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She was never meant to be one of the good guys. Even when she thinks back to her childhood, all the pain she carried and trauma she experienced, she knows that’s not what stopped her from being good. Did Ozai make her evil? Absolutely. But even with a perfect childhood, with a perfect house and perfect parents, Azula knows, deep down, she never could have been a hero.
But that’s not a bad thing. Not everyone is one of the good guys. In fact, most people aren’t anything. They simply live their lives, existing for the sake of it. It took her years to realize that was okay. It was okay to live for yourself. Or live for a loved one. Or for a pet, or the land, or even nothing at all, but still living nonetheless. She didn’t have to live to please her father anymore.
After that day when Azula lost her mind in the fight against her brother, Zuko took pity on her. He couldn’t kill her and didn’t want to imprison her for the rest of her life. Azula was still his sister, after all. So instead he had her held in the finest psychiatric hospital Caldera City had to offer.
Azula wasn’t exactly thrilled about this arrangement. In fact, she would have preferred the honour of being sent to a real prison, but she was in no state of mind to challenge anything being done to her.
So, in the hospital she stayed, days passing too slowly and too quickly all at once. In all honesty, it was as if time didn’t exist to Azula. Of course, she recognized the passing of time. She was no fool. The nurses brought her three meals a day, every day. The sun rose and set as it always had. The impromptu haircut she had given herself on the night that would haunt her for the rest of her life starts to grow out. But time didn’t truly have a meaning for her, not for a while anyway. She wasn’t even sure how long it lasted, but it had to have been years. Years of living every day in a trance.
Zuko would visit her from time to time. She wasn’t exactly receptive to these visits, but he would talk, she would listen. Well, he would talk while she sat there. When she thinks back on it, those visits were the highlight of her time in that hospital, though Zuko would never know it.
When she started waking up from the in-between state she was stuck in for those long years after her downfall, she was finally able to reflect on all that shit that went down when I was 14, as she liked to say. It’s not that she’s dismissive of what she had done. She knows exactly how large the consequences of her actions were. She’s still living with the consequences. That time in her life–it pains her. She keeps that pain hidden. Azula would never want to appear weak, so she feigns nonchalance. In truth, however, she thinks about what she did every day.
It’s not that she regrets it, that’s definitely not the word. She knows she regrets losing, though. She laughs to herself at that thought. I regret not being smart enough to win. She wishes she could have outsmarted Zuko and Katara and the rest of those brats. No Azula, they’re not brats, some people are just more annoying than other people, she reminds herself. But she has a deep respect for all of them. They beat her, and anyone that could beat Azula gains her respect. In beating her, they also gave her the opportunity to reflect.
The only thing she truly regrets was the way she treated Mai and Ty Lee. Her friends. The only friends she ever had. She didn’t really need them for what she wanted to do at the time. She thought she did, of course, but when she reflects, she realized she didn’t need them to accomplish her goals but rather she needed them selfishly, emotionally. She needed her friends for support, and she manipulated them to get it. Azula regrets that and would take it back if she could. She mourns those friendships.
Her time in the hospital also helped her to realize all that power she craved at the age of just fourteen was not her own wish, but her fathers. She recognizes now that the way Ozai treated her was not right. She deserved better. And now, after it was all said and done, she needed to decide what she wanted, rather than what Ozai wanted. Not that the doctors at the hospital could offer any insights in that department.
“And how do you feel about that?” her therapist would always say. It’s not that she didn’t have feelings, she knew she did. Sometimes her feelings were so strong they were overwhelming. They just weren’t so important to her. They didn’t drive her. But if it wasn’t her emotions driving her, then what? She realized in that hospital she no longer craved anything worth fighting for. She didn’t want power, wasn’t interested in love, didn’t have any passions. It may have sounded sad to an outsider, but to Azula, it was enlightening. She was ok with simply living; it gave her peace. She decided she could just live out her days in that hospital.
Unfortunately for Azula, the psychiatric hospital turned out to be the worst place to live out her days. Once she had recovered from the shit that went down when I was 14, she also realized everyone in that hospital were the stupidest and most enraging people she’d ever met. If one more doctor asks me about my god damn day, he’ll regret the– “Zuko!”
Zuko was visiting. This was her chance. She had come to realize he visits once a month, and he was the only one who would be able to get her out of that wretched place. “Azula,” he said to her with a smile, though a look of confusion quickly passed on his face at her bright tone.
She sat stiffly on her bed as she prepared herself to ask him to let her out of the hospital. She never said she was sorry, because that would be a lie. He won and he doesn’t need the satisfaction of an apology, the bastard. So, she told him how she was young then. She no longer cared about what she once did, and he knew as well as anyone how large of an impact their father had. She was older now and deserved to live life on her own terms. Her argument was so strong any man would’ve given in to her request. But Zuko didn’t let her out because of her words. No, he let her out because of how vulnerable and sincere she was. She hadn’t realized it; she would never intentionally let herself be vulnerable in front of anyone. But he saw how genuine she was, how much she had grown. He knew she wasn’t ready to join him in the kingdom and fight for justice or anything like that. In fact, he wasn’t even sure she wouldn’t try to kill him as soon as she was free. But he knew he loved his sister, and he knew how much strength it took for her to ask him to let her go. And so, that’s exactly what he did.
He signed the papers to let Azula out that day. They walked out of the front doors together, and he watched the smile spread across her face as she basked in the full breadth of the sunlight for the first time as a completely free woman.
As a child, she was held back by her fathers’ expectations of her. Later, she was held back by the consequences of her childhood and her own mind. But that day, standing outside the hospital, she was completely free. At that moment, she knew that no matter what, no matter how she was feeling or what her responsibilities were, she would never let herself not be free.
She turned to Zuko then. They looked at each other, both with wide smiles, and she gave him a hug. She had never hugged her brother like it before. Doesn’t remember ever hugging him, actually. But that day, she wrapped her arms around his waist and buried her face in his chest and let him hug her back. She knew he probably had a few tears in his eyes, and she rolled her own at the thought, but she still hugged him as seconds turned to minutes. As she finally let him go, she picked up her small bag of possessions and walked away without ever turning back. It was the last time she ever saw him.
She wanders for a while. Wanders through villages and cities trying to find a home. She never stays in one place for too long, doesn’t make any friends, and only gets odd jobs for a short while in order to make enough money to get to the next place. Finally, one day, she stumbles upon a small village practically surrounded by mountains. It didn’t take her long to realize nearly everyone in the village was just as grumpy as she was, and she knew she found a home. She had heard of abandoned cottages up on the mountains, so she left the small village and after about a half days walk, stumbled upon an old, beaten up cottage, secluded enough for her to know she’d never be bothered. It was perfect.
She fixes up the cottage and makes it a home. She has a garden where she grows her own vegetables and a small pond that the turtle ducks visit every spring. She no longer hurts them like she used to. Doesn’t even truly understand why she ever did that in the first place. She makes the trip down the mountain to the village once a month for supplies, but other than that, she lives completely alone.
People from her old life write to her every now and again, but she rarely replies. She still thinks about returning to her old life. Thinks about it every day. But that’s not her life anymore. Returning would hurt all the people she left behind. She doesn’t want to cause pain anymore. No longer wants to hurt the people she knew just as she no longer wants to hurt the turtle ducks. She’s moved on from that and is fine with her life in the cottage on the mountain. She’s not happy. She doesn’t think any life she would have lived after everything that happened could be truly happy. But it’s good enough for her. A simple life in her cottage with her garden and the turtle ducks.
But still, she thinks about them. Thinks about Zuko and the relationship they could have had as brother and sister. He would’ve been the fire lord and she wouldn’t have resented it. She wouldn’t have been the face of the nation, but Zuko is honourable. He would have let her lead with him. They would have been aunt and uncle to each other’s children. They could never be that to each other in this life, but she mourns that other life. The life where they were happy existing together.
Zuko sends her the most letters of everyone from her past. It hurts her to care for him so deeply and not be able to show it to him, but she knows it’s best for both of them. Best for him to send letters and for her to not return them. He has a daughter, Izumi. He writes to her about how he’s never been happier. “She reminds me of you,” he writes in one letter as Izumi is getting older. That was the first time since the day she hit her brother with lighting that she cried. It was the last time she ever cried.
She also thinks back to the avatar and the rest of the group Zuko joined. Those brats. No Azula, they’re not brats, damn it! What were their names again? Zuko talks about them in his letters occasionally. The avatar, his name is Aang. Then there’s the blind girl, Toph, and the water tribe siblings, Sokka and Katara. Oh, that’s right, Azula thinks to herself, Sokka! I definitely would’ve boned him in another life. She laughs to herself. She doesn’t often think of her hypothetical “another life” in ways that don’t make her mournful, so she relishes in the pure joy and absurdity of thoughts like boning the cute boy she barely knew. She does, however, often think of how much respect she has for those four. The way they gave her the greatest defeat of her life. Especially Katara, the one who actually beat her, one on one, with pure ability. Azula has to admit, it was impressive.
She reminisces about the times she spent with Mai and Ty Lee, or rather, the times she wasted with them. The only friends she ever had, and she used them rather than cherished them. She hears from Mai once and a while, but mostly hears about her from Zuko. She thinks Mai is happy. As happy as Mai can be, anyway. She rarely hears from Ty Lee, which hurts. She once again thinks of her “another life,” thinks of how she might’ve wanted a relationship with Ty Lee. She was the only person Azula could’ve ever seen loving romantically. Ty Lee's complete optimism would’ve balanced my bitchiness perfectly, she thinks. But in this life, Azula wasn’t meant for love. She just has to live with that.
She lives alone and in her head for years, satisfied with her existence. Same routine every day.
Though one day, out of the blue, she hears a knock on the shabby door of her cottage. She’s about fifty years old on that day, though she’s not exactly sure. It’s hard to keep track when you’re alone.
She opens the door to find a woman standing in front of her. The woman looks to be about the same age as Azula, but they are near opposites in appearance. The woman has dark skin and long, curly brown hair, but her most striking feature is her bright blue eyes. It had been half a lifetime, but Azula could never forget her.
“Katara,” Azula says. She doesn’t say it with malice, but she’s certainly not being friendly either. It’s more of a statement of fact.
“Azula! You remember me!” Katara smiles brightly. She walks right past Azula into the cottage without being invited in and starts unpacking the small bag she brought with her. Azula stands dumbfounded in the doorway for a split second before kicking into action.
“What are you doing here, Katara?”
Katara all but ignores the question as she sets up a plate of mini sandwiches and starts a fire to make tea. What the fuck is going on, Azula thinks as she stares at the first person who’s ever been in her home besides herself.
Katara motions for Azula to join her (at Azula’s own table, no less), and so Azula sits. Katara stares at Azula in expectation, as if she wasn’t the one to barge into Azula’s house without invitation. A look of annoyance crosses Azula’s face. They sit there staring at each other for what must’ve been minutes until any resolve Azula had been feeling suddenly leaves her. Her face falls and she exhales. She has to look down as she says to Katara, “You’re the first person that’s ever visited me.”
A look of sympathy crosses Katara’s face at the words, and she reaches across the table to hold Azula’s hand in her own.
“Why are you here, Katara?” Azula asks, a bit of bite behind the words, though her hand stays in Katara’s.
“I just wanted to see you,” Katara says, “What? I can’t visit an old friend?”
Azula conceals the shock she feels at the word “friend” coming from Katara. “Friend?” she deadpans.
“I know this seems weird and out of the blue, but all that stuff that happened when we were kids, it was all so–it was so messed up, for kids to go through that. And I never stopped wondering about you, after our fight. I have so much respect for you Azula, but I never go to tell you. I saw how Zuko changed, but it took so much effort for him, and you–you never even got the chance. So here I am, I guess.” Katara looks down, suddenly shy after that outburst even though not five minutes ago she was bursting into the home of someone from another lifetime.
Azula would’ve laughed if she wasn’t so touched by Katara’s words. All she can do is stare in shock for a moment.
“Katara, I need you to know, I never hated you. Any of you. In fact, I have nothing but respect for you,” Azula said in earnest. Though, it was getting a little too emotional and personal for her liking, so she decided to take a lighter tone. “But I’ll never forgive you for kicking my ass back then, I expect a rematch.”
Katara laughed, and Azula did too. They laugh like that for the rest of the day. Katara tells Azula about Aang and her children, the full life she’s led. Azula is happy for her. For Aang too. They make jokes about Zuko, laughing together about how easy it is to rile him up. They both imagine a life in which Zuko would never get a day of peace with the two of them by his side. Azula can’t help but notice the way Katara lights up when they talk about Zuko, though she doesn’t mention it. It’s just one more “another life” to imagine, in which Azula and Katara are sisters-in-law, working together to make Fire Lord Zuko the best he can be. Azula also has to remark that she definitely would’ve let Sokka hit it, and relishes in the horrified look on Katara’s face. Katara then tells her about Sokka and how he married the love of his life, Suki, a Kyoshi Warrior. Azula remembers her. She was a great fighter. A worthy opponent, just like Katara.
They talk until the sun sets and Katara has to spend the night, so she doesn’t have to travel in the dark. They share Azula’s bed. It’s not exactly made for two people, but Azula certainly doesn’t mind. It’s interesting to her, to be able to spend the night beside another person. In the moment, she knows that she’ll never experience it again, so she savours the feeling.
The next morning, Katara packs up for the long trip ahead of her. As she’s preparing for her final goodbye, Katara turns to Azula one last time.
“Is there any chance you’ll ever come home, Azula?” Katara asks.
It hits Azula right in the chest. That word. Home. She longed for it, that life, she really did. But she’d made up her mind long ago, and she couldn’t change it now.
“I am home, Katara.”
A sad smile crosses over Katara’s face. She reaches out to Azula and they shared a quick hug. There were no more words that needed to be spoken between them. Azula watches Katara leave until she is out of eyesight. She knew she would never get that rematch with Katara.
Azula still gets letters, though less and less as the years go on. Zuko tries to write consistently, but he’s the Fire Lord, and Azula understands he’s busy.
She’s getting older. Not just older, but old. She can barely make the trip to the nearby village anymore, so she enlists the help of a boy who lives in the village to make the monthly trip and drop off her supplies for her. She has her routine now. She doesn’t leave her little cottage on the mountain.
She tends to her garden; she feeds the turtle ducks. She fixes leaks in her roof and bakes bread. It’s as much as she deserves, she thinks. It’s enough. As long as I’m free, it’s enough. She doesn’t expect anything besides her routine.
Then, on a random afternoon, not unlike the day Katara came to visit, Azula hears a knock at her door. Azula is old enough to be a grandmother, but when she opens the door, she’s not expecting three kids who look like they could be her grandchildren. They’re not unlike the ones she chased all those years ago. Two boys and a girl, standing right in front of her.
Before she can react, one of the boys, the younger one, all but shouts at her. “Are you Azula?”
Azula tries not to look annoyed when she answers with an apprehensive nod.
The three of them come to life all at once, relief and joy washing over their features. They start explaining why they’re at her house, talking over each other in their excitement. Azula schools her features, though she feels her heart swell at the sight of them. She silences them and asks them to tell her, calmly, what they’re doing at her house.
The older boy speaks up, telling her a story about a quest and duty, though she doesn’t really care why they’re in front of her at that moment. She’s already decided she wants to help them any way she can.
The older boy finishes his story, but he left out one crucial detail. “That’s a nice story kid, but why are you at my house?”
The three kids all look at each other, slightly confused, before the younger boy speaks up again, “You were the toughest, most cunning firebender of your generation. And we need to learn firebending. So, will you teach us?”
So, she teaches them. She doesn’t know why exactly. Maybe it’s selfish and she just wants to feel useful one last time. Maybe it’s more than that. Maybe she wanted to feel what it would have been like if she had joined the avatar. Azula maintains she doesn’t feel remorse for what she did when she was just fourteen. But as she drifts off to sleep in the quiet hours of the night in her little cottage on the mountain, she thinks about how maybe, just maybe, helping those kids makes up for her past.
She trains with the kids for two weeks, teaching them everything she knows about firebending and even a little about war strategy. The only firebending she had done for the better part of a century was to heat up her tea. She had forgotten how great it felt, to use her gift.
She feels a special bond with the girl of the group. She’s similar to Azula. Everyone else probably sees the girl as too loud. Too strong. Just too much. But not Azula. Azula sees something special in her, and she hopes that little girl can live the “another life” Azula so often fantasized about.
She teaches the girl about the secret of the blue flame. She tells the girl not to share the gift with anyone, not even her friends, until the time is right.
“But how will I know the time is right?” the girl asks Azula as she looks up at her with bright eyes.
“You’ll just know,” Azula says, and she’s never been more sure about something in all her life.
After Azula had shared all her wisdom with the children, it’s time for them to move on. But she can’t let them leave without asking the question that had been nagging at her since they arrived.
“How did you hear about me?” she asked. They look at her with confusion, a look she had started to get used to. Children are so stupid, but the thought is fond rather than malicious. She clarifies her question, “You said I was the toughest and most cunning firebender of my generation. Who told you that?”
They still look confused, but the younger boy explains, “You’re the most famous firebender there is. The Fire Lord created a day where we celebrate your strength each year. You’re in our history books, you’ll never be forgotten. Everybody knows who you are.”
Azula doesn’t smile, doesn’t cry, barely shows any emotion at all. She makes a small “hm” sound as she ponders what the boy had just told her, and she’s more at peace than she ever had been in her lifetime.
She says her final goodbyes to the children, then she’s alone again. Just her and the turtle ducks. She goes inside and makes a pot of tea, smiling as she uses her firebending to heat it. She never did manage to make it as well as Uncle Iroh.
She takes a long sip of the tea and closes her eyes, relishing in the feeling of not just the hot tea in her stomach but the knowledge that, through all her failures, she was enough for this world. Her brother loves her. Katara loves her. She helped those children. She was enough.
She passes away a few days later in her sleep, the night before the boy from the village comes to drop off her supplies. He finds her body lying still in her bed. He’s haunted by the image, but she looks peaceful. She looks peaceful because she was. People from her old life, those still alive anyway, get word of her death. Caldera City was all but shut down for a week, the rest of the fire nation mourning too. Mourning the loss of their princess that had greatness in her but never got the chance to prove it.
Zuko is only able to mourn for his sister for a short period of time before he has to get back to his responsibilities, but he knows a piece of him left with Azula. Katara lights a candle and sends a prayer for Azula. “You were the best opponent I ever faced,” she whispers as she looks to the sky.
Azula lived her life. It was long and tiring; not nearly as satisfying as she thought it would be. But there were still good moments. Moments that, when she thought back on them, made her know her life had been worth living. Who knew that, after all she did, people would still think of her so fondly. She probably could have gone back to that old life. That "another life" she craved so deeply yet knew was never truly attainable. The life filled with such promise but ruined by circumstance. The life with the people she loved. But Azula chose the path she did because it was enough. It was enough for her, to die free the way she did. Dying free in her cottage on the mountain, with her garden and the turtle ducks. It was enough.