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It was quiet. Way too quiet for a palace full of servants and ambassadors. Even in the middle of the night, someone was always scurrying down the hall or dropping something in the kitchen that echoed into every room. But this time, there was nothing. Just an empty, black ceiling and crimson curtains blowing in the breeze.
Wait. Zuko hadn’t opened his window before going to bed. So how…?
Just as the thought crossed his mind, a figure veiled in shadow flitted across his field of vision. He shot straight up in bed and felt something cold pierce the air. In the dim moonlight, the firelord looked down at a massive shard of ice that ended just before impaling his throat.
Oh shit.
There wasn’t even time to think (or hyperventilate, though he was on the right track for that) before the figure launched itself at Zuko. He lurched backwards off his bed, landing on the floor with a loud thud. The figure—a waterbender, he guessed—was quick on their feet and jumped off Zuko’s bed at lightning speed. He lit a fire in his hands and threw it at the waterbender, brushing just past their hair and lighting up their features for a brief moment.
Zuko’s eyes widened. And he knew, he knew the crystally blue eyes, tan skin, and dark hair wasn’t Katara or Sokka. But something in his brain just clicked. What if Katara had suddenly turned on him? He didn’t know if he could handle the very, very slim chance that his boyfriend’s sister was trying to murder him.
He didn’t have a chance to mull it over before the waterbender jumped down at him with a sharp cover of ice covering their fist. Zuko rolled out of the way and the ice shattered like glass onto the wooden floor. The sound was loud, and the firelord internally hoped the guards had heard it.
He managed to scramble to his feet while fighting off the drowsiness that still lingered from lying in his warm bed. He launched into a series of kicks at the intruder and managed to slam them in the side of their head. The intruder fell to the ground on their side and launched a wave at Zuko, the water summoned from the flower vase beside his bed. Note to self: Don’t keep water handy at night. Zuko’s legs were swept out from underneath him by the thin wave, and he slammed into the side of the bed. Hard. His head made contact with the wooden footboard and what was left of his vision went gray for a moment, a moment accompanied by sheer panic.
He would not lose. Even if it was Katara coming in for some late-night training. But no, she was back at the tribe. He had to keep telling himself that.
Zuko stood again and shook out the lingering dizziness. He shot two fists of fire at the assassin but was met by a wall of water. Seriously, why did Zuko keep so many potential weapons on hand?! Wait…weapons. Zuko lunged for his fireplace, above which his dao swords sat. Unfortunately, the assassin saw what he was doing and launched water at his fist. Zuko barely managed to unhook his swords from the wall when his fist stuck to the wall in a block of ice. The swords clattered to the ground.
He struggled uselessly and lit his hand aflame. Gold-lined water dripped down the wall like blood. Zuko gulped.
The moment of hesitation had allowed the waterbender to sneak up on him from behind, and place a silver knife right at his throat. They pulled down their black mask and whispered, voice laced with pure disgust, “Say goodbye, firelord.”
And he struggled, he did, but every move dug the knife further into his throat, and even hands of fire thrown against the intruder’s skin didn’t seem to faze them. They just held the knife tight and began digging in, slowly and painfully. Zuko’s vision swam. He didn’t know whether he was dizzy from the head injury, or the blood trickling from his throat.
That’s when the door slammed open with the force of a thousand komodo-rhinos.
“Hands up, intruder! Let the firelord go!” A teenager’s voice shouted. And maybe it was the nausea, but Zuko didn’t recognize the voice.
And then the heavy pressure on his skin was gone. It was so cold, and he was falling, but someone caught him. His hair was brushed away from his forehead but everything was blurry—and when had the lights come on? The barrage of sound and light attacked his senses until he was left pressing his face into whoever had saved him from falling.
“Firelord Zuko, what happened?”
“Is he awake?”
“His pulse is strong.”
“Where’s the intruder?”
“Zuko. Look at me, please.”
He pinpointed the loudest voice. It was familiar. He looked up to the blue, blue eyes that belonged to the strong arms keeping him in place. And then it was happening all over again.
“N-no, please!” He threw his arms over his face and shoved the attacker away.
But the small, hurt voice that followed didn’t belong to an assassin. It belonged to Sokka. “Zuko? I’m not going to hurt you.”
He uncovered his face slowly and squinted against the blinding light of a dozen candles hovering near his face. And he whimpered. Pathetically, at that. The mighty firelord, uniter of nations, trembling at the sight of blue eyes. His father would be so, so amused.
“Sokka—” His breath hitched as he fell back into the water tribe boy’s arms. “I’m sorry. The attacker—waterbender—”
“It’s okay, they’re gone now. You're safe.”
“Zuzu!” A panicked voice echoed from outside the room.. The firelord didn’t know whether he should be relieved or fearful.
“Well, almost safe.” Sokka grumbled.
Zuko pushed away from his boyfriend as Azula shoved past the guards and ran to him. The floor swayed beneath him and his vision tilted dangerously, but he was determined not to pass out in front of his sister. Not again, at least.
She steadied him as her cold eyes examined him for injuries.
“You’re such an idiot.”
…
Azula was getting better. At least, she thought so. It had been two days since her last slip-up in planning war tactics instead of peaceful marches, and Zuko seemed to be warming up to her. Of course, Mai still refused to talk to her, but she could live with that. Ty Lee visited her for lunch occasionally. That was enough for the moment.
But she still wasn’t able to sleep. Back in the hospital, she never really closed her eyes, either. If she did, maybe her therapist would take that moment to kill her. Maybe the new firelord would decide she was treasonous. Maybe, maybe, maybe. Most of the time, she only slept when she heard Zuzu’ soft snores outside her room or the bustling of his many friends. They slept near her room a lot the first few weeks. She found that, even though she turned up her nose at the peasants, their presence was comforting. She really didn’t want anything bad to happen to them.
And then it did.
Her room was lit by her own angry blue fire when the guards held her back. Because there was a noise from the room down the hall, the firelord’s quarters. The sound of a fight, and yelling, and guards. And Zuko was in there. Pathetic, stupid Zuzu was going to get himself killed, and the guards wouldn’t let her out of her room.
“Princess Azula, we can’t risk it. You have to stay here until the threat is neutralized.” The use of her old title startled her. No one called her a princess anymore. She wasn’t sure she deserved it, after everything she’d done.
“I could blow all of your heads off right now and step right over your dead bodies! Let me through!”
“Ma’am, you can go see the firelord after it’s safe. Please stay put.”
She shouted and struggled and barely held back the lightning building in her chest. What if he was dead? What if someone was hurt and she couldn’t stop it? If she could just look at Zuzu’s face, make sure he was okay, that would be enough.
Minutes went by that felt like an eternity. She sat quietly on her bed and tossed threats to the guards every few seconds. The panic and the lightning just kept growing, until—
“It’s safe to come out now. The threat was—”
Azula was already halfway down the hall before the captain of the guards finished his sentence. Guards flooded the hallways with terrified servants and shivering ambassadors. Why was it so crowded? Was poor little Zuzu dead already?
She pushed her way through the crowd until the people recognized her and backed up into bows. She didn’t care if it was out of fear or reverence, as long as she got through.
“Zuzu!” She screamed, racing into the room. And Agni it was a mess. Shards of ice and patches of water littered the floor, part of the bed frame splattered with blood and still sputtering with flames. A dark figure was screaming obscenities on the floor with their hands tied behind their back. Azula was strangely reminded of herself, and felt bile rise in her throat.
Zuzu’s dao swords that usually hung proudly over the fireplace were cast to the floor carelessly and being picked up by curious guards. Zuzu himself sat slumped in the water tribe peasant—boy’s arms, shivering dangerously. His hair was tangled in his eyes and there was a cloth wrapped around his head, the side of it soaked brown and red.
When he caught sight of Azula, he pushed away from Sokka and stood on his own. He was swaying. Azula readied her arms to catch him, but really didn’t want to go through that experience not even a week after the last time.
She reached out and placed her hands on his shoulders so he stopped shaking. His eyes looked unfocused as he fixed them in her general direction. She wanted to sob in his arms. Hug him. Tell him that she was glad he was safe. But instead, what came out of her mouth was, “You’re such an idiot.”
He gave her the smallest of smiles and sat back on the bed. “I’m alive, so that counts for something.” Hm. His slurred words and shaky gaze didn’t exactly match the i’m okay tone in his voice.
“You need to stop getting yourself into these situations. That’s the fifth assassination attempt in the past six months.”
Sokka squinted at Azula. “How did you even know that?” She waved off the question before he continued, “And lay off. It’s not his fault people really want to kill him.”
“Thanks, Sokka.” Zuzu muttered sarcastically.
Azula didn’t pay attention to his pathetic sight. “Maybe if he learned how to fight better, no one would want to mess with him. I haven’t had a single assassination attempt on me.” Oh, she was saying the exact wrong thing. But halfway to an argument, she couldn’t change her point. Even if her brother was staring at her with fear in his eyes.
“Can we not do this right now?” Zuko’s voice was just so small.
“Maybe that’s because you’re still an Ozai supporter!” Sokka shouted in her face. And just like that, the whole room went quiet.
She stared into his watery blue eyes and saw the instant regret. But that didn’t change what he’d said. Azula took a shaky breath as she stepped towards him. “Azula,” Zuzu warned.
“You think...you think I’m an Ozai supporter? Even after he abused me and my brother our whole lives?” She let out every bit of anger that had been stored up over the past year. “You really think I’d support the very man that spat in my face and told me I would never be as good as him? The very man who charred half my brother’s face? I spent my entire life succumbing to him because if I didn’t, I would be murdered! And maybe I was a little messed up, and still am, but that doesn’t mean I support the abusive, sadistic man who tried to take over the world.” She hissed. Blue fire had sprouted from her fingertips, and she didn’t even notice. “Never, ever say such a thing. Ever again.”
Then she turned and stormed out.
...
Zuko followed her.
…
The moon was halfway gone. Fitting. It was halfway disappeared, halfway broken, just like Azula’s family. Broken and dark and gone.
She sat with her head on her knees by the old lychee nut tree. Tears made of blue fire and pain streamed from her eyes as she stared up at the darkening sky. How could someone really look at her and think she was just like she used to be? How could someone stare into her golden eyes filled to the brim with remorse and tell her she was still a monster? Maybe she was.
She was.
A soft footstep came from behind Azula, and she snapped to attention. Her head whipped around as she summoned a blue flame to her hand. Firebending was still foreign to her after not using it for a year, but it managed to come naturally. The flame extinguished just as quick as it had come when she saw who was standing above her, aglow in the silvery light of the moon.
“Mind if I sit here?”
“Agni, Zuzu, sit before you collapse on top of me. You look like you’re about to die.”
He grunted as he plopped on the ground next to her with his legs crossed. He leaned against the tree and took a deep breath of the humid air. “He didn’t mean it.”
Azula sniffed. “Yes, he did.”
She felt a warm hand on her shoulder but didn’t turn to face her brother. She would see that painfully red scar, the almost fully white eye, the disfigured ear hidden by shaggy hair. She would be reminded of the man who caused that scar, the man who people still believed she loved.
“You just have to trust me on this one.” Zuko whispered.
“I didn’t think people still thought of me that way.”
“They don’t. He told me it just slipped out, since he always associated you with the evil of the fire nation. I mean, you did chase him for a few months. And me.”
“I said I was sorry.”
“I know.” Zuzu was quiet. “I know, and it changes a lot of things. But it doesn’t change the way you treated me. The way you treated my friends. You were just acting on orders, but…” His breath hitched. “You acted like you enjoyed it. And you hurt me a lot before then. That’s why it’s so hard to forgive you.”
“Is it as hard as forgiving Dad?”
The way he talked sounded like he was holding back tears, but Azula still didn’t want to look. “A little. But no, because you actually know what you did wrong. You’re better. It’s hard to forgive you when my entire childhood was spent being afraid of you.
“But...I love you. I never really stopped loving you.”
That’s when she finally looked. His eyes were still glassy, hand on her shoulder still shaking, but he looked sincere. She broke into tears and turned to throw her arms around him. “I love you too, Zuzu.” She mumbled into his robes.