When Zuko is eighteen, he visits his uncle at the Jasmine Dragon.
It's at the deep end of night. The stars burn above, and the lights flicker in the teahouse. It's quiet, except for the garbled noises of Ba Sing Se's nightlife below them.
His former home hasn't changed much. Still, It's definitely bigger than the days of when he was a refugee. He walks in, and absorbs the nostalgia; the fragrance of green leaves, the wooden floor and tables.
Zuko had told his uncle that he was coming. And he had told him that he was on short notice.
What he didn't tell, was that he brought Azula.
She is standing behind him, eyes half closed. She's in a long plain green dress that sways and blends with the background. Her hair falls down to her shoulders. She's quiet. As if her lips are stuck to each other. She doesn't say anything. In fact, she hadn't said anything the whole trip. Zuko swallows, then looks away.
The wood creaks as they walk into a secluded room. His uncle is inside. What would he think? Azula follows loosely behind.
When they arrive, his uncle is sitting on a low rocking chair. He looks at him and greets him cheerily.
Eventually he looks in the corner of the room and sees Azula. His face frowns, but still he greets her. She doesn't say anything back.
"She's been like this for a while," Zuko says.
His uncle nods slowly. "I see. Perhaps we can discuss this over tea?"
Zuko pauses, but sits on one of the open wooden chairs. "Come on, Azula."
She walks out of the shadows and does as he says. She sits down, her hands on her lap. His uncle raises his eyebrows.
Once all their drinks are poured, Zuko begins.
"I don't know what's wrong, I've checked with all the doctors," he says. "She's unresponsive. She can't talk."
"Hmm."
"It's weird ... and scary, Uncle."
"I see."
Zuko pinches the bridge of his nose. "Uncle, I know I'm asking a lot, but-"
"My nephew, you bring me with a tough situation," his uncle says, shaking his head grimly.
"I know I do, but I don't see any other choice." Zuko grimaces. "I mean, I can't just leave her in that jail cell. It's ... it's just wrong."
"Zuko, there are many people in those jail cells whose actions were better than Azula's," he says. "If you set her free, then how is it fair for them?"
"But we're not setting her free, we're just - rehoming her."
His uncle raises his eyebrow.
"Listen, I just, I can't see her like this."
"You care for Azula?"
"Of course, she's-"
"Family." His uncle nods. "I understand. But then what about your father? Will you rehome him too?"
"No, of course not," says Zuko, rubbing his temple. "I mean, that's different, I -, dang Uncle, you really know how to hit a man when he's down."
"I do not. I merely just state what this means," his uncle says, rubbing his beard. "Your reason cannot just be family, but something else."
He always speaks in riddles, Zuko thinks irritably.
"My nephew, truly, what is the real reason you care for her?"
His uncle looks at him. Golden eyes that reach into the soul.
Zuko looks up at the ceiling. "I - I don't know. I just feel that it's my responsibility as her older brother. It was never my fault what Father did, but ... it's maybe mine for what she did."
His gaze falls on Azula. Her face is hollow, emotionless. She stares at the floor.
"It's not your fault, my nephew. None of it is."
"Still, it's my responsibility. It's just the three of us right now. That's our family. Don't we need to stick together, Uncle?"
His uncle breaths out smoke. He sips his tea, and puts the cup down. "So it is."
"So what is?"
For a while, there's silence. Zuko peeks at his uncle's face. He's thinking. What's he thinking? His Uncle rocks back and forth, frowning, then stopping, and frowning again.
Finally, he looks at Zuko. "Well..."
"Well?" The former prince looks up eagerly.
"I do need more workers." His uncle smiles.
"More work- so you'll do it?"
He nods. "Yes, my nephew. I'll do it."
"Yes!" Zuko stands up from his seat. "Thank you Uncle."
"There is nothing to thank me about." He looks at Azula. Her face steers down. "It's like you said, it's just the three of us. I've cared for you, I'll care for her. Perhaps, even she will learn the beauty of tea."
He takes another sip.
That ... might be too far.
Zuko leaves immediately, and all that is left are the two former Fire Nation royals.
"So, how are you feeling, my niece?" He asks.
Azula doesn't answer. Her eyes trace his body.
Very quickly, Iroh finds that this Azula is obedient. He tells her to wait in the dining room as he prepares a bed on the floor for him to sleep. She does as he says. He bats his eye. The only thing that's the same is that she's still efficient.
When he's done, he tells Azula to sleep in his bedroom. She walks inside. The bed is fluffy and warm. Most likely far better than the prison floor she used to spend her days in.
Perhaps, it's her biggest show of emotion when she falls into the bed quickly and covers herself with the blanket. He smiles.
Iroh turns off the lantern. Before he shuts the door, he says, "Good night, beautiful lotus."
A week passes, and Iroh figures out Azula's routine. She wakes up early in the morning, eats the breakfast he prepares for her, and goes outside.
He often finds her under the cherry tree that overlooks Ba Sing Se. It must meaning something to her, he thinks, but doesn't inquire.
In the afternoon, she comes back for a meal. She likes to eat them quick, then leave for her room (his former bedroom). Iroh doesn't look in there much, but when he does to clean, he finds books sprawled out on her bed.
So she's still reading. He notes that for the next time he visits the flea market.
Iroh serves her his tea. "Drink it. It's good for your health."
She stares at it for while. She twistes the cup, like it some foreign object. Then she sips.
Later on, when he's cleaning the dishes, the wood creaks behind. Azula is standing, cup in hand. It's empty.
She points at his teapot.
He smiles. Then he pours her tea until it graces the top rim. Extra, for the crown princess.
Two weeks pass. In the middle of the day, after Iroh comes home from shopping, he finds Azula trying to make tea.
She is boiling the water with her fire, which burns orange. When she sees him, she immediately drops the cup. It shatters on the ground. She blushes and looks down.
So she knows nervousness. He chuckles.
"It's okay, my niece," he says. "If you want to know, I'll teach you. Do you want to know?"
She looks at him. Then at the cup. Finally, Azula nods.
Iroh, the Dragon of the West, can't be happier.
Teaching Azula isn't much like teaching Zuko. This version of her is more obedient, and he can already see her urge for perfection. Her first attempt she throws away, her second she does the same. Her tenth though, she takes a sip, smacking her lips. She pauses for seconds, then eyes her uncle.
She offers the cup. Iroh takes a sip.
That day, in his bathroom, almost throwing up, he decides he needs to teach her more.
In the night, Iroh hears a banging from her room. He rushes there immediately, lamp on his hand. When he enters, he sees Azula sitting on the bed.
She is sweating and breathing heavily. She glances up at him, and turns away.
He comes over, and sits by her side.
"A nightmare, my niece?" He asks.
She wraps her arms. A yes?
He doesn't ask about what it is about, nor wonder. There is a song he knows that calms him. But will it calm her? He places a hand on her forehand. It's not a fever.
Iroh starts slowly. "Leaves from the vines, falling so slow..."
He feels her body relax. Her hands no longer clasp the blankets.
"Like tiny fragile shells, drifting in the foam. Little soldier boy, come marching home..."
Azula's head falls on his shoulder. It's quite heavy, he notes. He looks out at the night sky.
Heavy is the burden of her sins.