Chapter Text
Izumi was never particularly excited to celebrate her birthday. It was a day of mixed emotions knowing that while her family celebrated her coming into this world, they were reminded of the sharp pang of losing her mother on that day as well. Nonetheless, her grandfather Iroh had insisted on throwing a party to celebrate her 17th birthday. Nobles from the outlying islands, diplomats from the Earth Kingdom and Water Tribes, and of course her father’s friends and their families who were essentially her extended family. The palace, usually quiet and peaceful (as she and her father preferred) was bustling with guests. Her father had been so busy greeting guests and addressing some Republic City business with Sokka and Aang that she had barely seen him that day. So, she decided to take a walk to his office after she knew he had finished meeting with Sokka and Avatar Aang.
As she walked down the hallway, she overheard two of the noblewomen, a governor’s wife and her daughter, visiting for her birthday festivities talking with each other in the portrait gallery.
“I just hope she won’t be like her forefathers, with the Fire Lady curse,” the mother says.
“Fire Lady curse?” the daughter questions.
“Haven’t you noticed, dear, that all of the Fire Ladies who gave birth to bad Fire Lords have died in childbirth,” the mother answers. “Fire Lord Sozin’s mother died when he was born, as did Azulon’s. Lady Ilah died when she gave birth to Ozai. General Iroh’s wife died when Prince Lu Ten came. Princess Ursa barely made it through Princess Azula’s birth, and of course you know that Lady Mai died when the Crown Princess was born.”
“It seems the spirits had it out for the Fire Ladies that brought bad men into the world,” the daughter replies.
“Indeed,” the mother says “For our sake, let’s pray it’s not an omen about our next Fire Lord.”
Izumi’s breath hitches. The mother turns and sees her. Izumi recognizes her as Lady Niko and her daughter Ichika.
“Your highness, I hope you are well,” Lady Niko says with a bow. Izumi clenches her fists. What an asshole she thinks to herself.
“Good evening,” she says bitterly.
“We were just off to retire,” Lady Niko states. If she has any suspicion that Izumi overheard their conversation, she does not show it. Izumi says nothing. “Well, good evening then.” The women bow again before walking down the hallway.
Izumi is left alone in the portrait gallery. Her father had the portraits of the imperial Fire Lords removed long ago, before she was born. Instead, they were replaced with paintings of more favorable parts of Fire Nation history. There was one of Avatar Roku, one of her grandfather taking back Ba Sing Se, of her father redirecting lightning, and most recently of her Aunt Azula discovering the true nature of fire and being gifted a dragon egg. Even still, there were not enough new paintings to replace the old, and black curtains hung in their place.
Izumi finds herself reaching out to touch the heavy dark fabric and remembers the first time asking about them when she was maybe 8 years old.
"Why are there dark curtains on the walls in the portrait gallery?” Izumi had asked at dinner
“There used to be paintings there, but I had them taken down,” Zuko explained.
“Why were they taken down?” Izumi asked.
“They were of bad men, and I did not want them on display,” Zuko explained. “I didn’t need the reminder of their poor examples. And I did not need them setting an example for you to aspire to,” he answered.
“Well, I will not be bad. Girls are not bad like boys are,” Izumi said cheerfully.
“Girls can be bad, Izumi,” Azula says.
“But I’m a girl and I’m not bad. And so are Aunt Kiyi, and Aunt Katara. They are all very nice,” Izumi states, somewhat defensively. “You are not bad.”
“I used to be bad, very bad,” Azula responds.
Zuko looks at her across the table. “You don’t have to now-”
“She’s going to have to know sooner or later” Azula cuts him off. Azula didn’t talk much about her past, and for Izumi, Azula had always been one to chastise her for being mean. Izumi could not imagine Azula as anything other her stern and wise aunt.
Azula and Zuko are having a conversation with just looks, like only people with secrets can. Izumi looks between the two of them. “Know what?”
“Izumi, I know we have not taught you much about the war yet, but during the war, I was a bad person,” Azula starts. “I hunted down your father and grandfather to try to bring them back to the Fire Nation as prisoners, I chased Bumi and Kya’s mom and dad, Sokka, and Toph across the earth kingdom, I burned Uncle, I put Suki in prison, I tried to drill a whole in the walls of Ba Sing Se, then I actually took over Ba Sing Se, I killed the Avatar, well briefly, I had your mom and Ty Lee locked in the Boiling Rock, and then when my dad tried to take over the world and told me I could be Fire Lord, I tried to kill Zuko and your Aunt Katara when they tried to stop me. Even before the war, I was never nice,” Azula finishes. She sighs “Don’t believe anything is the way it is about you because you’re a girl, Izumi. Anyone is capable of destruction.”
Izumi is quiet. She looks at her aunt, her fire bending teacher, her fiercest protector, the woman who walks her home from school every day, who brushes her hair every morning, who tucks her in at night when her dad has too much paperwork to do, who is the closet thing this motherless child has to a mother. She cannot reconcile Azula’s confession.
“Dad is that true?” Izumi asks.
“Izumi, where else would he have gotten the scar on his chest? That was from when I tried to kill him,” Azula responds before Zuko can.
Izumi does not want to believe these things about Azula. “Well, if you were so bad, then how did the family pass the People’s Approval every year?”
“We did not have People’s Approval before me. That was something I created,” Zuko explains.
“So there used to just be uncontrollably bad Fire Lords and Fire Families?”
“Yes” Azula and Zuko say in unison.
“But we’re different, we learned from their misdeeds,” Zuko finishes. Izumi pulls her hand back from dark velvet. A door opening down the hall pulls her from her thoughts, and she starts towards her father’s office. As she walks down the hallway, she cannot shake the thought that she might be predestined for destruction.
“Is he with anyone?” She asks the guard at the door when she arrives.
“No, your highness. Master Katara, Councilman Sokka, and Avatar Aang just left. Would you like me to announce you?”
“Thank you, but no need. It’s just me,” she tells him.
“Of course, your highness,” he says with a polite nod.
When she walks in her father is staring, with a wistful but melancholic look, at a small ink portrait of himself and Mai that was commissioned shortly after they were married. Her entrance pulls him from whatever thought or memory he was lost in. The thought of him sitting in here alone and thinking of her mother only augments her anger and unease, and it quickly settles in her as sadness.
“Hey, turtleduck,” he says softly and with a smile when he sees her.
“Hi,” she replies, her voice barely above a whisper.
“Sorry, I missed dinner. Sokka, Aang, and I were working on something. And then Katara came in here to tell us off for working too late.”
“That’s ok,” she says, trying to cover the sadness in her tone but Zuko notices.
“What’s wrong, turtleduck?” he says walking over to her.
“I’m almost 17, don’t you think I’m a little old for that?”
“I don’t care how old you are, you’ll always be my little turtleduck.”
Izumi smiles softly. Zuko was sweet father. “You were looking at that painting of mom when I walked in.”
“I was, yes.” He pauses, "I was thinking about what I would tell her about you if I could.”
“What would you tell her?” a few tears well up in Izumi’s eyes, and she tries hard to keep them in.
“Well, I think she’d be happy to know you look just like her,” he starts. “And that you like to read and learn, and there’s nothing that you can’t teach yourself how to do. She’d be amazed that you can make your Aunt Azula laugh. And,” he says tipping her chin up so that she has to look into his eyes, “she’d want me to tell you that you could confide in your father with anything just like she did.”
“I don’t want to celebrate my birthday,” she whispers. A tear rolls down her cheek, and Zuko wipes it away.
“Why not?”
“It makes me feel guilty,” she barely manages to get out. She leans forward, and Zuko pulls her into an embrace.
“Zumi, sweetheart, we’ve talked about this. You have nothing to feel guilty about.”
“What if I just haven’t done the thing I’ll feel guilty about yet?” she strains.
“What’s that supposed to mean, Zumi?”
She doesn’t want to talk about what the noblewomen were discussing in the portrait gallery, and she diverts from her last question.
“I took your wife from you. You’ve been lonely for a long time because I came into the world.”
He holds her tighter against him. “That’s not true, Izumi,” he says firmly.
“Yes, it is.”
“Sit down, Izumi.” He guides her to the red and gold couch in his office and kneels in front of her. He takes one of her hands in her lap between his own, her gaze fixed downwards.
“Look at me,” he says softly.
She swallows and looks up, a tear rolls down her cheek.
“It has been, and still is, the greatest privilege of my life to be your father. The first time I ever saw you, I didn’t think I could ever love anyone more. I would have rather died than see you get hurt.” He pauses and wipes a tear off his cheek with his sleeve, and then does the same for Izumi. “And you’re right, I am lonely sometimes, but it’s not your fault, Izumi. In fact, when I see you smile or do something that brings you joy, I wonder how I could ever have wanted anything else. So don’t you ever think that you took anything away from me because you are the greatest joy of my life.”
She cannot stop the tears at his admission. She wraps her arms around his neck and he hugs her tightly to him. He doesn’t seem to mind that his robes are getting wet from her tears. Let’s pray it’s not an omen about our next Fire Lord plays again in her mind, and now with her father’s words, she only cries harder. He had so much faith in her, and she hadn’t proven anything yet about her ability to lead.
A few minutes later when she had stopped crying, Zuko loosens his embrace.
“I hate when my little girl is upset. You know Azula used to laugh at me because I’d cry when you got hurt or when you were sick. Then one time while I was in a meeting and Azula interrupted it clearly distraught because she found out someone had picked on you at school and she wanted the swiftest punishment imaginable, and I told her, 'now you know how it feels.'”
Izumi lets out a little laugh against his robes.
“Thanks, Dad.”
“Want me to make some tea?”
“You’re turning into grandfather,” she quips, pulling out of the hug.
“I’d consider that a very nice compliment, Zumi,” Zuko jokes.
A short while later they are in the kitchens, each with a cup of tea in hand, but a darkness still sits heavy in Izumi’s heart. She knows she won’t be able to shake it off anytime soon.