alike. This was her turn to give a tale, a new story. She paced the tundra grounds and considered how she'd start. It had been easier with the Sun Warriors; they'd already known from the beginning. She paused to look at the villagers.
These were strong people, close-knit and loyal. They were crafty and clever, and she knew they made great warriors. These were good enemies during the war, but they were better friends now. To have shifted between those roles so seamlessly was breathtaking. She wanted these people to be hers too.
She wouldn't apologize for the war. An apology would be useless; it would mean nothing; and it would cheapen what they'd lost and her own feelings towards it. She could never condemn war or violence in its essence; they were the foundation of her country. But she could communicate that these people had nothing to fear from her or her nation again.
Her voice was strong but rough from her exertion that day. "The very first fire given to man was a gift from the great dragons of old. It still burns today. Dragons have been my nation's symbol of power and wisdom since its founding, even when my people rode them like beasts of burden. Yet my great-grandfather Sozin led the Fire Nation in the hunt for dragons, wiping them out. At least that was what I thought until my journey.
"I can't tell you where I went or most of what happened at that place. But I'll tell you what I can. I hoped to find the secret to firebending. I stood upon a stone bridge, looking into a black cave. A scream emerged from that cave." Azula threw her head back and shouted, breathing fire with her voice. The crowd gasped, but surely they knew she could produce much more impressive displays.
Azula smiled at the memory. "And I found the so-called secret to firebending. I saw a piece of living history: a dragon. A living, breathing dragon—a feral female that wanted to kill me...as was only fitting, of course. In that frozen moment standing under the assault of her fire, I realized that there was no secret at all to my firebending. Either I would firebend or I would die. It would have been a good death, dying to a dragon's fire, but I'm not interested in dying yet.
"I took her flame as my own, and in that moment I knew the truth. Fire isn't destruction, pain, or power, as Ozai had always taught me. Fire is a celebration of life, as water is the essence of it. I turned my fire on that dragon and that dragon turned its fire back on me. We exchanged flames but never burned one another. It wasn't an Agni Kai. It was a dance."
She took a step sideways and turned on her heel, throwing out a fist and with it her blue flames. They torched out in a clean, straight line. She slid back in the other direction, opening her feet to kick a swathe of blue fire that swirled over the ground and rolled upward into the sky to disperse many meters away. The ground hissed and steamed with the meeting of her flame. In her next kata, her dragon swept down from the sky.
Cries rang out from the crowd as her dragon rolled behind her and belched out flame in time with her own. The next pass, her dragon threatened to engulf her in fire, and Azula broke it and retaliated. They continued the faux fight, which was nothing compared to their earlier duels. This was for fun. Her dragon was playing, crooning and spinning flamboyantly as she flew back and forth.
Azula let her dragon dictate when their dance had finished this time. These were formative moments to ensure the dragon remained her own. She was careful to command the direction of their flames so that no one was in danger. With each burst of fire they exchanged, she felt a little securer in her relationship with the animal. Finally her dragon landed to circle her. She stopped with a loop of torso wrapped loosely around Azula and faced the crowd with curious eyes. Azula placed her hand on the dragon's graceful forehead.
"I welcome any suggestions for her name. I'm terrible at naming animals," she said, enjoying the wide-eyed looks among her spectators. Azula scratched her dragon's eye-ridge, and her dragon made a low rumbling noise of pleasure. Her third eyelid flicked up, and she turned her head into Azula's caress.
Ana was wide-eyed with apparent delight, held tight in Katara's lap. Azula had no doubt Katara was having the same thought she was: if she let Ana up, Ana would want to pet and hug the dragon. She pointed at Azula's dragon and said, "Rakka!"
Rakka, the icy sea serpent that carved the grooves of the South Pole as it broke the island from the mainland. The animal was a protector of the Southern Water Tribe, not a threat. Azula glanced at her dragon. It was a fitting name in more ways than one for her blue and white dragon. It would be a good break from the tradition of naming dragons after silly inanimate objects. "Rakka. That's a good name."
"Is it the last dragon?" Hakoda asked quietly. He was reverent, and she could see by the tears that rose to his eyes that he understood part of why she accepted the name.
"Not the last, the first." Azula stepped aside as newly christened Rakka unwound her body. She kept her attention on her dragon, still uncertain about her reaction towards other people, but she seemed more interested in the snow than the crowd. "I was told there are others, wild ones that have escaped the hunt. When Rakka—" She liked the name the more she spoke it—"goes into heat, they'll come out. And then there will be more dragons."
She would come into heat at least once every two years and hopefully produce a viable egg each time—unless she differed in that. It was not beyond the realm of possibility given her odd ears. Hopefully there were enough wild dragons to keep the line from inbreeding. They would have to keep careful track of this dragon's bloodline, but Azula was certain dragons would once more be the symbol of the Fire Nation.
Laughter rang out from the crowd. Azula glanced over her shoulder and watched as her dragon gave a low groan as she writhed in the snow. She sneezed a hot burst of blue flame. That was a habit Azula would have to break quickly. Rakka rolled onto her back, stretched her short legs, and opened her great wings flat against the ground. Her golden eyes closed as she enjoyed the cold snow on her scales. She was aptly named…a dragon that liked the cold.
And still a young dragon, apparently.
Through the rest of the day, Rakka punctuated her exploration of the South Pole with visits back to Azula. The dragon's trips shortened each time and she stayed close to Azula more and more. She seemed to gather focus on Azula being the central point of her existence, as was only right.
There was no violence towards anyone. Azula went out of her way to present the children to her dragon personally, especially Ana. She held Ana against her chest and let her dragon take long breaths of the girl's scent.
"This little person is to be protected," she told her dragon. Hopefully her tone would convey her meaning...perhaps her emotions would transmit. Maybe it was silly, but if her bearded cat could so quickly learn little people who sometimes pulled her tail were not to be hurt, a dragon certainly could. Bright golden eyes regarded Azula. Rakka's pupils constricted and dilated again as she focused on Ana.
Ana was fearless. She giggled and patted Rakka's snout gently. What was a dragon after a man-eating polar bear dog?
Katara was nervous about the dragon nosing her little girl, but she didn't protest it. She was also a little nervous about presenting herself to the dragon. Rakka gave Katara one sniff and crooned.
"I suppose you smell like me," Azula remarked smugly.
Katara flinched but remained admirably still as Rakka snuffled her body and then wound a loop of sinewy torso around her legs. Katara touched the bristles that grew from the dragon's chin in surprise. "I didn't know they grew fur."
"Some do, but she's exceptionally hairy for a dragon. Maybe it will grow out as she ages." Azula considered her dragon's face and reached out to smooth her finger along the velvety edge of one pinna. "I've never seen a depiction of a dragon with ears. Yet she has them."
"She's beautiful," Katara admitted. Azula felt a puff of pride. Katara continued on an odd note: "I hope she doesn't eat Tonk."
"You will not eat my bearded cat," she told her dragon firmly. Ana reached out for her mother, and Azula handed her over. Rakka blinked at her lazily. Her third eyelid slid up as Katara and Ana began to rub her cheeks. Human touch must be such a new sensation, wonderful to this ferocious animal.
Ursa was surprisingly fearless as she reached out and touched the dragon's broad muzzle, tracing over the whorls of heavy scale that defined the top of her nose. "Beautiful," she said. "Absolutely beautiful. I never in my wildest dreams thought I would see a living dragon."
Iroh was fighting tears as he regarded the dragon. "I still can't believe it. And her flame is your own."
It was true. In all the violence they'd shared, Azula had not once been burned by her dragon.
He carefully offered his hand for Rakka to take a breath of his scent. She snuffed at him and allowed him to place a hand on her muzzle. "A female dragon," he said quietly. Even with his hand on the dragon, he didn't seem to believe her real. He smiled even as his expression broke in tears. "I am so proud of you, Azula."
"I had to take after you in some way."
He jerked his hand from the dragon and seized Azula in a hard hug. Azula returned his embrace. She had to say, "Thank you for being my father."
He cupped her cheeks and stretched to kiss her forehead. His beard tickled her skin. "Thank you for giving me that chance."
Ursa, ever dramatic, was weeping openly. She seized them both and dragged them into another hug. Azula laughed and humored her mother's emotions. She held out her hand, and Katara took it, sharing her smile. Ana's little fingers reached out to catch Azula's sleeve. She giggled as Rakka's whisker brushed across her face.
It was a new day of a new age, sure to bring changes that would have lasting impacts upon her life. Azula would need her family to see the coming days through. Even with the joy she felt now, she knew there would be sacrifices to honor this gift.
-TBC-