Love it, hate it? Let me know!
The sky was dark when the fire nation ship touched shore. A lone child looked out at the barren land, cloaked in furs whose scarlet colors stood out against the ice like blood.
"Come, my daughter."
Nine year-old Azula looked at her father, who was wearing nothing more than his usual firelord robes. Internal firebending did the rest, and he looked as comfortable as if he was standing in his throne room, and not the middle of the South Pole. He glanced at her wraps, and Azula felt her heart drop at the derisive look in his eyes.
Master Blazon had ordered her not to attempt internal heating quite yet, and while his authority wasn't enough to stop Azula, his stories of those who'd attempted the advanced maneuver and died gruesome deaths made her hesitate. She squared her shoulders and forced herself to meet her father's gaze. "Shall we go? Chief Hakoda will be waiting."
"I shall go. You will remain behind."
Azula felt a wave of panic. "What? But you promised we would do this together!"
"The Fire-nation has to look strong. We need this alliance, and the last thing I need are those barbarians laughing at you in those clothes. They wear less than I am now, and you're obvious inability to handle the cold will make them think us weak."
"No! Father, I'm not weak. Master Blazon said—" He was walking away, the gangplank getting closer and closer as he got smaller and smaller. Azula tripped over her boots, stumbled, and righted herself as she tore after him. "Father, wait. Wait!"
He refused to turn around, and Azula felt tears pricking at her eyes as he dismissed her, again. "Father, look!" she cried desperately. Without waiting to see if he obeyed, she tore off her coats and furs until she was wearing nothing more than a thin dress. The icy air made her head spin, and she focused desperately on her firebending, willing the flame to come alive.
Her stomach ached, her head spun, but slowly, so slowly, the flame grew, until Azula felt the dizziness recede and her body warm. She glanced hopefully at her father, but he had turned around and was walking away again. "Father—" she shouted, but he didn't stop.
She was about to give up and surrender to her tears, when his voice reached her ears. "We will not be late to this meeting, Azula. If you cannot keep up, then remain behind."
She ran until she caught up with him, willing the fire in her to stay steady, knowing that a flare could damage her fatally. Her feet ached as she struggled to keep up with her father's long strides, but she refused to fall behind. I will be strong.
XXXXXXXXXX
Chief Hakoda's throne room was a tent, and Azula had more ladies-in-waiting than the group of people inside. She remembered her father informing her that they would be going alone, because the Water Tribes believed no treaties could be made without trust, and that leaving their guards at home would be a very important step in establishing peace. She'd asked what they'd do if the tribe tried to take them hostage. Her father had smiled, truly smiled, and said, "We'll kill them all." Pausing, he added, "We might do so anyway, except that would mean less consumers of Fire-nation goods, and less backward barbarian slaves."
Looking around at the room, Azula didn't think these people looked like "backward barbarian slaves." They were dressed differently, and their skin was a golden brown rather than a pale white, but their eyes were fierce, and their bearings, proud. There was only one man—the Chief—and besides him the room was empty, save for a little girl who sat by the chief's side, hands folded demurely in her lap, and her brother.
"The Chief's daughter, Katara of the Southern Water-Tribe," her instructors had explained in her diplomacy lessons, "She's only a year younger than you, your Highness, and a skilled waterbender as well as a healer." Her brother the prince, who was a bit older than she was, sat next to the water-tribe princess. He fidgeted as he swung a little knife around. Zuzu's better behaved, Azula thought with satisfaction, feeling a rush of pride at her older brother, and handsomer too.
"We're here today to settle the peace treaty between the Fire Nation and the Southern Water-Tribe." Chief Hakoda's voice was deep and powerful, and it shocked Azula out of her thoughts. Straightening, she watched as her father and the other man bowed to each other before sitting back down again.
"We have considered your offer, Firelord Ozai," Chief Hakoda said formally, "You're offer of increasing the trading relations as well providing military support should any of the other nations decide to attack is extremely generous, and your nation has a reputation of being wealthy and prosperous, but as for your request of my children's prolonged stay as your guests—"
Azula felt the fire inside her dwindle as she grew bored, and instantly her body started to ache from the cold. Gritting her teeth, she fanned the fire again, willing it to rise like it had before. Nothing happened. Azula felt her eyes widen in panic as she struggled to light the flame inside her. The wind was colder now, sharper, and the snow that had coated her bare legs and arms began to prick like needles. Desperately, she summoned all her energy and willed herself to burn—and then a fire exploded within her belly, and she collapsed to the ground.
The last thing she saw was her father's look of utter disgust before everything went black.
XXXXXXXXXX
Azula knew she was dying. Master Blazon's stories of fires eating away at her heart blazed into her mind, and she struggled to put her inner fires out, but her body wasn't responding. She couldn't open her eyes, couldn't twitch her arms, couldn't breathe—and then suddenly two small hands covered her stomach and she felt the fires cease, leaving a trail of jagged pain in their wake.
After awhile, the pain too started to fade—slowly at first, and then faster. Azula felt her eyes flicker open as the last of the burning vanished, and found herself looking up into the blue eyes of the little water-tribe princess. Katara.
"She'll be fine, now," the boy, Sokka, she remembered her teachers coaching, He'll be heir one day. He doesn't look very kingly now, with his chin stuck out proudly and a goofy smile on his face. "Katara's never lost a patient."
"We are very impressed and thankful for your sister's assistance," her father's voice was emotionless, but Azula could hear the disdain as he looked at her and said, "I…apologize…for my daughter's weakness. I should not have brought her."
"She is very young to be attempting something as advanced as internal firebending. It is not weakness for her to fail."
"Failure is weakness in the Fire-Nation," her father returned evenly.
"Which is why I will not be sending my children there."
Azula watched as her father's eyes narrowed at the Chief's words. "Consider carefully, Chief Hakoda," the Firelord hissed, and Azula could see the snow by his feet melting as heat poured from his body. "The Fire-Nation is not an enemy you want to make."
"That is a risk I will take." The Chief stood up, and beckoned to his children, "Come, Katara, Sokka. I believe it is time our guests left. Is Princess Azula healed?"
Little fingers wiggled experimentally on her stomach. "Yeah, Father." The little waterbender got up, holding a hand out to Azula. She caught her father's disapproving gaze—never show weakness—and pushed herself to her feet on her own. The younger girl took a step back, studied her face, and then nodded. Taking her older brother's hand—he was sputtering about "ungrateful Fire-nation brats"—they walked back to their father, who put protective arms around the two. Azula's heart ached at the sight.
"Come, Azula," her own father's voice held nothing but suppressed rage, "The next time we meet," he said to the family, "It will be in war. The Fire Nation will conquer this tribe." He spun, stalking out of the room. Azula gave the family one last glance and saw that Katara was watching her with a mix of sadness and hope in her big eyes. Breaking free from her father's hold, the little girl stumbled up to her, pressing something into her hand before running back.
"Azula!" her father barked from outside, and Azula rushed outside. It was not until they reached their ship and she was safely in her cabin that she opened her hand and saw what the Water-Tribe princess had given her. It was a smooth, milky-white stone, just small enough to fit into her palm. The Southern Tribe's symbol for friendship, Azula thought, and felt her throat tighten. She could hear her father roaring up on deck, giving orders and sending messages back to the capital that they were now at war.
"We'll destroy them before the month is over," he vowed, and she buried her head in her pillows, remembering the gentleness of Katara's hands and the way her father had held her like she was his entire world.
XXXXXXXXXX
Seven years later, sixteen-year old Azula watched as her father finally destroyed the Southern-Water Tribe's last stronghold, leaving nothing but ash in his wake. The South Pole's native people lay dead and dying everywhere—no mercy had been given to the tribe that had refused to surrender and had held its own for far longer than anyone could have expected.
Azula fingered the white stone that hung around her neck. She wondered once again why she'd never been able to throw the thing out, but whenever she tried she always remembered soft hands and found her body wouldn't obey her. Zuko came to stand next to her, his face hard. "Father is enjoying himself," he murmured for her ears alone, "He's a monster, and not fit to rule."
"He's our father," Azula murmured back, "And you're talking treason." Zuko met her eyes unflinchingly, and Azula looked away first. "Save it for the Rebellion, Zuko. They're the ones you need to lead. Besides, Father's coming back."
The Firelord was coming back, eyes madly gleeful as he blew a last stream of fire at a twitching corpse. The woman died, burnt beyond recognition, and Azula felt the smell of burnt flesh hit her. She refused to gag. Wordlessly, the trio walked back to the ship, and Azula frowned as she realized no guards were coming down to greet them.
Two figures leapt out, and Azula barely had time to duck before two shards of ice shot past where her head had been seconds before. Zuko was already tackling her, using his body to shield her from their attackers, but Azula pushed him off. "We have to fight," she hissed.
Zuko nodded, and shot a stream of fire at the two figures. One was obviously a boy, and he threw himself at Zuko, ducking under the fire-whip and coming up under with a sword. The other had a piece of cloth tied around her mouth, and her eyes were ice-cold blue as she faced the Firelord, ignoring Azula.
"You killed my father," the girl whispered, and Azula felt a pang of memory shoot through her mind. Oh, Agni.
The waterbender froze the Firelord's feet to the ground and sent shards of ice straight for the man's throat, but Firelord Ozai easily broke free of her impromptu shackles and sent lightning shooting at her. Katara threw herself out of the way and sent another volley of ice at the man.
Azula watched, horrified and fascinated at their battle, watching as Katara melted the snow under the stronger man's feet, making his shot of fire go wild. The Firelord's eyes were maniacal as he surged back to his feet. "You, will, die," he hissed, preparing for another shot.
"Stop, or the boy dies!" Zuko called, and Katara froze. Azula glanced over to find her brother holding a sword to Sokka's neck, and then heard a soft thump. Her father had taken advantage of Katara's brief loss of focus and shot her straight in the chest. The girl was healing herself, but her eyes were closed and she was clearly unconscious.
Azula caught her breath as her father raised an arm, prepared to end the girl's life. "Stop!" she cried, throwing herself in the way. Her father paused. "Azula, do not tell me you are asking me to spare her," he said dangerously, fingers crackling with energy. Azula heard Zuko's sharp intake of breath. If they fight now, Father will kill Zuko. We're not strong enough yet.
She shook her head. "No, I don't want you to spare her. I want her as a slave." Turning to look at Sokka, she pointed at him, "That one too." She looked at her father coldly. "You're always saying that death is the best reward for barbarian, that it satisfies their pride. Well, let me destroy their pride. By the time I'm done with them, they'll wish you'd killed them."
Her father's eyes narrowed, and Azula forced herself to return his suspicious gaze steadily. Finally, the man gave a short laugh. "I was beginning to think you were as weak as your brother. I'm glad I have one heir with courage. Bring them, then."
XXXXXXXXXX
The first thing Katara saw when she woke up was a pair of golden eyes. "Good, you're awake," the fire-nation girl said, "I was beginning to worry."
Katara flew to her feet, prepared to waterbend her way out of wherever she'd been taken, only to find that she was shackled. Sokka groaned beside her, and Katara felt a wave of relief that he was safe, and they were together. For now. "Where are we?" she demanded, "Why did you spare us?"
"You're a powerful waterbender," the girl replied emotionlessly, "And a healer. You're brother has also proven himself as a skilled warrior. Not many could have held out as long as he did against Zuko." The girl hesitated. "You don't remember me, do you?"
Katara focused on her face, the angular features, the dark hair, those eyes—she caught a glimpse of white stone around the older girl's neck. "You're the fire-nation princess," she said, surprised, "The one I saved before the war started. Azula." Her eyes blurred as she remembered, "I wish I'd let you die," she spat, "My father'd probably still be alive right now if I had."
Azula shook her head. "No, he wouldn't." Her voice was blunt, but her eyes were sad, and Katara felt her hatred lessen, just a little. "I'm sorry for my father's actions," Azula continued, "But you and your brother are still alive."
"The reason of which, you haven't said yet," Sokka rasped from beside her. Katara dropped back to his side, pulling her chains as far as possible so she could touch him and heal the blood on his head.
Azula nodded, "Like I said, you're excellent fighters." She hesitated, and suddenly walked forward. "I'm sorry I can't free you completely, but Father would get suspicious if he found out, and there's too high a chance of someone coming in unannounced." Taking a small key from her pocket, she loosened Katara's chains. "Your brother's fine. Zuko had to knock him out before he got himself killed, but other than that he's not injured."
Katara ignored the girl, running her hands over her brother, checking to make sure he was alright. To her surprise, she found a neat bandage around the boy's head. "What—"
"We need you," Azula interrupted, "We have fighters, but we need non-fire-nation commanders to gain the support of the Earth Kingdom, Air Nomads, and the Northern Tribes. Father won't stop until he's destroyed the entire world, and we need all the help we can get if we're going to stop him."
She pulled out the smooth, white rock, and handed it to Katara. "You gave me this when you healed me," she said quietly, "Do you want it back?"
Katara hesitated, and looked at her brother. Sokka met her gaze squarely. "Do what you think is best," he said, "I've got your back."
Katara turned back to the princess. "I don't want it back." Her eyes hardened to ice. "We'll help with your rebellion, but when the time comes, I want to be the one to drive the knife into your father's heart."
Azula nodded. There were many people who wanted that honor—first and foremost, Zuko—but they could work that out later. Holding out her hand, she let a cold smile steal over her features. "Katara, Sokka-welcome to the Rebellion."