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Chapter Text

It was as if time had frozen still.

The clouds up in the sky, the turtle-ducks in the pond, even Zuko – her sweet, innocent Zuko – was deadly still and silent, as if any sound could crack open the earth and swallow them up.  There were no servants around at that time, as to provide the Royal Family with some much-needed peace, and Ursa was grateful in that moment for that.  Because, against all the odds, her own three-year-old daughter did something that was unfounded in the Fire Nation – let alone in the Royal Family.

Her own daughter had water-bended.  The water bubble stayed floating, still in the air, as the toddler gazed at it in awe.  She wasn’t aware of the danger she was in.  After all, how could she?  She barely started creating sparks.  Three was too young, much too young to understand.

Ursa snapped back to life, rushing from her son to her daughter in a frantic, and called out her name.

“Azula!”

The water fell back to the pond with a splash as Azula jumped, as if frightened by her mother.  There was a moment of silence, before she grinned. “Zuzu!  Zuzu see!”

Zuko was old enough.  He understood what bending more than one element meant – it was taught in the Fire Capital Academy, it was in all their history books.  His sister was the Avatar. 

And she was in very great danger if anyone else knew.

“Zuzu!” Azula pouted.  Her attention turned to her mother. “Ma!  I make the water!”

Perspiration ran down the back of Ursa’s neck as she stared down at her child, skin deathly-pale and eyes wide.  Azula tugged at the hem of her robes almost desperately.  She looked so… small.  It was a thought that had only crossed her mind when Azula was still a newborn, and looking at her now it amazed herself that she could ever think otherwise.  Her daughter was tiny, she was fragile.  Just one wrong move and she could break.

Ursa fell to her knees and grasped Azula’s shoulders. “Azula, whatever you do, don’t tell this to anyone.”  Her grip tightened.  Azula’s lower lip was trembling. “Especially not your father!”

Understandably, Azula appeared confused, almost as if she had no idea what her mother was saying.  A delicate frown upon her features, she let out one soft, “why?”

Because your father is a monster – Ursa thought, but never dared to say aloud.  Should she tell this child – her own child – the consequences of her being the Avatar?  This was something her own grandfather had gone through, yet he only learnt of his legacy at sixteen, according to her mother.  Her Azula was a mere three-years-old, certainly not old enough to know of words such as ‘execution’ and ‘imprisonment’.

She swallowed. “If you tell anyone – they’ll – they’ll come after you Azula.  Very bad men will come after you.”

“It okay!” Azula grinned. “Zuzu will save me.”

Ursa spared a glance at her son.  He was blushing furiously, albeit his skin was still ashen as fear for his sister took hold.  There was a tense air that only the two of them could understand, and Azula was oblivious to.  Shaking her head, she turned back to Azula. “Those bad men would kill Zuko and you!”

An unhappy sound passed Azula’s lips.  Brows furrowed, and cheeks puffed, she stiffened. “They would?”

“Yes!” Ursa said. “So listen to me Azula – it’s very important that you tell no one about this.  We’re lucky only Zuko and I were here to see this.”

Zuko walked over to the two of them, and took Azula’s hand in his own. “I won’t let anything bad happen to you, Azula.”

Azula stared at her brother’s hand, before her face broke into a smile. “Okay!” she said. “Play now.”

She tugged Zuko along the pond with her, skipping merrily as Zuko stumbled and struggled to keep up with her.  It took only a few steps for Zuko’s protests to turn to stifled giggles, until both children were laughing.  Ursa stared at her children with bated breath, before she let out a sigh.  A relieved sigh, yet one weary of what was to come.

If anyone else were to find out – save for perhaps Lu Ten and Iroh – then Azula’s life would be in catastrophic danger.  Death would be the kindest possibility granted to her.  Having heard nightmare stories from Ozai about what they did to the last Avatar, an Earth Bender locked up in the depths of the Royal Capital, she knew what laid instore for her daughter.  Imprisonment.  Execution.

But there was something more, something that Ursa feared above all else.

Ozai.

Power was all that he seemed to seek, ever since his second-born came into this world.  He would still play the act of father, but he was almost (almost) a good as an actor as Ursa.  She saw it in his eyes whenever Zuko created fire, whenever Azula made sparks with her little fists.  He saw their children as nothing more than tools.  And if he found out one of his children was the Avatar?

They would no longer be a child, much less human.  They would be a sharpened blade, an extension of Ozai’s own arm, forged to bring about the destruction of the world.  Balance be damned.  Spirits be damned.  Azula would become his very own brand of poison.

Ursa swallowed.  Suddenly she felt oh so very cold.

She could run away with Zuko and Azula.  Somewhere far away from the Capital – Hira’a sounded appealing, but it would be too obvious.  As much as she would love to return home to Ikem, it would be the first place Ozai would go looking.  No, it had to be somewhere outside the Fire Nation.

Ba Sing Se.  It was the only logical choice; the impenetrable city has stood the test of battle and time.  Not in almost ninety years had any Fire Nation soldier managed to breach its walls.  It was the only place the Fire Nation couldn’t touch.  The one place Ozai couldn’t touch.

Her gaze fell upon her children.  Zuko was swinging Azula around, the pair laughing as if nothing in the world mattered.  As if there was no war occurring at that moment.  She would do anything for their happiness.

Tomorrow, then.  Tomorrow she would begin the plan.  The plan to leave for Ba Sing Se.

For now, she had some children to attend to.

“Zuko, don’t be so rough with your sister, dear,” she said, walking over the grass to them.  With her hands tucked into her long, flowing robes, she almost looked as if she were gliding.  The pair of siblings paused mid-spin, Azula being held up by her pits.

“But mum,” Zuko placed emphasis on the word, “how can Azula ever hope to be a firebender if she can’t handle a little spiiiiin.” He spun around with her in his arms.

“Yeah!” Azula agreed. “I have strong fire!”

She wrestled out of Zuko’s hold and landed on the grass, before throwing a punch to the air.  Sparks flew out of her fist, and smoke rose from her hand.  Zuko clapped – it was a sight he had seen many times before, but it still never ceased to amaze him.  His little sister, producing sparks.  Although she hadn’t fully acquired the ability to bend fire yet, he still believed in her.

Ursa smiled. “I know you two will be fine benders one day.”

Turning her attention to Zuko, while Azula practiced her sparks, Ursa kneeled down to reach his eye level.  There was a tense pause between the two of them, as they occasionally glanced at Azula.

“…Mum, what’s going to happen to Azula?” Zuko whispered.  She could hear the trembling in his voice.

Ursa sighed. “I don’t know.” A moment of silence. “You know not to tell anyone.”

“I won’t,” he declared. “I’ll protect her.”

His mother ruffled his hair, causing his cheeks to flush in return. “You’ll be a strong leader some day.”

He nodded, still blushing furiously.  It was only when Azula called him over to do, as she referred to it, ‘fire magic’ that he left Ursa’s side.

Ursa stood by the pond, watching her children play with cautious eyes.  She would protect them both.  She will protect them both.

Not even Ozai had a chance against a mother fearing for her child.

The political landscape of the Fire Nation Capital was just as much a warzone as the Earth Kingdom was, albeit in a silent matter.  Where out in the war generals used bending and swords and spears, in the Capital City they used poison and blackmail and ill-spread rumours.  One wrong move on the battlefield could cause you your life – one wrong move at court could cause you and your family’s reputation.  With a bonus assassination thrown in for good measure.

It came as no surprise that Ursa, who while was many persons away from the throne was still eligible in some sort of situation to become the political ruler of the Fire Nation, was wary of gifts.  It wasn’t something she ever had to worry about back at Hira’a.  After all, a gift in the mainland of the Fire Nation wasn’t likely to be drenched in poison.  This one was.

To Princess Ursa – from your beloved nephew

Even in the battlefield, Lu Ten had such elegant calligraphy.  Elegant – and recognisable.  This could easily be forged.

Ursa sat by her desk, having lit a stick of incense to calm her nerves down.  The letter and the package laid unopened.  The moment she contemplated opening it, something froze her in her tracks. 

What if someone knew? 

It wasn’t possible, of course.  Otherwise, Azulon would have already asked for Azula’s imprisonment.  But the lingering what if stayed in the back of her mind constantly, draining her, killing her from the inside out.

She was so entrapped in her own thoughts she didn’t notice her own husband walk into her study.

“You’re unusually paranoid,” Ozai commented.  Ursa supressed a gasp, jolting up straight, and turned her head to the prince. “I saw you get that letter this morning.  From Lu Ten, was it?”

She sighed. “Apparently so…”

“And yet I sense hesitation.” He was right behind her, wrapped his arms around her neck.  The feeling it gave was so… unbalanced, as if the universe didn’t know if he was coming for an embrace or to choke her. “Why not open it?”

“It could be a trap from the Earth Kingdom.”

“Get a servant to open it, then,” Ozai suggested.

“Ozai!”

He stepped back, removing his arms from her neck, and cocked a brow. “Then open it.  It’s from Iroh’s spa – son,” he sneered, “so I’m sure it’s completely safe.  Probably just some tea.”  A tilt of the head. “Unless you doubt the ability of the Fire Nation couriers?”

“Of course I don’t,” Ursa muttered, flushing.  She picked up the letter first and, with shaking hands, opened it.

Nothing happened.

She let out a sigh of relief – she was expecting toxins to dig into her skin the moment she opened the letter, but thankfully it appeared to be safe.  Too caught up in her relief to notice Ozai rolling his eyes, she took out the letter and began reading through it silently, her brows rising higher and higher the more she went along.  Ozai tapped his foot impatiently.

“Well?  What does it say?” he asked, a certain sharpness to his tongue.

Ursa side-eyed him for a moment, before she read aloud, “Dear Ursa, I hope this finds you in good health.  The battle at Sei Yung has proven to be weary, and with every passing moment dad and I have grown more homesick.”

Ozai snorted. “Simple fools.  They were the ones who offered to go.  Father could have easily just let me go and conquer the Earth King – ”

Cutting him off, she continued, “Have my cousins been well?  I pray we will win the war before they grow up – there’s so many places in the Earth Kingdom they could visit when it’s under our rule!  What’s left of it, at least.” She chuckled, and, to her surprise, so did Ozai. Perhaps he had a sense of humour after all – a twisted, depraved sense of humour, but one at that. “On another note, dad and I will be returning to the Capital soon.  Apparently Fire Lord Azulon – ”

“Just call him grandfather.” Ozai scowled.

“- has grown paranoid about the return of the Avatar, and he wants us at the Capital.  Give Ozai and my cousins my regards for me.  From Lu Ten.”

It seemed, despite Ozai’s age, that he was not against being childish.  In one quick moment, he snatched the letter from her hands and set it ablaze.  Ursa watched with a frown as the last of embers and ash drifted to the floor, marring the rug. 

“Ozai!  What did you do that for?” she snapped.

He harrumphed. “Think about it,” he said, as if the reason wasn’t something petty. “He just delivered us what is no doubt confidential news.  If word were to get out that father” – he spat the word out – “were growing paranoid, and that the Royal Family were seeking the Avatar – who knows what the Earth Kingdom spies would do.”

Ursa pondered his point for a moment.  It was true that no one in the Palace would want word to get out of their Lord becoming, as Lu Ten described it, ‘paranoid’, but still – that was no excuse to ruin her rug.

Avatar.

Her skin paled.  They were already starting to search for the next Avatar.

For Azula.

Standing up suddenly, perspiration running down the back of her neck, she breathed heavily.  Ozai cocked a brow at her before furrowing them, stepping closer towards her.

“Are you alright?” he asked in a rare occurrence of sympathy.

She nodded, her heart beating too loud and too fast to hear. “I-I just remembered – Zuko would want to hear the news about Iroh coming home!”

“That’s a strange reaction to have.”  Ozai tilted his head.

“He was curious about the letter,” she lied. “I’ll have to go tell him what was in it.”

“Very well,” Ozai said. “In that case, I’ll inform Azula then –”

“No!”

Ozai froze, confused yet angry that Ursa would dare speak to him in such a way. “What?  Does it shock you that I happen to care for my children too?”

She bit back a snide remark. “It’s just that – Azula is too young.  She wouldn’t understand if it came from you.”

“How hard could it be to inform her that her bumbling old fool of an uncle is returning from war?”

“There.  Right there.  You just said about three things she wouldn’t understand,” Ursa said. “For goodness’ sake, Ozai, she’s never even met Iroh!”

She left out a comment remarking Ozai’s insistence on calling Iroh an old fool.  It certainly wasn’t the first time this happened, and she didn’t want him poisoning their daughter’s mind with more Ozai Propaganda, as she has come to call it.  The couple glared at each other, one heaving heavily and the other poised yet enraged.  It was only when Ozai brought his hand to his forehead and ran his fingers through his scalp that he allowed his shoulders to relax.  He sighed.

“If that’s what you think, so be it.  You can tell the both of them.” He walked over to the windowsill, leaning against it as he gazed outside. “Believe it or not, I do care for them.”

Ursa didn’t know whether she believed in his moment of weakness.  It was always a battle in its own, figuring out what was going on inside her husband’s head.  Still, she took the rare opportunity and slowly approached him, her hand brushing against his.

He stared at her, and he looked oh-so-very young.

Her lips touched his cheek. “How about a trip?”

“Ember Island?” She nodded. “It has been a while…”

A low chuckle erupted from his throat.

“You always know how to cheer me up.”

She smiled.  She didn’t know if she was faking it or not.

Ursa left the room, feeling more confused than ever about her husband, their relationship, and –

- Just what in the name of Agni were they going to do about Azula.

Chapter Text

When Zuko was two-years-old, his uncle left their country to fight in the battlefront of the War against the Earth Kingdom, along with his cousin.  As hard as Ursa tried to explain it to her son, he never seemed to grasp this concept.  All he understood was that Uncle Iroh was gone, cousin Lu Ten with him.  Needless to say, the size of his mother’s tummy also seemed to have bewildered him, as he would point it out with incoherent babbling whenever he could (much to Ursa’s chagrin). 

She was looking after Zuko in the gardens, resting on a chair with one hand holding her stomach, feeling her baby’s kicks.  It was a feisty one, even more so than Zuko, who was currently chasing after a butterfly.  Almost as if the baby was throwing a tantrum already.

“Alright, alright, little one,” she murmured, catching the attention of Zuko. “Settle down.”

The baby slowly settled down and rested, leaving Ursa in peace.  She exhaled.

“You’re going to be a fussy little one, aren’t you?” she said.

“Ma!” Zuko wobbled up to her chair, holding onto the railings with as much force as a two-year-old could muster.  His eyes were wide and bright as he stared at her stomach.  Obviously, something was ticking in his head.  That small, child’s brain was working its magic.  Ursa smiled down at her son. “Ma big!”

She felt her smile drop before she forced it right back on. “No, Zuko, I’m pregnant.”

Zuko titled his head. “Preg-nan?”

“It means you’re going to have a sister.”

“What sister?”

“A girl for you to play with.”

A disgusted frown crept its way to Zuko’s face, as he narrowed his brows and scrunched up his nose. “Don’t want.  No sister!” he declared, crossing his arms. “Ma euf fo me.”

It took Ursa a moment to register his words as ‘Ma enough for me’.  With a sigh, she brushed her son’s hair with her hand, and rested her head back on her chair. “You’ll be a good brother.”

He was immediately distracted by a butterfly again.

“I hope.”

A week later, and after many hours of screaming, sweating, blood, and all the niceties that came with labour, Ursa laid panting on her bed, the midwife cleaning off her child (her daughter, she reminded herself, with a content smile.  She had a daughter) and a nurse tending to her.  Just like Zuko’s birth, Ozai had not appeared, though she suspected he would come to see his daughter.  She just hoped he wouldn’t comment on the ‘spark in her eyes’, like he had with Zuko – or lack thereof.  Whatever that meant.  Still, her daughter was healthy and living, and that’s all that mattered to Ursa.

Finally the cries of her daughter settled down, and the midwife passed the girl to her.  Ursa took her daughter into her arms.

She was perfect.

The baby stared at her with wide amber eyes, bloodshot from tears yet still curious about this strange new person she was seeing for the first time.  Her gaze was fixated on Ursa’s eyes, and Ursa smiled in return.  Obviously the baby had no idea what was going on – but it didn’t matter.  Ursa rocked her gently.  She was alive, well, and Ursa had a daughter.

There was a knock at the door, light rapping from someone obviously trying to hit with as much force as they could muster.  The nurse peeked open the door slightly. “Sorry, but no visitors –”

“Ma!” Zuko called out.  He stumbled into the room, closely followed by a grown man. “Ma ma!”

Ursa greeted her son with a smile before her gaze drifted upwards and her expression dropped. 

“Ozai.”

Her husband nodded curtly. “Ursa.”

If Zuko noticed the odd tension in the room, he didn’t make a comment about it.  Instead he quietly approached his mother’s side, gazing at the bundle in her arms with amazement.  The baby’s eyes quickly switched fixations from Ursa to Zuko.  Her brother stood agape, staring at the baby, before he reached out and touched her cheek.

“Small…” he whispered.

The baby said nothing in return.

“Say hi to your sister, Zuko,” Ursa said.

Zuko was dumbfounded. “Hi.”

They stayed like that for a brief moment, mother and son admiring the miracle of life that was staring at them with no idea about the world.  Such a blissful moment could not be interrupted by anything.  Well, almost anything.

Ozai stood behind Zuko, eyeing the child with a sharp gaze.  He seemed to be studying her, as if looking for something for the baby to do.  It was only when Ursa coughed that he spoke, and, to her surprise, with admiration in his tone.

“She’ll make a fine firebender,” he announced. “There’s a spark in her eye.”

The corners of his lips curled upwards, and Ursa couldn’t tell if it was genuine or not.

“What would you like to name her?” she asked.  They had to sign the birth certificate soon – the nation was waiting to hear news of the next royal.

“Azula.” There was no hesitation. “After my father.”

There it was.  The hidden, deep-rooted desire to impress and be noticed by his father, shown off by their very daughter’s name.  But Ursa was too tired to argue against it – it was, after all, a fine name.  One fitting for a princess.  She glanced at her daughter – her Azula – in her arms, and repeated the name.

It sounded just right. 

Perfect, like Azula.

“May I?” Ozai asked, reaching out with his hands.

Ursa knew she couldn’t refuse him.  She never could refuse him. Sighing, she wearily held out Azula and handed her to him, the little bundle looking all-too-confused about what was happening.  Ozai took the baby from her, making sure to support the head, and stared down at Azula with a straight face.

He never acted like this when Zuko was born.  Perhaps out of some sense of deep-rooted jealousy for firstborns – he always did admire himself far too much.  When their firstborn came into this world, Ozai had been with her, of course, but he did not hold Zuko, nor was he the one to name him. 

A small, gurgled noise erupted from Azula, and the bundle began moving.  Eyes wide and panicked, Ozai handed the baby back to Ursa, not wanting to deal with a crying babe for now.  Or ever, for that matter.

Ursa had rolled her eyes when he left, muttering something about a war meeting.  Zuko remained behind with Ursa as she began rocking Azula in an effort to calm her down. 

He stepped forward, leaning against the bed, and reached out with chubby hands to poke Azula’s cheek.  As if a miracle had happened, the babe stopped crying to stare at Zuko.  Zuko stared back.

“Hi, A-zhu-a,” he said.

“A-zu-la,” Ursa corrected.

“A-zu-la.” He pronounced every syllable slowly. “I Zuko.  Zu-ko.”

Before Ursa could tell Zuko that she was too young to say anything, he grabbed Azula’s tiny hand in his own.

“I big brother.  You small.  I big.” He nodded slowly, as if expecting her to understand a word he was saying. “We fire.” His tone suddenly turned serious, and he turned to his mother. “Azula small, but I big.”

Ursa nodded.  She didn’t understand a word he was saying.

“Big… p-potek – small…” he scrunched up his face at the middle word.

“…Protect?” Ursa tried.  Zuko’s face lit up.

“Protect!” he exclaimed. “I protect Azula!”

It was only when her vision blurred that Ursa realised she was crying.  Wiping her eyes with her free hand, she beamed at her son, proud that he had such a protective streak despite being so young.  And with how small and fragile Azula was, it made her all the more happier.  Azula needed her brother, just as Zuko needed Azula.

“I’m sure you will,” Ursa chuckled.

Word had gotten out later that night of the birth of Azula, and news quickly spread across the country.  Within the next month, Ursa and Ozai had received hundreds of mails from the nation’s finest nobles congratulating them on their child’s birth, and honouring the new princess.  But the only letter Ursa cared about came at the end of the month, one lone letter from the Earth Kingdom’s warfront.  From Iroh.

Iroh’s letters were always as sincere and thoughtful as the man himself.  Yet there was always a sense of danger lurking beneath them, underneath the macabre jokes he cracked and the ink that seemed to be rushed against the parchment.  Ursa always had the impression, when he wrote from the warfront, that he was constantly in a hurry to write; for any letter could be his last.

Even then, in the letter she read from him, she sensed the scent of death lingering on the parchment.  Iroh congratulated her on her successful birth, and told her how much he would love to see his beloved niece, but the war was simply taking far too long for him to come home anytime soon.  She wished the war would end soon, as all citizens did, so that Iroh and Lu Ten could return and she could at least have someone in the palace to talk to.  As it stood, she had Zuko, Azula, and Ozai for company, and while she loved Zuko dearly he wasn’t very keen on speaking about politics, the war, or Pai Sho, and Ozai was Ozai.  Azula, on the other hand…

Ursa sighed.  She loved her daughter to the ends of the Earth, but she couldn’t help but think to the danger she was in.  Every passing moment was a chance someone could kidnap her – or worse, Ozai could find out the truth about his daughter.  Whatever destiny had in store for them, it certainly wasn’t going to be an easy path.

It took almost three years for Iroh to return home.

The ship’s arrival to the harbour was met with much cheer and celebration.  Of course, the whole capital wanted to celebrate the return of their beloved crown prince and his son, especially after their latest exploits in war.  Both of them, in particular Iroh, were herald as heroes to the public, and none were more excited to see their return than Ursa and Zuko (Azula, too, though she didn’t quite grasp what was going on).  Ozai stood by them too, in order to greet his older brother in his father’s stead.  Firelord Azulon did not intend to meet his son at the port; the risk of assassination was far too high for the elderly man.  Of course, this wasn’t the excuse the messenger had used when informing Ozai of his task – if Ursa recalled correctly, it had something to do with war meetings and councils.

Ursa and her family stood at the Royal Plaza, Zuko standing awkwardly between a stiff Ozai and an elegant Ursa, and Azula held in her mother’s arms.  Every time Azula pointed towards the steadily approaching boat her mother would jolt, Zuko would swallow, and the pair would discreetly look for any abnormal occurrences in the sea.

Luckily, nothing happened.

Supressing a sigh of relief, Ursa found herself beaming as the ship docked into port.  The crowd erupted into cheers when the hull of the ship fell down, and their crown prince stepped out.

Iroh looked much older than he had the last time they spoke.  That much was evident, just from the lines on his face and the sullen expression he wore.  But as soon as he caught eye of his family the corners of his eyes wrinkled, and he flashed a grin, holding his arms out for the welcome.  Lu Ten trailed just behind him, murmuring something in his father’s ear.  The two glanced at each other before bursting out laughing.

Finally, they came face to face with Ursa and the others, Iroh standing shorter than his younger brother, yet his body was more built.  He paused for a moment, peering at his brother, and stifled a chuckle.

Ozai’s eye twitched. “I fail to see what is so funny here.”

Wiping at his eye, Iroh grinned at his brother. “Lu Ten and I took bets on – ah, never mind.  It’s good to see you, my brother!”

“At least tell me why you’re laughing like a baboon-owl.”  Ozai sneered. “Did you lose your wit in replacement for some,” he glanced Iroh up and down, “body fat?”

“These are muscles.  Muscles!” Iroh said, holding up his arm and clenching it.  Indeed, they were muscles – but there was a large amount of body fat in there too. The family paused.

They laughed.  Ozai seemed to be forcing his, and Azula looked rather confused and more interested in Ursa’s hair than anything else.  Lu Ten walked up to his father’s side and crouched down so he was eye-level with Zuko.

“And how’s my cousin been faring?  You been good at school?” he asked.

Zuko nodded and grinned. “I’ve been doing basic firebending techniques, but my Sifu says if I can keep this up I’ll be able to master a kata in a year!” he exclaimed, throwing out a punch in the air.  A puff of smoke arose from his fist – he obviously held back. 

Lu Ten gaped at his cousin. “Really?  I didn’t even get to the basics until I was eight!” A lie.  Lu Ten had been a firebending prodigy.

Blushing, Zuko stared down, suddenly interested in his shoes.

Iroh smiled at him, before his gaze drifted to Ursa – and the toddler in her arms.  Reaching out to give Ursa a peck on the cheeks, he caught the attention of Azula. “This must be my beautiful niece,” Iroh said. “Azula.”

“Say hello, Azula,” Ursa said.

Azula took one good look at Iroh and scrunched up her nose. “No.”

“Show respect, Azula.”

Ozai’s cold voice sent shivers down Ursa’s spine, and it seemed to do the same for Azula.  The young girl suddenly snapped alert. “Hewwo,” she said.

“Hello Uncle Iroh,” Ozai corrected.

“Hewwo Unc-ew Eewoh.”

She looked to her father for approval.  Ozai smirked in return. “Learning how to speak already – she’s a smart one.”

As Iroh complimented Azula, Ursa felt their words drown out by her heart racing in her chest.  What she had just witnessed – Azula’s absolute obedience towards her father, the need to impress him – that scared her more than anything.  Especially now considering the circumstances of Azula’s nature.  Spirits, if Ozai sunk his claws any deeper into her, Azula would be lost.

“So, what do you say we head back home?  We have much to talk about,” Iroh said.

Lu Ten nodded. “I’ve missed sleeping on solid ground,” he sighed wistfully. 

The family headed back for the Palace, Ursa feeling very much relieved that nothing happened.  No sudden declaration of the Avatar’s reappearance, no waterbending, just… normal. 

But as she stared at the backs of Iroh and Lu Ten, as the former conversed with his brother and the latter chatted about swords with Zuko, she couldn’t help but feel worried.  For there was one question lurking on the back of her mind, ever since she received the letter from them.

Could she trust them?

Part of her screamed ‘no’, while another part begged for her to get help, as much help as she could in sneaking Azula and Zuko out of this wretched palace.  While she trusted Iroh with her life, as well as Lu Ten, she didn’t quite know if she trusted them with Azula’s life – or the Avatar’s.

She would have to wait to find out.

Chapter Text

Hey all, it's been a while.  I'm sure you're all anticipating the next chapter of this fic - and believe me, I am too!  Unfortunately, university and struggling to keep up my GPA got in the way, as well as my laptop dying on me (I can't even right click anymore, much less use half the keyboard).  To top it all off, I lost my notes for this fic.  I would like to apologise for the hiatus, and ask that you stick with me for a little while longer.

However, upon rereading this fic, I realised that my writing has vastly improved over the course of the last year or so, and I believe I can make this story better.  There are things I don't agree with anymore, and things I do like.  So, for the next few months, I will be rewriting this story and hoping to post the first chapters around July, with a consistent schedule after that.  I hope you can all understand.  I'll be keeping this fic up as a relic, and I'll give one more update when I post the revamped version of the story.  

Thank you guys for supporting me, it means a lot.