Chapter Text
Zuko was only trying to help in doing this. He thought that maybe, just maybe, they’d help you get better, help you recover.
You can remember his exact words. “They’re just trying to help you heal,” he’d said. “I don’t get why you resent them so much.”
He only said that because he didn’t know, you guess. When he found out what they’d actually been doing to you, he completely exploded. And more than he usually does. For the longest time, you just figured that you deserved this. No matter how distressed or upset or how many times blue flame licked at your palms, they kept you bound up. Surely that was because something was wrong with you, right? People aren’t supposed to see their long-gone mothers in the mirror!
Zuko was only trying to help in doing this. He’s always tried. Except he’s always failed, too.
How could the (albeit undeserving) Firelord not know what was going on in the Fire Nation mental institutions? They must have at least half of the control there. If not, that’s just proving your point that your older brother Zuzu’s just not an efficient Firelord. He’s only 17 years old!
...and you’re only 14. What point are you even trying to make?
You’ve found confusion is a running theme in your stay here. Confused as to why Zuko would think this was a good idea. Confused as to why they aren’t actually helping as they promised. Confused as to why she won’t leave you alone or why you can’t make her go away. Confused as to why Zuko became so furious when he found out what they’d been doing to you even though he did this. You’ve always been a little bit confused and now you’ll probably be confused forever.
And, naturally, upon hearing the news that you’re being sent off to Ember Island to make chit-chat with the Ember Island Players, you’re confused. And shocked. And sort of relieved.
The ship ride doesn’t take long, but it feels long. You spend most of your time in your reserved room, because you just can’t handle the thought of being in a giant hole in the Earth filled to the brim with water. People do try to get you out, but it takes a lot of coaxing. A lot of coaxing. Of course they can’t actually leave you on your own. Zuzu’s scared you might hurt yourself or something. And you want to, but you don’t.
You narrow your eyes and try to avoid looking at the water when you finally arrive. Everyone stares at you with wide eyes. Perhaps they recognize you not as Princess Azula, but as that one girl who obliterated a kuai ball net and trashed some dude’s party. Although maybe they’re just staring at you for the gigantic ship. You doubt they can actually recognize you without your makeup. You probably just look like some really weird stranger. Sure as Agni what you feel like.
Everyone still stares at you when you walk into the Ember Island Theater, guards close behind you, making sure you don’t “hurt yourself,” like Zuko so anxiously thinks you will (and it’s not even like you’d hurt yourself out of the blue in front of a bunch of people. You’re messed up, but you’re not that messed up.) When you get backstage, there’s already people there, probably waiting for you specifically.
“Whoa, wait!” one of the players exclaims. He looks incredibly unprofessional, with shaggy and unkempt hair and a lopsided headband. “They didn’t say they were giving us kids now!”
“Quiet down, Yoji,” a young woman replies. “It’s within reason.”
“I’m not even a child anyway,” you mutter.
You think you hear a guard repressing laughter.
“Yeah, okay.” The man (named Yoji, you presume) shrugs. “Ya from the institution? They said someone from the nuthouse was coming here.”
The young woman looks back at Yoji, surprised. “Yoji, don’t say that!”
You look off to the side. “Don’t complain. It’s true. I’m criminally insane.”
Yoji claps a hand over his mouth, holding back laughing. It doesn’t take much for him to give up, doubling over as he roars out like a warthyena. The young woman glares daggers at him, and another player stands behind him, silent.
“I’m sorry, I- I just can’t take that seriously coming out of your mouth,” Yoji says, trying to catch his breath. He walks over and grabs your face. “You have to be, like, what, at least 12?”
You swat his hand away. “I’m 14 and three quarters! Don’t say that again or I’ll char you so severely they won’t be able to recognize you when they go to put you six feet under.”
“Agni, that’s threatening.” Yoji puts his hands up in front of him. “Just calm down, okay? Not like anyone here’s waterboarding you.”
‘Waterboarding .’ Suddenly, the world’s a bit hotter than it should be. You place a hand on your heart. It’s racing. The woman scolds Yoji for something, but you can’t tell what she’s saying. The sound around you is getting drowned out. Drowned. You’re drowning and you can’t escape. You’re standing on a piece of land floating in a huge body of water . Everything’s sinking and you’re sinking and-
And then you panic. Your limbs shake and tears well up in your eyes and you panic. In the moment you don’t realize how foolish it looks for you to be freaking out about a simple offhand mention of water. And you made it worse by thinking about it. You’ve caused your own problem.
You think the guards try to escort you out. You can’t tell right now.
When it’s all over, you find yourself in that old house you used to stay in over the warm summers when you were younger. Mai was right - it does look like the beach threw up all over it. But whatever. You throw your head under your pillow and try not to listen to the sounds around you. You’re exhausted. You think you may feel a headache coming on.
A guard walks over to you and taps you on the shoulder, and you look up. “What?”
“One of the players delivered you a message.” He hands you an envelope.
You open it carefully and precisely, and take out the letter. The first thing you notice is that there’s a heart at the end of each sentence. Whoever must have sent it to you must be some sort of softie. The word boils in your mind... softie. No matter what happens you will never be soft, because you just can’t achieve anything that way. You go ahead and read it.
“Salutations 14-year-old girl that I currently do not know the name of,
I’m sorry that my stupid boyfriend gave you a panic attack.
Hoping for you a brighter future, Jinong.”
You hold the letter for a few more seconds after reading it, just sort of staring at it, and then you fold it back up. Maybe tomorrow you’ll give Yoji a piece of your mind.
____
You slept better than you do most nights. There’s something.
You promise yourself that you’re not going to mess up again as the guards lead you back over to the Ember Island Theater. You’ve made a fool out of yourself, and now you have to set things straight. You need to assert yourself as a noble ruler, not a child. So far, though, that’s all they’ve seen you as. Some child in need of protection. Once you light Yoji’s hair on fire they’ll know who’s really in need of protection.
“Oh, hey.” Yoji sounds a bit less careless now. “Sorry for what happened last time.”
It’s hard to make eye contact with him. “I got your girlfriend’s note. She called you stupid.”
“Hey!” He glares at the serious woman from last time, Jinong, and lightly jostles her in the shoulder.
Jinong shrugs. “That’s your punishment.”
You decide to change the subject. “What are you three rehearsing?”
“The King’s Shadow,” the silent player from last time answers.
“You say that as if you’re not a part of it, kid.” Yoji immediately goes back to grinning like an idiot.
Goodness, Zuzu really isn’t cut out to be the Firelord. “Wait, I’m rehearsing with you delinquents? No one told me that!”
“Well you probably should have at least assumed .” Yoji gives a slight titter.
Jinong looks like she’s about to scold Yoji again, but she never does. “Ahem. Allow me to explain a few things. Our actress for Princess Yingying recently got into an accident involving a tigerdillo and a slab of raw pigchicken meat that I will omit the details of because, well, it’s horrific. We haven’t been able to rehearse The King’s Shadow without her, and no one really wants to be involved in any Ember Island Theater plays anymore after the financial flop that was The Boy in the Iceberg, so we’ve kind of been in a pickle here.”
Yoji chuckles. “Heh. Pickle.”
“What is even remotely funny about that?” Jinong asks.
“Dunno.” He shrugs.
“Anyway, where was I?” Jinong says. “Oh! The Firelord discovered our issue, and just so happened to know someone perfect for the job. And apparently, it’s you! No wonder, you look exactly like Yingying.”
That’s not the reason Zuko sent you here. “I bet a million other people in the Fire Nation look exactly like Yingying, too.”
“Well, yes, but would they really audition for a role in an Ember Island Theater play after what happened with The Boy in the Iceberg?”
“I’ve never seen it. Was it really that bad?”
“Oh, goodness.” Jinong puts a hand on her forehead. “It was horrible. The characters were butchered, the ending was changed, the effects were fine but still a bit lackluster, and DON’T get me started on the terrible advertising...uh, anyway, would you mind telling us your name?”
“...Azula,” you mutter. “It’s Azula.”
“Oh my...that’s a beautiful name!” the once-silent player puts a hand to their chest. “My name isn’t so special...it’s just Ling.”
“...wait, that reminds me!” Jinong buries her hands in her shoulder-length hair. “I forgot to introduce you to everyone. Uh, that’s Yoji, he plays King Zhuwo, and he’s my boyfriend! That’s Ling, they play Puren, the main commoner of the story. And I’m Jinong! I play Queen Nuanshou.”
“I already know all of your names. The characters you three play was useful, though.”
“Oh...alright, uh, do we have the script for Azula?” Jinong asks, turning to Ling. Ling nods, handing it to the young woman. “Ok, thank you!”
When you get the script, the only thing you can think about is how messy the handwriting is. You have to squint just to read your lines. You know exactly how the play goes: Princess Yingying is constantly told by her controlling father, King Zhuwo, that she will never be more than his legacy, his shadow. And then she breaks free. Starts living on the streets as a commoner. For all her life, she believed that she could only be happy and loved with power, but the longer she lives in the village, the more she realizes that she doesn’t need power to be loved, and that her father doesn’t define her.
You’ve never enjoyed it. Seemed too sappy for your tastes. Not to mention that you hated Yingying more and more every time you saw it. You just...saw something in her that bothered you. Ozai must have seen it to, because he eventually demanded that the rest of his family stop going to it. Whatever. That’s not important right now, and besides, you need to rehearse with everyone else.