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Chapter Text

The Fire Lord’s wax seal is a very particular shade of red. 

Because Fire Lord Sozin made the official colors of the Fire Nation red and gold, the former was made ubiquitous in Fire Nation life. Therefore, there had to be several shades so that the people could have at least some semblance of variety in their lives. From deep crimson to bright vermillion, the Fire Nation uses every single shade of red. 

All but one. 

The Fire Nation Royal Family is the only family that wears Imperial Red. The weavers and dyers that supply the Royal Family are the only ones in the Nation who know how to produce this particular shade of red. This is simply a fact of life, like saying that the sky is blue, and the Fire Nation is an island nation. 

Azula knows this particular shade of red very well, because it has marked the scrolls that are her official instructions from her father for the last couple of months since she left the palace in pursuit of Zuko and Uncle, and later, the Avatar. 

She turns the unopened scroll over in her hands, running one calloused thumb over the smooth parchment and the dried splotch of wax in which her father had pressed his signet ring. Even though message interception was a common enough occurrence in the many hawkeries that this message had surely passed through, the distinctive red wax seal of the sovereign had discouraged anyone from reading the missive. 

She slides her nail under the sheet and unfurls the scroll. 

Azula, 

I expect results within the fortnight. Ba Sing Se must fall. The Avatar must be mine, and so must the traitors. Do not fail me. 

Fire Lord Ozai 

Short and to the point. She doesn’t need the reminder, of course, as she has been planning for the last three days straight. After infiltrating the palace, gaining the Earth King’s trust, then deposing the Earth King and that pathetic Long Feng, and gaining control of the Dai Li, she stands poised on the precipice of victory. 

Especially with the latest piece of intelligence so willingly brought to her by the waterbending peasant. 

Zuko is here, in the Upper Ring, playing domestic tea boy with Uncle Fatso, and it will be so easy to bring him to the palace and back to Father. 

She smiles. Everything is perfect. 

She bursts into the crystal cavern just as the Dai Li encase Uncle Fatso in crystal. The waterbender and the Avatar run out of the cavern, but Azula is unfazed. Once she has Zuko securely in her grasp, getting the Avatar will be child’s play. 

“I expected this kind of treachery from Uncle. But Zuko, Prince Zuko, you’re a lot of things, but you’re not a traitor, are you?” 

Uncle tells him to commit treason, and with every word, Azula can feel her brother coming closer and closer to her. She is magnanimous, pretends to give him a choice , and plays into his deepest desires that he wears on his sleeve for all the world to see. 

He is wavering, and Azula is so close to victory that she can taste it, but she is nothing but endlessly patient, so she lets him stew in his own conflict and leaves the room in pursuit of her other, airbending target. 

She chases them back to the first room, and- 

Uncle is gone. 

She can see the bodies of the Dai Li agents that she left to guard them, and Zuko is standing there, looking every day of his eighteen years, and she has never been more furious in her entire life. 

“Wrong choice, brother.”

The battle should have been over as soon as it started, because she is outnumbered, but she is still Princess Azula, prodigy firebender and only wielder of blue flames, so she keeps all three of them at bay and tries desperately to gain an advantage that she can press. Where are the Dai Li? Not that she needs them, of course, but it would be nice to have them behind her where they can tip the battle easily in her favor. 

She realizes, too, that her brother has improved. Somewhere on his field trip through the Earth Kingdom he has finally learned his potential, and he fights surely and confidently, his flames almost golden. 

But no matter. She has one thing that he can never hope to possess. 

She separates the energies around herself, and points it at the Avatar as he tries to connect to his otherworldly self. It is a sure shot, and she sees him fall in her mind’s eye, but then- 

Zuko is there, drawing the bolt towards himself and throwing it back towards her, and she can barely jump out of the way. And to her astonishment, the waterbending peasant traps her in ice, and her hands are covered, and so is her mouth, and she cannot move- 

As he hauls the Avatar out of the room, Zuko looks back at her, and she thinks that she sees something like regret flash in his eyes. But it is gone as soon as it appears, and with the end of the waterbender’s braid whipping around the corner, he is gone, and Azula is left alone with her failure. 

Mai and Ty Lee find her, and assure her that the city is still hers. 

Still, when she sits on the throne, her legs shake as she crosses them over each other, and she has to take a minute to stop her hands from trembling before Mai lets the Dai Li in for their next assignment. Ty Lee fills the silence by chattering about something or the other that she saw in the city, and the Dai Li wait in silence as Azula pretends to listen while desperately trying to compose herself. 

Later that night, when the training room crackles with ozone, both of her friends will pretend they notice nothing, and they leave for the Fire Nation the next day. 

“Princess Azula.” 

She will become a waterbender before she admits it, but this meeting with her father was one she that she had been dreading the entire trip back to the capital, after sending the missive off with the hawk, pretending that her hands weren’t shaking. She had locked herself in her room and ran cold katas the entire day each day of the return journey, steadfastly ignoring Ty Lee and her perpetual cheer and Mai with her apathy, because somehow both of their contrasting moods had made her want to fling her headpiece into the ocean. 

Now, she waits for her Father to allow her to rise as she kowtows on the floor in front of his throne. Thankfully, the throne room is empty except for the two of them, so no one will be there to witness her failure. 

But they will know. 

“Rise.” She does, and looks up at him on one knee. She can see nothing of her father other than his silhouette in the flames, but he can see every shift in her expression, so she keeps her face carefully blank and hopes that he will not divine the way her heart is pounding underneath her armor. There is a dull screaming in her head, one that sounds irritatingly like the waterbender when Azula threw lightning at the Avatar, but by pure force of will, she forces it back. She will need all her wits around her for this next conversation, or she will pay the price in blood and sweat. 

“Report on the state of Ba Sing Se,” Father says, his voice deceptively smooth. 

“Ba Sing Se is firmly under your control, Father. The Dai Li are loyal to the Fire Nation, and I have placed a mind-controlled administrator in charge until General Bujing’s forces arrive to fortify the stronghold. The Earth Kingdom has fallen to the Fire Lord at last,” she says. The war has officially been won, as the Water Tribes are decimated, and the last Earth Kingdom stronghold has fallen to Fire, but she knows that it is not enough for her father. 

Nothing short of perfection is expected from her, and for the first time, she has not delivered. 

“And yet, I have not won,” Father leans forward on the dais. “Where is the Avatar, Azula? Where is your traitor brother and uncle? Why are they not in chains at my feet, as I ordered?” 

She swallows, and forces her voice to remain steady. The screaming in her head has returned, and she does not have the energy to push it out of her mind. 

“They will be yours soon, Father. This was nothing more than a temporary setback-” 

“No, Princess Azula. It was a failure, nothing more.”

There is a beat of silence. Nothing she can say will change the fact that she failed in Ba Sing Se. She should have had Ty Lee with her to chi-block Zuko and Uncle when she had the chance, and she should have immediately killed the Avatar as soon as she saw him, and secured his lifeless body. 

(Even if that lifeless body would have been that of a fourteen year old child. She pushes that thought away, pushes it to where thoughts about Zuko’s farce of an Agni Kai reside.)

“While your failure is regrettable, and a blight on our family’s honor, it has already happened, and nothing can be done for now. We must now move on to other things. I have decided that it is time for you to fulfill your other duty as a princess. You are, after all, sixteen years old now. And it is a fine time for a royal wedding. A strong alliance with one of our great noble families is exactly what the Royal Family needs now.”

A princess is always composed. A princess is always composed. She inclines her head to her father.

“As always, your wisdom knows no bounds, Father. You are absolutely right. I will be glad to fulfill my duty and marry.” There is nothing else she can say. 

“I expected nothing less. You are dismissed, Azula.” 

She bows and leaves, but inwardly, she is reeling. Married? Now? She is a prodigy firebender, a tactical genius, and a shrewd military commander. This is no idle boast; she knows this to be true. There are a hundred different ways that her father can use her talents, from governorship to inspection of the colonies. 

And yet, he has chosen to marry her off. 

The tapestries adorning the wall blur past her as she stalks down the halls, and she barely waits until she is inside her room before she sinks to the ground against the closed door, willing the spinning in her head to subside. The screaming from before is louder than ever, and there is a new voice in the mix. 

It sounds like a young boy, screaming after his father burned off half of his face. 

The screaming reaches fever pitch before she does the only thing that she can. She holds up a fistful of flames, and forces herself to breathe with the azure flickering of the fire that is so familiar to her.

This, at least, she has not lost. 

The engagement is announced the next day. 

Apparently Father had begun making the preparations once he had received word from her in Ba Sing Se. She is to marry Major Ito Haruto, son of Admiral Ito Ichiro. Ichiro is in her father’s War Council, and is one of his staunchest supporters. 

He has also lost a son to the war, so she supposes this is Father’s way of keeping him satisfied. 

Haruto himself is alright, except for the fact that he is ten years older than her. He is fairly uninteresting, but he is one of few men who aren’t terrified of her, which is deeply ungratifying. 

Still, she supposes it could be worse. 

Ty Lee hugs her tightly when she finds out. 

“This is amazing, Azula! We’re going to have so much fun preparing for the wedding!” she says, a wide smile on her face. But her words lack her normal exuberance, and her hands linger on Azula’s arms. Azula should pry her hands off, tell Ty Lee to know her place. 

But she doesn’t. 

(A conversation overheard during one of their many state dinners: one of the generals, sneering about how he had found out two men in his battalion were involved , and how he had promptly discharged them both dishonorably for inappropriate conduct. And her father, his face twisted in disgust, scoffing about cowardly deviants, and how such people were nothing more than detriments to the March of Civilization.

Azula realizing that there was one thing that she had to keep secret no matter what, and realizing why Ty Lee had cartwheeled her way through the Earth Kingdom with her traveling circus.) 

Mai, who sits in the corner, meets Azula’s eyes, and allows a glimmer of something past her emotionless mask. She holds eye contact, and her gaze is as steely as the knives that twist around her gloved fingers. 

Engagement contracts in the Fire Nation are signed in the last light of day. 

They are made between both families, so Azula sits cross legged on the mat one step behind her father and affixes her seal to the document that the Fire Sage hands her. In front of her, Admiral Ichiro is watching her, as if he is calculating something, and Azula raises an eyebrow at him, unimpressed. 

He quickly turns away, glancing instead at his son’s dark head as he bends down to sign the document. Since he is not royalty or the head of a noble house, Haruto has to sign his name with ink, unlike Azula, who simply presses her stamp to the parchment. 

Once everything is done, Ichiro bows at her father from his seated position. 

“My Lord, I once again thank you for this advantageous match that you have benevolently bestowed upon my family. I am forever in your debt.”

“Of course, Admiral. The great Ito family has strong bending blood, and it would be a folly not to combine our houses to produce the next generation of the Royal Family.” This, at least, she knows is untrue. There are several other noble houses with equal strength of bending, and the admiral knows this too. It is why he has gone along with every single demand that Father has made of him. 

Inwardly, she scoffs. 

Has this man no backbone? 

(She ignores the voice in the back of her head saying that if the admiral was a spineless coward, what was she?) 

She follows her father out of the pavilion in which the signing ceremony was conducted, as the sun slips over the horizon. It is colder, somehow. 

The date of the wedding is announced. It is set to be three days before the eclipse, and the proximity to the Day of Black Sun shows how little Father really thinks of the invasion that will surely be put on by the Avatar and his little ragtag group of peasants and traitors. 

Azula goes to sleep exhausted most days, having run training sets all day. She has mastered all her forms, of course, but a princess never lets up, and she keeps herself in rigid practice. Her wrists are permanently bandaged from too-warm hands gripping them when she falters. When she goes to watch her friends train, Mai’s lips tighten at the sight of her bandaged wrists, and Ty Lee pulls her inside her room afterwards. There, she produces a stringent-smelling balm. She unwraps Azula’s wrists, and rubs the cool ointment over the burns. It is only a temporary reprieve, because the next day, it happens all over again. 

When you are perfect, you can only fall. 

The wedding is tomorrow. 

It will occur at dawn, and Azula has all night to get ready. 

It is a few minutes before midnight, and Azula sits in her room, as Ty Lee runs a comb through her hair. The motion is repetitive and soothing, and Azula closes her eyes as she feels the teeth of the comb scrape against her scalp. Her friend is unusually quiet today, and the silence sits heavy between the three of them, with Mai sitting on the bed and studying a knife like it holds the secrets of the world. 

After she is seemingly satisfied with the luster of Azula’s hair, Ty Lee sets the comb down and moves aside so that Mai can take over. Azula hears the silk of Mai’s robes rustle as she settles behind her. Mai moves Azula’s head slightly, and begins to braid something into her hair. It smells like jasmine. 

Suddenly, Azula is transported back too many years to count, and sees herself lounging in her mother’s room as she gets ready for some important function. Azula cannot be more than four years old, and she hangs upside down from a chaise lounge while Mother dabs jasmine perfume at the pulse point on her wrists. Azula flips upright, and bounds up and asks to have some too, because her mother looked very grown up when she tipped the bottle to her wrist. Mother laughs, and dabs perfume at Azula’s wrist, too. 

Azula comes back to herself with a start, and Mai murmurs softly behind her as she adjusts her head again. Azula barely registers it. 

Why had she remembered Mother? After Grandfather died, Azula had done her best to put the woman out of her mind, and it had worked, for seven years. There had been other things to focus on, like showing up her brother, impressing Father, and making sure that Mai and Ty Lee’s training went along at the pace that she expected. There had been no time to stop and think of the woman who had left to protect her son, and had not left a single thought for the daughter she believed to be beyond saving. 

So why did she remember Mother today, on her wedding day? 

And then she realizes. 

When she has children, she will provide her father with the continuation of his line. It is no secret that her grandfather, Fire Lord Azulon, only married Father to Mother because of the fact that Mother’s grandfather was Avatar Roku, and Grandfather wanted to join two strong bending lineages and see how powerful their children would be. She would say that the experiment worked out pretty well, considering Azula’s prodigal firebending. 

But when Azula marries, there will be pressure for her to have children. And after that, her father will not need her anymore. She already won him Ba Sing Se, and she has failed him by not capturing the Avatar or the traitors in their family. Even if she rectifies this failure in the future, he will not care for her survival, because he will still have an heir. 

She will become expendable, and the vultures will descend. 

She does not realize that she is breathing hard until Mai’s hands are on her shoulders, her touch feather light: I am here. Azula’s traitorous hands are shaking again. She brings them up to eye level, and on a whim, brings her wrist up to sniff. Jasmine. 

“What- what perfume is that?” she manages to croak out, hating herself for how weak her voice sounds. Ty Lee moves to squat in front of her, at her eye level. 

“It’s a jasmine perfume. They dabbed it on your wrists a while ago,” she says, her voice gentle, like she’s talking to a spooked animal. 

“What’s wrong, Azula?” Mai asks, and her voice is low, soft, quiet ( ladylike, Mother would say). She comes around to sit on the floor next to Ty Lee, her robes whispering secrets against the lacquered floor. 

“I’m going to end up like her.” It is a whispered confession, torn from some hidden place inside Azula, that had seen the way that her face was growing into her absent mother’s features, how she wore her hair completely up in a topknot to avoid looking like Ursa, her hair falling down her back, her mouth a slant of disapproval, long sleeves to hide burns around her wrists- 

“Like who?” It is an unnecessary question from Ty Lee, but maybe Azula needs to say it. Needs to say what has been bothering her from the day that she rose from a kneeling position in front of her father when she returned from Ba Sing Se, the salt from the ocean air still in her hair. 

“Like my mother. Trapped in the palace, until I’m unnecessary, and then I’m gone, but- but I was gone the moment I birthed my child.” And wasn’t that the truth of it? The second that her mother had had her, the strong child with the spark in her eyes, her mother had become useless. She had languished within the suffocating red walls of the palace, useless even to raise her children, because her husband had punished one child for acting like her, and had praised the other for going out of her way to antagonize her. Both of her children had suffered, and in the end, she slipped away into the night, leaving them to a father who was willing to publicly burn one and sell the other. 

She looks up at her closest friends, the two girls who she had manipulated and used to conquer a kingdom, but who now look at her with concern in their eyes nonetheless as she falls from the stars, falling until she crashes to the ground in a pile of silk and crushed jasmine. 

“I need to leave. I can’t stay here.” She expects them to be surprised, for their eyes to widen and for their heads to whip around to see if anyone is listening, but Ty Lee only nods emphatically, and Mai’s lips thin into a determined line. 

“Well, duh. Took you long enough,” Mai says, sounding for all the world like they are talking about getting ready for a night out on the town and not committing treason and sedition. Ty Lee gets up abruptly, and walks over to a cabinet, and rummages around in it. Azula watches them helplessly as they bustle around her room, pulling things out of shelves and cupboards and cabinets. 

“What are you both doing?” she asks faintly, sinking into the chair that she is supposed to be getting ready for her wedding in. They look up at her in surprise, like they forgot she was there in the room. 

“We’re getting our stuff together! So we can leave!” Ty Lee says, and there is that exuberance that has been muted for the last couple of weeks, and Azula can only gape, because- what?

“We knew you would want to leave, because no way in hell was Princess Azula getting fucking married , and if you left, we would probably be tortured for allegedly aiding and abetting a traitor, so we decided that we would aid and abet anyways,” Mai says airily as she places three bags in front of Azula. “So let’s go. We don’t have much time.” 

Azula looks at her friends. They are absolutely serious, and they have obviously thought this through. She nods. 

“Let’s go.”

The next hour is a blur, as the three of them finalize everything and do everything that they possibly can to throw any pursuers off of their scent. They decide that they will head to one of the eastern Fire Nation islands. No one ever comes there from the mainland. The farthest east most mainlanders come is Ember Island, anyways, and so they don’t expect to be bothered here. Azula only comes back into herself when they are on a war balloon, powered by her own firebending. She realizes with a start that she has been mechanically punching fire into the furnace of the balloon for the last twenty minutes, and looks up. 

Mai and Ty Lee are sitting on the floor of the balloon, and they look up when she does. She sees that Ty Lee is fiddling with the end of her braid, and Mai is idly tossing a knife and catching it. Azula checks their speed, and when she is satisfied that they are traveling as fast as they possibly can, she settles down across from them. 

“What now?” she asks. It is a little disorienting to not be the one with the plan, but she finds that she is strangely at peace with not being in control. “I am hoping one of you brought a map.” 

Mai rolls her eyes, and that gesture at least is comforting in its familiarity. “Of course I did. And now our stupid Aerial Navigation class from school will finally come in handy.” She pulls a scroll out of her pack, spreads it out on the floor, and holds it in place with three of her shuriken. Ty Lee points at one of the islands. 

“We’re going to go to Shu Jing, because Master Piandao is in charge there, and Mai knows him from when he taught her to throw knives, and he’s apparently super cool! So we should be fine there. Mai said that we should only have another hour until we get there.”

“...when did she say this?” Azula is utterly lost, because she would have definitely remembered such a conversation. 

“It was when we got on the balloon, and you zoned out and bent so much fire into the furnace that I thought we were going to blow up or something,” Mai says, and swiftly rolls up the scroll. “Anyways. You guys can get some rest. It shouldn’t be that much longer.” At this, Ty Lee curls up and promptly falls asleep, although Azula knows from experience that Ty Lee is a notoriously light sleeper and will get up at the slightest indication of trouble. She’s not too worried about that, but she cannot bring herself to rest. She stays crouched by the furnace, making sure that they are wringing every last knot of speed out of the balloon. 

Mai goes back to tossing her knife, although she does make minute corrections to their course. Azula suddenly has a bizarre vision of the three of them manning a ship, with Mai at the helm, Azula at the engine, and Ty Lee perched at the lookout. She snorts lightly to herself, and punches more fire into the furnace. They fly on. 

Sooner than she would have hoped, they touch down lightly in Shu Jing province. They hide their balloon, and purge all proof of their existence in it. They might need it later, but right now, it could give them away to any pursuers. So far, Azula hasn’t seen anyone come after them, but she has not achieved as much as she has by being optimistic. 

(And look where that’s gotten you, a voice says in her mind, a voice that sounds suspiciously like Mother. She pushes it away immediately. Look where optimism got you, Mother. )

It is still in the gray predawn hours, but they have no idea what is happening in the island right now, so Mai tells them to stay put while she scouts ahead. There is little to no tree growth on this part of the island because of the canyon, so Azula and Ty Lee stow themselves in a rock fissure in the canyon wall, and watch as Mai disappears around the corner and out of sight. They sit in tense, anticipatory silence until Mai returns, half an hour later. Her face is even more stony than usual. 

“There are people at the estate. I think they’re White Lotus,” she says, and accepts a waterskin from Ty Lee. She takes a sip, and hands it back, and says, “Azula, this could mean that-” 

“I know. There’s a possibility that we’re going to have a family reunion in the near future, if Uncle’s little tea group is in league with Piandao.” They all know that the Order of the White Lotus is much more than a simple tea group, especially after Ba Sing Se, because there is no way that Iroh was able to settle so comfortably in the Upper Ring of the city that he nearly conquered without help. Azula takes a breath, and tries to think like a tactician again, after how frazzled she has become in the last few hours.

“This also means that they already saw you watching them. And if there’s one person who’s better at stealth than you, Mai, it’s my dear brother. If Zuko is there, so is the Avatar and his merry band of misfits.” She feels, rather than sees, the both of them tense. “Although I must say, it seems as though we are in a case of the-enemy-of-my-enemy right now. I have no inclination whatsoever in capturing the Avatar, or Zuko and Uncle, for Father. So let’s let the White Lotus lose their shit over why we’re here, and let them come to us.” She grins lazily at them, feeling more like herself than ever before. “What say you, girls?” 

The smiles that they shoot back at her are sharper than the most deadly shuriken in Mai’s arsenal.

The sun has just risen when a shadow darkens the concealed entrance to their makeshift rock shelter. Azula rolls her shoulders, and she hears the knives slip into Mai’s fingers and Ty Lee’s feet moving into position, but she suspects that she knows who it is. Only one person can move so silently, and it sure isn’t any old, tea-drinking man. 

“Hello, dear brother,” she drawls. “Long time no see.” 

He steps into sight, and his expression is uncharacteristically unreadable. He takes them in, and then sits on the ground in front of them, back straight and legs crossed. 

“Hello, Azula. Mai, Ty Lee,” he rasps, his voice rougher than usual. He must have just woken up, but he looks as alert as ever. He seems to study her, his mismatched eyes shining bright gold. She takes the opportunity to do the same. He wears dark blue and white robes, with the motif of a pai sho tile. She assumes it is the garb of the Order, and not peasant clothing of the Water Tribes. His hair has been pulled into a semi-respectable topknot, although she can see several too-short hairs falling out of place. Such hair would have never been acceptable at home, but here, amidst the wild beauty of the canyon and river rushing through it, it is strangely not out of place. She realizes that he is wearing some sort of crown, with two leaf-shaped pieces on each side of his topknot. It is strangely familiar, but she cannot for the life of her remember where she has seen it. 

She looks back at his face, and sees him frowning. 

“What,” she says flatly. He seems to be struggling to say something. There is some emotion on his face now, that she can’t quite place. It is disconcerting to not be able to read him like an unrolled scroll. 

“Why are there flowers in your hair?” 

Azula blinks. Out of all the questions that she expected him to ask, this is definitely not one. But someone behind her, Ty Lee, she thinks, inhales sharply and she realizes why. 

She looks down at herself. Her robes are rumpled and slightly creased, but they are of fine make, elaborate designs picked out in red thread on golden silk. They are much more exquisite than her normal robes or armor, and her arms and wrists and ankles are adorned with gold jewelry that she barely remembers putting on. 

And her hair is braided with jasmine, braided by Mai’s deft fingers into a coil that is falling undone now, spilling petals and blooms over her dark hair and golden anarkali.

Shit. 

The Royal Family wears red at all times. There are only two occasions when they do not: funerals, and weddings. 

Zuko seems to come to the realization at the same time that she realizes exactly why she has run away to this eastern island, and his eyes widen in horror, and he looks her in the eye.

“Azula, did he- did he try to get you married?” 

Chapter Text

In the end, she tells him everything. 

She doesn’t even intend to, but a jasmine flower falls into her hand from where it’s loosely tucked into her hair and the entire debacle comes falling out of her lips. There is a voice in the back of her head that sounds a lot like Father, who tells her that she is consorting with traitors and has thus dishonored herself and her country. 

Well. She ran away from her own contractually obligatory wedding. She can handle a little more dishonor. 

Her friends are nearly silent behind her, except for when they relate the initial moments of the balloon ride, when Azula had zoned out. 

Afterwards, her brother seems to have lost his words. She pretends to examine the petals of the flower in her hand as he grapples with what he has missed. 

“Azula-” 

“Oh, don’t pretend to feel sorry for me, Zuzu. You are the one who decided not to take me up on my offer to go home. My failure is entirely your fault!” She sneers at him, because the only comfort she can find right now is in antagonizing him, but it doesn’t even work. He only shakes his head at her. 

“You know as well as I do that if I had come with you, it would have been in the hold of your ship, not as a prince. Father wants me as a prisoner, and I couldn’t let that happen. Plus, you tried to kill Aang, Azula. I did what I had to,” he says, sounding sincere, but not apologetic. His expression is soft, like he wants to say something, but doesn’t know how to do it. 

“So what? He’s an enemy to our nation, and I was only doing my duty.”

“No, Azula, you were trying to kill a child . A child who isn’t even a fully realized Avatar.” He seems to come to a realization with himself, and squares his shoulders. “Anyways, that’s not why I’m here. I assume you three came here to seek sanctuary with Master Piandao?” At Mai’s nod, he continues. “He is prepared to grant you sanctuary, on several conditions. But most importantly, I need your word that you will not attack anyone in that house without provocation. All of you, and I mean it. There are too many important plans being made for you to barge in, hands blazing. Understood?” 

“And what if I refuse?” 

He shrugs. “If you refuse, then you can get the hell off of this island. There are probably people chasing you, and we don’t need them coming here if you won’t cooperate. And I feel sorry for you, Azula, but I can’t help you if you won’t let me. I have a war to end.” At this, she studies him closer, her eyes narrowing. He is carrying himself with a newfound confidence, and there is nothing but determination in his eyes. And then she realizes something. 

“They’re grooming you, aren’t they? After you kill Father, and you kill me, they want you to become Fire Lord.” She laughs hysterically, because of course . In the new world order, they can’t crown crazy Princess Azula, so they would crown the traitor prince instead. 

“No one is going to kill you.” 

“That’s what you think. But what does the great Order think? The great Order whose robes you wear? They’re probably going to slit my throat the second that I walk in through those double doors. This was supposed to be a sanctuary, Zuzu, for me to get away from my stupid wedding, but you and dear Uncle just had to come in and ruin everything, like you always do!” She finishes almost at a shout, and her brother is staring at her. 

“Azula, are- are you all right?” There is pity in his eyes, pity for his crazy, violent sister, and she cannot take it anymore. 

“ Get out! Get out of my sight!” 

She is well aware that she is announcing her presence to any peasant within a five mile radius with her yelling, but right now she simply does not care. Especially not when Zuko gets to his feet with an indescribable expression on his face, and why can she not tell what he is thinking anymore? 

“I’ll come and get you around noon. You won’t have to meet with the members of the Order if you don’t want to, but time is running out. I’m going to need your cooperation.” 

And with that, he bows slightly to them and leaves, that odd headpiece catching the midmorning sun. 

It takes Azula an embarrassing amount of time to calm herself down, until she no longer wants to propel herself up into the air with her firebending and destroy the stupid estate mocking her with its lotus motifs on the gate and on the door. Mai and Ty Lee leave her alone, and when she finally gains control of herself, they are finishing up breakfast. There is a third portion left out in front of them, and she takes the clay plate and sits down in front of them. 

“So, what’d our next move, Princess?” Mai asks, setting down her own empty plate.

“Don’t call me that,” Azula says sharply. Mai shrugs. 

“Why not? As far as I know, you’re still the princess.” 

Azula rolls her eyes. “Don’t be dense, Mai. I ran away from my own wedding, the wedding that I signed a contract for. A legally binding contract, witnessed by the Fire Lord. I am as good as a traitor. Therefore, no longer a princess.” 

Mai hums softly, twirling a knife around her fingers. “Contracts witnessed by the Fire Lord are only binding for as long as that Fire Lord reigns.” 

There is a beat of silence. Azula boggles at her. 

“What are you suggesting, dear Mai?” 

“Only that you have an interest in working with your brother, unlike what you may have previously thought,” Mai drawls, tossing the knife up and catching it between two fingers. Azula narrows her eyes at her. 

“Are you telling me to work with Zuko? And crown him so that I don’t have to marry the man my father betrothed to me? That sounds an awful lot like treason, you know.” 

“We’ve already committed treason. You just found your brother, and you haven’t killed him or captured him, both of which you could have definitely done when he was in here to talk to you. Don’t pretend like you’re doing exactly what the Fire Lord wants. You ran away from your own wedding. Which, fine. Whatever. We literally helped you do it. But if you want to hide in this stupid rock cave and ignore reality, then go ahead.” 

They’re all quiet for a second. Then Ty Lee flops back on the ground and sighs dramatically, in such a good impression of Mai that Azula nearly does a double take. “Are we going to get out of here or not?” 

Azula squints at Mai. “Are you sure this isn’t some attempt at manipulating me so that you can suck face with Zuko?” 

Mai levels her with a flat stare. “Why would I try to manipulate you ?”

Azula hums. “Just checking.” 

She decides that she’ll hear what her brother has to say. Just to know her options, of course. 

Zuko arrives at noon exactly, when the sun is at the highest point in the sky, and the power of Agni runs the strongest through her veins. His skin glistens with sweat, and there are several strands of hair loose from his topknot. His dual swords are strapped to his back. He must have been training, she thinks absently, and resolves to spar with him to see just how good he has gotten. Their fight in Ba Sing Se was hardly an indicator of his skill, as Azula was outnumbered and desperate, and he had the literal Avatar on his side. 

She, Mai, and Ty Lee had already packed her bags, and so they are ready for him when he ducks into their cave. They follow him out wordlessly, and Azula delights in the ability to feel the sun on her face. She wonders absently what Haruto had done when he had showed up in his finery to a wedding that would never happen. Then she thinks of how his father’s face had probably purpled in rage and feels darkly vindicated. She realizes that she hates the man, and how he had been so eager to tie her to his son forever, and join their lineages. How in Agni’s name had she gone along with that wedding for so long? 

She looks to her right, at the mottled scar on Zuko’s face, and realizes why. 

Soon enough, they are at the house. Zuko leads them through the gates, past two blue-robed sentries, and through the double doors, where the stone floor is cool under her thin sandals. On any other day, she wouldn’t have been caught wearing such insensible footwear, but she hadn’t had time to change out of her wedding outfit before she left, and for some reason, hadn’t wanted to after she reached the cave. 

At her left, she sees Ty Lee looking around in interest at their surroundings. The house is simply, but tastefully furnished, and there are men and women walking through the hallways with purpose, all wearing the blue and white of the White Lotus. She ignores them all. They are of no use to her. 

Finally, Zuko stops in front of a door. “Master Piandao is here. He wants to talk to you three.” Azula’s lips thin. They cannot refuse to talk to the man, because they had originally intended to seek sanctuary from him anyways, but he is still a White Lotus member, and will surely tell everything to Uncle. She turns to glare at her brother as she walks in. 

Master Piandao is a middle-aged man with lined dark skin that makes him look much older than he probably is. She remembers how he supposedly took a hundred men down when he deserted from the army, and notes the long sword at his hip. Then she flashes him a sharp smile, the kind that made hardened generals flinch. To his credit, he only rises to his feet and bows, his face pleasant. 

“Princess Azula. An honor to have you at my humble abode. Mai, good to see you again.” 

“Hello, Master Piandao,” Mai says, bowing back to him. Azula stays silent. 

“Princess Azula, will you and your entourage sit down? I am sure that we have much to discuss. May I offer you a cup of tea?” Azula sits, and sees Mai and Ty Lee do the same, but the thought of tea reminds her of Iroh, so she refuses it. Zuko leans against the wall in between her and the swordmaster, the hilts of his swords just visible at his back. Azula eyes Piandao, waiting for his next move. 

“May I inquire as to the nature of your visit to my province, your highness? I was under the impression that you were preparing for the invasion.”

“Let’s cut to the chase. I am here to offer a partnership,” she says. Piandao raises one brow.

“Oh? And what do you have to offer in this partnership, Princess Azula? Will you offer your flames, to fight against the Fire Lord? Will you offer intelligence of the Fire Lord’s plans?” He leans forward. “Are you willing to outright go against your father?” 

Azula keeps her face perfectly blank, but inside, she is spinning. Of course she had known what partnering with the White Lotus would entail, but she had foolishly not expected to be asked to pledge herself to their cause so quickly. There are spots dancing in front of her eyes, and the screaming from before has returned. So many voices mingle together in her head, growing so loud, and she has to physically stop herself from rubbing her temples. Everyone’s eyes are on her, she knows, and she needs- 

“I need time to decide,” she says. “But you have my word that I will not attack anyone in this house, nor will I communicate with anyone on the outside. And neither will my companions.” It is a concession that she intended on making anyways, because the thought of Mai or Ty Lee, or even Zuko, getting hurt in the crossfire that would ensue if she turned violent is something that threatens to bring the screams back, and her head is already pounding. 

Piandao inclines his head, and they are shown to their rooms. 

She sits on the bed, and stares at her hands. They were manicured the previous night, two nameless girls rubbing rose hip oil into her palms and shaping her nails. She sits on the bed, and tries to slow her breathing, when there is a knock at her door. She sighs, a long drawn out sound that would have made Mai proud. 

“Come in, Zuzu.” 

He does, and leans against the closed door, arms crossed. 

“You can avoid talking to Piandao, but you can’t avoid talking to me. Why are you really here, Azula? It’s been hours; your trail is already cold. No one from the Capital will find you in the Eastern Islands. You could even go to Ember Island, if you wanted. So what are you doing here?” 

“What if I just wanted to see my dear older brother?” she asks, sickly sweet. 

“No. I can’t let you stay here without you actually talking to me for once. What the hell is going on? Since when have you run away from Father?” 

She fixes him with a glare, but he only frowns at her. 

“Fine. If I must. The truth of the matter is, I had the misfortune of entering an engagement contract, witnessed by the Fire Lord and consecrated by his flame. It stipulated that I was to marry Major Ito Haruto, of the great Ito family, at dawn today.” Her voice has turned bitter, but she finds, suddenly, that she does not care. She glances at her brother, to gauge his reaction. He only looks concerned. It seems that the invitation to her wedding had not been extended to the provinces of the Eastern Islands, and somehow the mysterious White Lotus had not gotten wind of her impending nuptials. Why would they, when the eclipse was days away? 

“And I was going to marry him, until I realized-” She cuts herself off. Her traitorous throat has closed up on her, and she swallows harshly, pressing her lips together. There is a new sound in her head now, and it is the crackling of lightning. Her father’s lightning, to be precise, on the day that he had shown it to her for the first time for her to learn. She had been thirteen, newly declared a firebending master, and Father had decided that her training was not quite complete without mastering the cold fire as well. Her eyes had widened when he obliterated the training dummy, and too-hot hands had descended on her shoulders at that slight show of fear. You will not fear it, Princess Azula. You will master it, and you will not fail. 

“Azula?” 

She collects herself, and breathes out sharply through her nose. Then she looks up calmly.

“I was going to marry him, until I realized that it would render me useless. I would cease to be of any consequence to Father the minute that I married and produced an heir. I could die, for all he cared, and my puppet husband would be my child’s regent, and I would slip away, forgotten. I have already failed in his eyes by not securing you, or dear Uncle, or the Avatar. I would be nothing, and I can’t be nothing.” She doesn’t even realize that there are tears in her eyes until they fall on her lap, on her golden wedding anarkali , embroidered in Imperial Red silk thread, and covered in the characters for fidelity, fertility, and duty. She takes a shaky breath. 

“And anyways, I cannot be bound to my idiot betrothed if the Fire Lord who witnessed the signing of the contract is no longer the Fire Lord. And these old kooks that you are consorting with would never place me as Fire Lord, not when they have the rightful Crown Prince with them, so here I am. You don’t have the spine to marry me off, and neither would I let you, not when I can help you crush him.”

“Crush who, Azula?” 

There is a scathing retort on her lips to his mild question, when she stops. She needs to say it. Not only for him, and the Order that he must persuade to allow her to partner with them, but for herself. 

For the seven year old girl who burned the midnight oil studying military history while her brother was told bedtime stories by a loving mother. For the nine year old girl who had been filled with the cold dread that her brother was going to be killed at their father’s hand, and she could not even show it. For the eleven year old girl who had forced herself to smile as her father burned away half of her brother’s face. For the thirteen year old girl that slipped into the infirmary to get ointment for the fingerprint-shaped burns on her arms, when just that morning she had failed to produce lightning, yet again. For the fifteen year old girl who had ruthlessly quelled her own shaking after seeing her brother for the first time in four years, and had to hunt him down. For the sixteen year old girl, who had only just allowed herself to realize how little she mattered to her warmongering father. The girl who had fallen from the sky, having flown too close to the sun. 

“Crush Fire Lord Ozai, of course. Who else?” She says, forcing a cold smile onto her face. But her voice betrays her, and her lips are trembling, and she digs her nails into her palms until she feels blood beading on her skin, her perfect, royal skin. And her next breath turns into something between a gasp and a sob, and Zuko is there, pulling her into his arms, and he is warm and strong and smells like wood smoke, and she grips him tightly and allows herself to finally relax for the first time in five years. She turns her face into his neck, and his hand cups the back of her head, and she has missed her brother so much, the grinning boy who taught her to climb trees and catch cherries in her mouth, who loved her even when she used it against him. 

She has no idea how long they stay there like that, both of them desperately trying to pretend that there are not tears streaming from their eyes, tears for the children that they had been and the children that they never could be. But in the end, she pulls away, and roughly swipes her sleeve over her eyes, loudly clearing her throat. 

“Can I take the flowers out of your hair?” he asks. She blinks. 

“Agni above, yes. ” He laughs, and settles behind her, and undoes her loose braid, pulling out the infernal jasmine flowers, until her hair falls down her back. He dumps the flowers in her hands, and she knows exactly what to do with them. 

She summons a small flame in her cupped palms, and the flowers turn to sweet-smelling ash. She stalks over to the window, throws it open, and blows the ashes out. It feels like finality. 

She takes her pack, and slips into the small attached bathroom to change into a tunic and pants that Ty Lee had surely taken from her closet, because Mai would never choose something with embroidery on it that didn’t serve as a hidden compartment. Then she takes the tie from her braid and pulls her hair up into a topknot, and instantly feels much better. Much more like herself, not the girl who was slipping away, half gone into a jasmine-scented void. 

When she emerges, Zuko is scrubbing a hand over his face, and Azula stops short. 

On his hands are webbed scars that she knows well. When her father had decided that she was to master lightning bending, she had looked up everything that she could find about it, and had come across a diagram of the scars that a person that survived a lightning attack was left with. Those same scars now cover the backs of Zuko’s hands. And then she is hit with cold horror. Those scars are from her, from when she had shot lightning at the child Avatar and he had thrown it back at her. She blinks rapidly, and forces her breath down. She will deal with this later. They have work to do, now. 

“Am I going to see the rest of Uncle’s crazy friends, or will we sit here and talk about our feelings until the comet?” She demands, needing to be imperious to feel normal. Zuko’s lips quirk. 

“I’m going to take you to see the Avatar, first. Katara would kill me if I let you stay here any longer without making appropriate threats to your structural integrity. Plus, I’m sure Mai and Ty Lee are bored of their rooms already, while we sat here talking about your feelings , as you put it.” He sounds amused, and yes, this she can deal with. 

“Who the hell is Katara? The waterbending peasant?” 

“Yeah. You know, the one who incapacitated you in Ba Sing Se?” 

Azula sniffs haughtily. “To be fair, I had just dodged lightning , dear brother. But first things first. The Avatar cannot try to invade the Capital on the day of the eclipse. It will fail spectacularly.” 

“Finally! Someone else who agrees! Maybe you can help me get it into Aang’s brain!”

“Who the hell is Aang?” 

Zuko groans loudly, and Azula only laughs. 

They collect Mai and Ty Lee. Ty Lee throws herself into Zuko’s arms, now that she is sure that they are on the same side, and refuses to let go until he hugs her back. Then she remarks on how tall he’s gotten, and he turns red. 

Never let it be said that Ty Lee is dumb. 

Then Mai, completely deadpan, pins him to the wall of her room and kisses him. Azula rolls her eyes and loudly complains about how slow this reunion is, but she is very much pleased by the satisfied smile on Mai’s lips when she pulls away from Zuko. 

Never let it be said that Mai has no emotions. She just knows when to keep them to herself. You can’t outsmart an enemy by telling them exactly what you’re thinking, of course. 

They make their way down the hallway, and Zuko’s violent blush has finally faded when they stop in front of a door. He knocks, and a cheery voice says, “Come in!” 

They do, and Azula looks around the room. There are four people inside, not counting a small furry animal that looks like a lemur (with wings?). One is a small girl wearing green, who she remembers to be a powerful earthbender. She sees the waterbending peasant and her brother, and the Avatar, who is smiling widely at the four of them as they enter. 

“Hey guys! My name is Aang, and this is Katara, Sokka, and Toph! It’s nice to finally meet you after chasing after us for so long!” She doesn’t know if he is being passive aggressive, but his smile seems genuine enough. The boy’s cheer baffles Azula, but she ignores it. 

“Hello, Avatar,” she says, but Zuko gives her a look. “Fine. Hello, Aang . I am Azula, and this is Mai and Ty Lee. We are prepared to help you take down my father. Let’s get down to business, shall we?” 

“Not so fast . Toph, can you tell if she’s lying?” Waterbending peasant, sorry, Katara, hisses. 

“I don’t know. Prissy, tell me a lie,” Toph says. She plants both bare feet on the ground. 

“I am a four hundred foot tall komodo rhino who likes eating tiny earthbenders for breakfast.” 

“Sorry, Sweetness. She’s a pretty good liar. My feet couldn’t sense anything.” 

Katara seems to steam. She bends out a whip of water, and holds it an inch from Azula’s throat. “If you step even one inch out of line, or do anything that could endanger Aang, I’ll make sure you never live to see your father. I don’t trust you one bit, and neither does Sokka, so no matter how nice Aang is to you, know that I’m watching you.” 

“I’d expect nothing else,” Azula says drily. “Now, can we get a move on?” 

They manage to convince Aang to cancel the invasion. 

It would never work anyways, because the Fire Nation has known about the coming solar eclipse since the last one happened a hundred years ago. It takes her, Mai, and Ty Lee talking about the casual failsafes and defenses already in place in the Capital to convince Aang that the invasion will not work. Sokka is surprisingly easy to convince, and he grasps the unnecessary risks fairly quickly. Katara, for all her idealism, isn’t dumb, and she understands pretty soon, too. Toph doesn’t particularly care, and Aang, while he isn’t stupid, thinks that this is the only time that he can defeat Ozai because- 

“You haven’t mastered firebending?”

“Uh, no. I’m not even done with earth yet, according to Toph. I tried fire with Jeong Jeong a while back, and, uh, it did not go well. I didn’t even want to firebend for the longest time.” 

She turns to her brother. “Zuko, why haven’t you begun to teach him firebending?” 

“No, no, that’s not what I meant!” Aang exclaims, jumping up and balancing on his stick contraption. “We’ve started, it’s just that I haven’t mastered it.”

“Well, I could teach you,” she offers. “We should be able to move quickly.”

“No.” To her surprise, the vehement refusal doesn’t come from Katara, but from Zuko. She looks at him in surprise. 

“Why not? Everyone knows that I’m better than you, Zuzu.”

He shakes his head, expression stony. “You don’t know how it is to learn Fire after fearing it, Azula. I will teach Aang. He’ll have more time now, anyways, now that he’s close to mastering Earth.” Azula thinks of a hand cradling a boy’s face, and then bursting into flames. She swallows down the bile that rises to her mouth, and nods. 

There is an awkward silence, and it’s burst by Toph saying loudly, “All right, Twinkletoes, let’s get a move on. I want to see you go off against that canyon.” She drags him off amidst his protests of Toph no one can go off against a canyon, what does that even mean? 

Azula turns out of the room to leave, because she cannot face Zuko right now, when a voice calls her. 

“Hey, Azula! Wait up for a second.” It is Sokka, and he strides up to her, a hand on the hilt of the sword at his side. She raises her eyebrows expectantly. 

“I want you to show me, on a map of the Capital City, exactly where all of the soldiers will be stationed during the eclipse, and what other stuff is going to be there. I know you already said it, but I want to see it on a map.” 

She nods, grateful for something that doesn’t have to do with the messy feelings that come up whenever she thinks of her brother being afraid of fire. This, she can do. 

The next day passes pretty normally. She sees Mai with Toph, throwing her knives while Toph feels them in the air and redirects their path. The fact that the girl had figured out how to bend metal is not a surprise to Azula, who saw Toph’s impressive earthbending up close in the Earth Kingdom. She avoids Zuko as he practices with Aang, although she notices how his corrections to Aang’s forms are firm but not unkind. She idly wonders when he had mastered his firebending, and then remembers Uncle and sneers. She also avoids Uncle, and doesn’t really interact with any White Lotus members except for Piandao, who greets her in the morning when she comes to the dining room for tea. 

Ty Lee gets along with everyone nearly instantly, and her and Aang form a terrifying duo of perpetual cheer. Azula practices her bending under the watchful eye of Katara, who even Azula can admit is a talented bender, and a definite master of her element. 

The eclipse comes and goes, and those eight minutes when her veins are empty of Agni’s blessing are terrifying . She spends it inside her room, door locked and windows shut tightly, so she doesn’t see the red staining the sky. It’s odd how the comet and the eclipse both turn the sky the same color, despite having opposite effects on those who drew their power from the sun. 

Weeks pass. One sunny morning, she finally feels like she is settling into her new skin when she finally meets other members of the White Lotus. She comes down for tea, and they are all there. It seems like an ambush, but she walks in anyways, her fire thrumming in her veins. She is itching for a fight, whether verbal or physical, and it seems like she will have one. 

She recognizes the mad King Bumi, and the defector Admiral Jeong Jeong, and of course Grand Lotus Uncle Iroh, apart from Piandao, who sits calmly with a cup of tea. There are others that she doesn’t know, like an old woman wearing Earth Kingdom robes and an old Water Tribe man with a severe expression. 

“Hello, niece. Please sit down,” Iroh says, his voice hard despite his mild expression. Someone slips in behind her and closes the door, and she recognizes the person to be Zuko. He takes up his position against the wall. 

She sits, and is poured a cup of tea which she ignores. She has hated jasmine tea her entire life, and she thinks that it is a deliberate slight on the part of her Uncle to ignore something that he definitely knows. 

“We will not waste time with pleasantries. Will you, or will you not fight against your father, Azula?” Iroh asks bluntly, and she almost appreciates that lack of circumlocution. Almost, because she still dislikes Iroh and his stupid jasmine tea. 

“I most certainly will, dear Uncle. What’s more, I’ve told Sokka everything I know about the Capital’s defenses.”

He is not satisfied with this, despite it being nothing but the truth. “What is your game, Azula? Why are you here, other than some sob story that you have told Zuko about your father? There is too much riding on the end of the war for you to come in here and try to ruin everything.” She sees Zuko stiffen, and Azula nearly sees red. She narrows her eyes. 

“Says you, General Iroh. The man who let Zuko look for a legend for five years while you sent messages off to your Order and played pai sho. The man who made most of the Fire Nation victories possible in the first place, and very nearly took Ba Sing Se. I’ve only been in active military duty for a few months. Most of you have fought for the Fire Nation for much longer, and yet you accuse me of ruining your plans, when all along I was only doing my duty. Or what I thought was my duty. Now I am here, and if you are going to call me a liar at least call me a liar for the things that I actually lie about. Don’t lecture me on sob stories, when you ignored your duty as the next Fire Lord and left us all to the tender mercies of Fire Lord Ozai while you mourned your son. You have absolutely no right. I did what I had to, to survive.” 

She is so angry now, because these old men are nothing but hypocrites who sneer at her even though she is sixteen and has been born into this war, and they are adults who should have stopped it instead of blaming her. She will admit that she is not blameless, but she knows now that she was never anything more than her Father’s pawn. 

There is a long silence, and Azula glares at all of them furiously. She will not be talked down to by old men who hid in their estates and ice fortresses and army camps and Upper Ring apartments for decades. 

“I will fight on your side, and you will have my cooperation, if not my respect. So if you are done blaming me for something that you have not done entirely enough to prevent, I will be on my way. Good day to you all.” 

She sweeps out of the room, feeling hot anger rise in her, and something else entirely. She stalks to the training courtyard, where Sokka is sparring with someone, stripped to the waist in the baking hot sun. He sees her, and stops. 

“Hey, Azula.” 

“Not now, Water Tribe.” He frowns, but leaves her alone, and picks his sword back up. Azula moves to a corner of the space where she can’t hurt anyone, and starts running through her firebending sets. The motions are repetitive, and drilled into her so deeply that she can go through them without thinking, and can lose herself in the monotony. She starts them cold, and then adds flame to the motions, sweeping, kicking, and punching bright blue fire. 

She has no idea how long she stays there, working off her frustrations, before a shadow slips into the courtyard. He exchanges words with Sokka, who nods and goes back inside, before coming to stand in front of her. 

“Do you want to spar?” Zuko asks, his voice quiet. Azula nods and gets into position. Her brother copies her, and waits. She remembers how, in Ba Sing Se, he had ran to the Avatar with the speed of an airbender, waited for her lightning bolt with the root of an earthbender, and redirected her lightning with the grace of a waterbender. Not for the first time, Azula wonders at the change in her brother from the snapping, frustrated thirteen year old that had gotten himself banished. 

Then again, she is nothing like the eleven year old girl who had laughed at hearing the terms of her brother’s banishment. 

She takes the offense, and he easily parts her flames, countering instead with a sweep of his arms. She sidesteps, spins, and kicks out at him, and their fight is on. They go back and forth, and she finds that she is enjoying herself; the first time that she has ever enjoyed sparring with him. When they were kids, she was always focused on making sure that she soundly trounced him, and their father’s watchful eye always took the pleasure of her win away. But now, she laughs as she jumps up and punches out fire at him. He has improved greatly in the weeks since their fight at Ba Sing Se, and his flames burn pure gold now, steady and warm. 

They call a stalemate, and Azula finds herself grinning at him as she flops on the ground indelicately. He does the same, dramatically falling on the ground and all of a sudden, they are three and five years old, chasing each other through the gardens, and laughing until their sides hurt. 

And then she sees those scars again. That terrible web of pink scars on the back of his hand. She doesn’t know why it surprised her to see them the other day; she knows that he had thrown her lightning back at her, and they had not been his own lightning, and so he had paid the price. In all honesty, it’s a small price to pay for holding the power of a storm in your hands, but still. 

The fact that she has scarred him, just a couple years after Father had, doesn’t sit right with her, and the screaming in her head begins to return, only now it’s Aang’s young voice crying out in pain. She reaches out, her hand suddenly shaking, to trace her fingers over the back of his hand. He stills, and lets her take his hand in hers, holding it up to the light. She feels the raised bumps of the scar, running over the back of his hand like a mockery of veins, and her vision is blurring because how could she have marked him, too? 

“Zuko, I’m-” Her voice breaks, and she wants to scream, echo the increasing volume of the voices screaming along in her head, and she wants to shatter the glass windows, shuttered in wood, stamped with that damned lotus motif. She wants to splinter the sky, pull it apart, and stuff the clouds in her veins so that she can fly again. 

“I’m sorry. For everything. For chasing you around the world, and for making you choose between what I couldn’t even offer you and what was right.” Because after weeks of staying here, in this White Lotus compound so far from the Capital, she knows that helping the Avatar defeat Father is the right thing to do, not only for the world, but for the Fire Nation. Shu Jing might prosper, but Azula knows, has always known in the back of her mind, that her country is suffering from a hundred years of war, of blood and death. And after seeing Ty Lee cartwheel down the hallways with reckless abandon, after seeing Mai smile after returning from some secluded corner of the house, her hand in Zuko’s, after seeing Katara with her fierce drive and Toph with her determined strength and Sokka with his understated intelligence, and after seeing Aang, the feared Avatar himself, leap from gable to gable of the house with his winged lemur, laughing , she knows that this is what is right, this is what is good in the world; not the false greatness that her father and his admirals and generals had promised. 

“I truly am sorry, Zuko. For the hellhole that your childhood was, and any role that I might have had in making it worse. And, for scarring you. After you got over what Father did to you.” She looks up at him. “That’s what you meant by being scared of fire, right?” Once, she might have sneered at his supposed weakness for fearing his element, the superior element. But years of wrapped bandages and stolen burn cream have disavowed her of that notion, even if she hadn’t realized it before. 

“Yes. And it took nearly a year to get over. And, uh, I forgive you. But Azula, it never was your fault. Not really. You just did what you needed to so that Father didn't kill you for not being useful anymore. So I don't blame you. I know some of the others do, but I've been there. I've been the one that outlived his usefulness.”

She doesn't know yet what to say to that. They are silent for a few minutes, as she desperately tries to change the subject, before she realizes something. 

“Wait. You redirected my lightning, but can you generate it in the first place?” 

He glances sideways at her, like he sees through her wild tangent. “I don’t know. I haven’t tried since before Ba Sing Se.” 

She goggles at him. “Well, then, what are we waiting for?” 

She teaches him lightning generation, and he teaches her lightning redirection, and she feels lighter than she has in a long time. To her delight, his lightning is a warm golden color, as compared to her electric blue. Apologizing to Zuko was something that she had not realized that she needed to do, but it feels good. So does watching him shoot golden lightning off of a cliff. There is a feeling in her, and she recognizes it as pride. 

Now, she strides down the hallway to attend a strategy meeting. Meaning a meeting of old men who think that she is going to doom them all, never mind that she has been nothing but helpful since she got here. She even gets along with Katara , even with her murderous intent against Azula. It hasn’t fazed Azula in the slightest. She’s used to dealing with people who would much rather kill her. 

Case in point, Uncle Iroh. 

She slips into her chair at the last second, and makes eye contact with Sokka, across from her. He nods to her, and begins to present his plan for infiltrating Boiling Rock Prison. The Kyoshi Warriors would be vital in the battle on the day of the Comet, and they are imprisoned there. Azula had been the one to give them that piece of information. 

See? Helpful. 

Even though there has never been a successful break-in to the prison in living history, no one here is deterred. Plus, Azula is perceptive enough to know that this is her chance to prove herself. She’s determined to help them pull this off, whatever the risk. 

The meeting wraps up, and she follows an excited Aang outside. She has promised him a firebending demonstration, and he just so happens to be an excellent student. A prodigy. 

She knows all too well how it is to be a prodigy, so she makes sure that all he does isn’t training. He deserves to do other stuff as well, even on their accelerated timeline. So she watches his airball games with poor Sokka (who always loses), and listens to his long winded, excited stories about everything in the world, from a butterfly that he saw to the types of rocks most suited for earthbending. Azula would have never found herself hanging out with the cheerful airbender, but Ty Lee had told her that her aura was brighter than ever after spending time with him, and the beaming smile on her face that sent a warm feeling spreading through Azula’s chest made everything more than worth it. 

But for now, she takes a deep breath, and launches into the most showy, flamboyant firebending routine she knows, something that she made up last week with Zuko for no reason other than the fact that it looks cool, and delights in the awe on Aang’s face. 

The break in to Boiling Rock goes perfectly. Afterwards, when they are all sitting, dazed, in the airship taking them back to Shu Jing, she finally heaves a sigh of relief. They had planned for every contingency, and yet they had slipped quietly in, and grabbed all of the Kyoshi Warriors, including Suki, their captain and also apparently Sokka’s girlfriend. Seeing their easy relationship makes her heart ache, and maybe also think of an acrobat with a long brown braid. 

But the work isn’t done yet. When they get back to the house, everyone collapses in bed, but Azula cannot sleep. There is only a month left to the comet. There is so much work that needs to be done, from figuring out how they are going to take the airships out of commission, to how they are going to get close enough to Father to defeat him. 

Father. Defeat him. Azula is not thinking clearly. He isn’t Father anymore, he’s Fire Lord Ozai. They aren’t going to defeat him (what a soft word), they are going to kill him. So that there is absolutely no way that he could ever come back to haunt them. 

She needs to get her head on straight. Normally, she would go and train, but everyone is jumpy after today, because it was too easy , and she doesn’t want people to hear firebending and assume the worst. 

Also, she wants to put the days of cutting back on sleep to train behind her. She makes her way to the kitchen, where she sees Ty Lee and Mai, nursing cups of tea. Evidently they are just as unsettled as she is after today’s action. 

“Hello, girls,” she says quietly, slipping into the chair across from them. She pours herself tea from the pot and heats it up in her hands. 

There is a long silence, until Mai leans back in her chair. “Azula, what’s our plan?”

“Sorry?” 

“What are we doing after the war? Assuming we win, what next?” 

“Well, of course, after we kill Father, we’ll crown Zuko as Fire Lord. Then we’ll get through torturous talks with the other nations, and restrain ourselves from killing anyone at those peace talks .” 

“And then we’ll help rebuild the Fire Nation,” Ty Lee says quietly. Azula summons the courage to say something that she has been wanting to say for weeks. 

“You girls don’t have to, of course,” Azula says, in a rush. They both look up at her. “After the war, I would no longer need to use your skills for my own purposes. You know, now that I’m not actively trying to kill or capture anyone. After. The war, that is.” She has never been so awkward, not even when she was spiralling and falling apart. Ty Lee looks worried. 

“Azula, are you suffering from blood loss?” she asks plaintively. 

“Possibly a concussion?” Mai drawls. 

She scowls at them both. “Oh, hush. All I’m saying is that, well, I am sorry. I haven’t apologized to you, and I haven’t treated you both as friends. And yet, you knew when I needed to leave and dropped everything to commit treason with me. So thank you.” This is the most sincere she has even been with them. They have always been lighthearted, because neither of them wanted to reveal their true emotions, for fear that she would use it against them, and she has never been an open book to  anyone. 

Ty Lee gets up and nearly knocks Azula over with the force of her hug. “Oh, Azula, you have no idea how proud I am of you for saying this!”

Mai rolls her eyes. “It’s about time you pulled your head out of your ass. You apologized to Zuko ages ago. But fine. I accept your apology.” 

“You know, I’m beginning to believe that for two introverted people, you and Zuko both tell each other way too much,” Azula grumbles, but wraps her arms around Ty Lee nonetheless. Mai sighs loudly, but the expression on her face is almost fond.  

Azula sleeps dreamlessly that night.

A few days later, she is sitting on the stone steps of the courtyard, soaking up the sun, when Toph stomps up to her. Truth be told, Azula has not interacted much with the earthbender. She has sparred with Katara, strategized with Sokka, and spent many amusing hours with Aang, but never with Toph. She sits down in front of Azula. 

“All right, Prissy, I’m going to ask you a question.” 

“How would you know if I’m lying or not?” 

“What do you have to gain from lying to me?” She has a point, so Azula stays silent. 

“What’s going to be your deal after the war? Will you support Sparky’s reign? Because I don’t wanna hear that you tried to kill him. I like Sparky. Plus, after the shit that the world’s gone through, the Fire Nation’s gonna need someone on the throne who’s, y’know, alive. And not homicidal.” 

“Are you accusing me of future fratricide?” 

“I don’t know, am I?” It would definitely be an action that many generals would support. Azula, the cruel, cunning princess as Fire Lord would, in their eyes, give them free reign to do whatever they wanted as long as they stood behind her. They would thrive under her rule as they now thrived under Ozai’s. But Azula wasn’t the ruler the Fire Nation needed. She was only going to be feared, and any peace talks would have no chance of succeeding. 

“I have no intention of supplanting my brother as Fire Lord. I don’t want the throne. Plus, he’s going to need someone to help him navigate the viper-rats at court, and I am his best chance at doing that.”

“Okay then.” Toph gives her a funny look. “You do know that Sparky actually wants you around, right? Not just because you’re useful, or whatever. He loves you, Prissy. Somehow.” And then she gets to her feet and earthbends herself to the opposite side of the courtyard, where Mai stands waiting with her shuriken. “Good to see you, Knives!” 

“Toph. You can’t see.” 

“I sure can see those sweet steel knives!” She cracks her knuckles. “Let’s get throwing!” 

Azula wanders away from them, idly listening to the shink of a knife hitting its target, and Toph’s loud cursing. She has never been loved , and she isn’t going to spout some huge sob story about it. Her mother thought that she was beyond saving, and her father saw her as a tool to be used. She’s made her peace with it. But the thought that Zuko might want to keep her around for no reason other than the fact that he loved her unsettles her. She shakes it off. She’s been having too many emotional epiphanies lately. 

The relationship that she has with the White Lotus is tenuous, at best. She has an understanding with Master Piandao, for he had been willing to shelter her, even before they knew she was on their side. She respects Jeong Jeong for having the courage to desert the navy and risk certain death from any Fire National. He is gruff with her, but then again, he is gruff with everyone. She thinks that she amuses King Bumi, which is better than him hating her, she supposes. She thinks Madame Wu’s fortune telling is nonsense, and tells her as much, but the woman had just inclined her head and said, You always see what your eyes want to see, Princess, so she has a feeling that the fortune teller knows that she is nothing more than a giver of advice. She has no interaction with Master Pakku, except for the fact that Katara snarls that he is a massive sexist, and so Azula thinks she might hate him, purely on principle. Still, they are all powerful allies with considerable sway, so, for the most part, she respects them. 

It is a week before the comet, and she still hasn’t talked to Uncle, when he invites her to have tea with him. She has no love for the man, but Zuko adores him, so she goes. He sits with a pot of- 

“Ginseng tea?” 

“I remembered it was your favorite, Princess Azula.”

“It is.” 

“Then let us share this fragrant pot of ginseng. Will you oblige me?” 

She is tempted to walk out just to be contrary, but she cannot deny that Iroh is an excellent tea brewer. She sits in front of the low tea table, on top of one of the cushions. He pours, and she sips. It is excellent, as she expected. She hears Mai’s voice in her head: If it all goes to shit, at least you got good tea out of it. 

“Azula, I invited you here because I must apologize to you. I have doubted you, and it was a dishonor to you. I truly am sorry for assuming the worst. But after the last few weeks, I can see that I was at fault.” 

He waits for her to graciously accept his apology. 

“Really, Uncle? Is that the best that you can do? After treating me like shit for months, you pour a cup of tea and say a few words and you think that’s it? I don’t care what you did for Zuko. You owe an apology to everyone in the Fire Nation for shirking your duty as Fire Lord. You should have dueled my father for the throne. You would have won, and we would have all been saved. Instead, we have languished for the last five years all because the only person in the world with the power to have saved us was too sad.” She is aware that she is being cruel, reducing his grief to mere sadness, but the truth of the matter was that the Fire Lord did not have such luxuries as debilitating grief. It was the price he paid for his divine power. 

Suddenly, Uncle Iroh looks very old, and she is forcibly reminded that he is fifteen years her father’s elder. “There are many regrets that I carry with me, Azula. One of them is that I failed to secure the monarchy when my father died. The other is that I left the two of you to my brother’s tender mercies. For this, too, I am sorry. You could not have been blamed for doing what you needed to in order to survive.” 

It isn’t enough, but she will get nowhere with this grudge with him. Like it or not, they both love Zuko, and it will kill him to see her at odds with Uncle. So, for him, she would make her peace. 

“It’s all right, Uncle. I just needed to hear you say it.” She gets to her feet. “Thank you for the tea.” 

“Of course, my niece.” He bows, and she returns it. “Thank you for hearing me out.” 

She has just one more conversation to have, and then she can kill her father with a clear mind, without risk of becoming that girl wearing jasmine who she thought she left behind in the city that she has to return to. 

She finds Zuko outside, lying on the ground underneath a tree with Mai, staring up at the stars and talking too quiet for her to hear. She says something, her expression deadpan, and he laughs, leans over and kisses her. Their hands are linked, and she is almost sorry to interrupt them. Almost. 

“Zuzu.” 

They half-sit up, and Mai sighs loudly. She gets up gracefully, sweeping past Azula. She glares at her as she walks past, and Azula hides a smile. 

Zuko falls back against the bundled cloth he has pressed against the trunk of the tree, and gestures for her to do the same. She arranges herself on the blanket next to him. 

“What is it, Azula?” 

“What do you want me to do after you’re Fire Lord?”

“What do you want to do?” 

“Me personally? I would like nothing better than to cow all of the snakes at court into submission. Possibly terrorize a few admirals.” 

He laughs. “Like Admiral Ichiro?” 

“Oh, him definitely. If he doesn’t run away screaming after the coronation.” 

“You can definitely stay at court and make everyone even more scared of you. Or you can do whatever else you want.” He turns to look at her. “I would like it if you stayed at court with me, though.”

“So that I can help you root out the thorns in your side.” 

“That. But mostly because I want to fix us, Azula. These last few weeks have been great, but you’re my sister, Azula. I love you, and I want a real relationship with you, not just one borne out of necessity.” And she should not be surprised, because she knew this, in the back of her head, but she hadn’t allowed herself to think that she could be anything anymore than the ruthless enforcer of yet another Fire Lord’s rule. 

But she knows that Zuko could never be the type of Fire Lord that her father is. Before, she thought that it was her wildest dream to be the greatest Fire Lord in history, but perhaps what her nation needs now isn't the greatest Fire Lord, but the one with the inherent goodness to restore their honor. 

“Okay. I’ll stay,” she says. He grins at her, wide and joyous, and the warm feeling returns. 

Sozin’s Comet returns tomorrow. 

The Southern Water Tribe fleet will join them, and Chief Hakoda has arrived from Chameleon Bay to finalize plans. When he comes to the door, Sokka and Katara throw themselves into his arms, and it leaves a bitter taste in Azula’s mouth. The chief hugs his children and holds them close, his hands cupping the back of their heads. She says nothing, however, and clasps his offered forearm when Sokka says, this is Azula, dad, she’s Zuko’s sister, you met him when we were leaving Ba Sing Se, yeah she captured it but it’s cool because she’s with us now, she helped break Suki out, and oh you should meet Suki she’s awesome, and sees nothing but mild curiosity in his eyes. No judgment. She lets out a breath she didn’t know she was holding, and feels Ty Lee’s hand brush her back. I’m right here. 

She flashes her a grateful smile, and squares her shoulders. They have a plan to finalize.

The White Lotus will liberate Ba Sing Se. 

Sokka, Toph, Mai, Ty Lee, the Kyoshi Warriors, and the warriors of the Southern Water Tribe will destroy the airship fleet before its soldiers burn down the Earth Kingdom with the power given to them by the Comet.  

Zuko, Azula, Katara, and Aang will face Fire Lord Ozai. 

If Aang cannot kill Ozai, it’s fine, because Azula will not hesitate to do so herself. 

As they speed towards Caldera City on the back of the sky bison, the sky is still dark, and Azula tries to calm down her breathing. She lets lightning spark at her fingertips, knowing that in a matter of hours, her fire will roar underneath her skin, begging to be let out. 

This will be the most important fight of her life. She cannot let him get under her skin, cannot let him manipulate her the way he’s been doing for her entire life, cannot let herself fail- 

“Can I meditate with you?” It’s Aang, standing at her side after passing the reins off to Katara. His eyes are big and wide, and she realizes that he must be as terrified as her, but for different reasons. She nods, and lets a small flame flare to life in her palms. He does the same, and on her other side, so does Zuko. She watches her flame flicker in time with her breath, and feels her fears melting away. 

They might not survive this fight. Or they might face a fate far worse than death. But Azula has never been more sure of herself in her life than now, breathing with her fire, the Avatar and the future Fire Lord on either side of her. 

Whatever comes next, she will face it, and she will prevail. 

Sozin’s Comet is here. 

The Comet is still low in the east but it stains the entire sky red already. She can feel its affect on her fire the second it rises above the horizon, and all three firebenders in the saddle stiffen. Katara looks back at them. 

“Is it time?” 

Aang nods solemnly, and Katara inhales sharply. All around the Fire Nation, firebenders will be awakening with the thrumming in their blood, and if she wasn’t flying towards the deadliest fight in her life, Azula might find it beautiful that there is a celestial event that makes all firebenders look up at the sky and embrace the power it gives them. 

Ty Lee would like the poetry of that, she thinks, and refuses to let herself worry about her. Ty Lee can take care of herself, and she has dependable people to help her do her task. Focus on your own job. She can do that. She can absolutely do that. 

They touch down in a side street, and it is empty, but Azula knows better. Father wouldn’t have gone with the invasion force, because he would be doing some flashy ceremony here. And sure enough, she hears the gongs. 

Aang tells the bison to stay out of sight, and they sneak through the streets until they have a vantage point of the proceedings. From what she can tell, Father is dropping the mantle of Fire Lord and naming himself the Phoenix King of the world. It is awfully tacky, and the Sages seem respectfully horrified at the rejection of the divine title of Fire Lord. 

It is just one of many mistakes that Father has made. 

Over the last few months, and especially after the eclipse, the White Lotus had began running what could only be described as a covert smear campaign. It was one of the main reasons that they kept her around in the beginning: she could air all of Father’s dirty linen, as well as of the court that supported him. Her father might have consolidated his rule through fear, but people still talked. Zuko had allowed them to post the exact details of his banishment, and even Toph had been shaken by it. (She had punched him particularly hard, and told him, voice wobbly, that he was one of the bravest people she knew. With this, she and Azula were of the same mind.) 

Through casual visits to taverns in large groups and loudly talking about how cowardly the Fire Lord was and posters that were put up in the dead of night, slowly, they began providing people a platform over which they could form their own opinion. This way, more people will support the reign of the banished Prince than that of the cruel Lord. 

Now, on her count, the four of them step out into the open. 

“Hello, Father. Missed me?” she calls out. He turns, and his eyes widen in fury. 

“Excellent. My traitor son and coward daughter. What a touching family reunion. I’ll just kill you both where you stand.” He dismisses everyone, and they all go scuttling away, except the Sages, who cower behind a building and watch. Let them watch, Azula thinks. 

Azula doesn’t wait for her father to say anything else. She punches out fire at him, and the fight is on. All four of them fight him, and under the hellish red light of the Comet, it is almost beautiful. Katara is vicious and precise with her water, corralling Father right into Azula’s direct view, and he screams bloody murder when she finally burns him with a carefully timed punch to his leg. But it’s not enough, and he kicks out fire at her. Between trying to kill them all, he screams about how much of a failure she is, and how he has been cursed with two worthless children who both betrayed their country, and Azula is trying not to waste breath talking back to him but he’s making it so hard- 

“You run away to an order of old men and they send me children? The mighty Avatar hasn’t even landed a hit on me so far!” Which is a bit unfair, seeing as Aang has been skirting the fight as backup. 

“Your precious airbenders? They deserved to be wiped out from existence if they were all as cowardly as you. Weak, weak, all of you are too fucking weak for this world!” And he concentrates his attacks on Aang alone, who is quickly forced onto the defensive. 

This, along with his crude words, is a mistake. Just when Ozai gets close enough to nearly land a direct hit, Aang enters the Avatar state, and Azula realizes just why the Fire Nation has hunted him for a hundred years. The Avatar State is terrifying, especially for Aang, who seems to have mastered it. He slams Ozai to the ground with extended arms of water, and traps him to the stone courtyard with solid earth. 

“ Fire Lord Ozai, you and your forefathers have devastated the balance of this world, and now you shall pay the ultimate price!” Aang intones, with the voice of a thousand Avatars before him. His hands light with flames, and he brings them to Ozai’s face. And then he stops. His eyes turn normal gray again, and the flames die out in his hands. 

“No, I'm not gonna end it like this.” She sees her father’s eyes widen in triumph.

“Even with all the power in the world, you are still weak!” Ozai screams. But before her father can try anything, Aang looks up at Azula, meeting her eyes, and she understands. If Aang kills Ozai, even though he’s his mortal enemy, he would be giving up the most fundamental tenet of the Air Nomads, and when he does that, the airbenders would truly be gone. Every airbender lives on in Aang, because before he is the Avatar, he is, still, the last airbender. And in this city of blood and pain, where no one but the cruel thrive, there is no way that Aang will use his power to kill a man, no matter how despicable that man is. 

Azula inclines her head to Aang. She will not ruin his spirit and force him to do what he cannot. She looks to her right, where Zuko stands. He nods, and here is nothing but fierce determination in his eyes as he gathers the energies around himself. She copies him, and they shoot at the same time. Twin blue and gold bolts crackle through the air, and Fire Lord Ozai falls to the ground, his eyes sightless and unseeing. 

How fitting, that he dies from the skill that he had forced her to learn under pain of death. 

Their battle is over. Katara heals their burns, and her water is so cool and soothing in the superheated air that Azula could kiss her. They collapse to the ground, catching their breath. Aang looks exhausted, and he leans against the stone steps next to her, his bald head tilted back. Zuko sways on his feet until Katara hisses at him to sit, and Azula pulls her down, too. 

Only because they need their resident healer to stay in commission, of course. Not because Azula has come to regard the waterbender and wants to make sure that she’s not going to pass out. 

They’ve won their part of the battle. Hopefully, the others will take Ba Sing Se and take out the warships, but there is nothing to gain from worrying about them. Soon, Azula and Zuko will need to find the Fire Sages from wherever they’re cowering and show them Ozai’s corpse. They will need to order the end of the war, and send generals in the field missives to come back home immediately. They will need to ready the palace and the city for a coronation. They will need to do a hundred more things, but for now? 

For now, they can catch their breath on the stone steps of the palace, watching a fiery comet blaze its way across the sky. 

The Fire Sages come out of hiding. 

As they shuffle out of their hiding spot, Katara laughs hysterically. 

“What is it?” Azula asks, alarmed. 

“They’re Fire Sages! Probably studied firebending their entire lives! And they ran away to let a bunch of kids fight the Fire Lord. How fucking stupid is that?” It’s the first time all of them have heard Katara curse, and for some reason, it is the funniest thing in the world to them, so by the time the Fire Sages are done gingerly prodding Ozai with their toes, the four of them are laughing so hard that Azula’s sides hurt. They hastily shut up when the Sages come towards them, and stand, smoothing out their rumpled, singed clothes. 

“Prince Zuko. At the death of your father, the mantle of Fire Lord falls to you. Do you accept?”

“I do.”

“We will crown you in one week’s time, at midday. However, you will need a Prince’s crown in the interim. We will send for a goldsmith to craft one.”

“No need for that,” Zuko says, pulling out a small golden headpiece from his pocket. It is the strange, leaf shaped ornament that she first saw when he came to her cave, all those weeks ago. He has worn it nearly every day after that, but she never thought to ask him where he got it. The High Sage inhales sharply as Zuko pulls his hair up into a topknot and secures it with the headpiece. 

“Your Highness, that is-”

“Avatar Roku’s crown, I know. Once worn by the Crown Prince of the Fire Nation.”

“Given from Sozin to Roku,” Aang murmurs, and that is where Azula has seen it before. She has seen pictures of the previous Avatar, and he wore this crown nearly his entire life. For now, the Sages mutter some blessing and shuffle away, presumably to scream into their pillows. 

Just then, there is a roaring behind them, and they turn to see an airship touch down. Azula’s heart leaps into her throat, and the door opens to show Sokka, leaning on Suki. 

“We did it, losers!” He limps down, followed by Toph, and- 

“Azula!” Ty Lee throws herself into her arms, squeezing her tightly, and Azula returns the hug fiercely, feeling a lump in her throat. “I’m so glad you’re okay!” 

“You’re all right. You’re actually all right,” Azula whispers into Ty Lee’s neck, and Ty Lee pretends not to notice as Azula breathes in shakily. Around them, other reunions are happening, as Katara flies into her father’s arms, and then hugs Sokka, and Zuko pulls Mai close and Aang launches into Sokka’s arms, nearly toppling him over. Another airship arrives, this time with the White Lotus, and she sees Iroh sag in relief at the sight of all of them, safe and sound. 

They have won, and it is all over. 

It has been a week since Sozin’s Comet burned its way through the sky. 

During that time, so many things have happened that Azula’s head spun from it all. Zuko took the court by storm, getting rid of nobles and officials that Azula knew were going to be troublesome and warned him about. He recalled all the troops from the front lines. When anyone tried to protest their sacking, Azula just smiled at them, fingers sparking, and they left, tail between their legs. He also released the earthbenders and waterbenders from where they had been imprisoned, as well as the other wrongfully imprisoned people at Boiling Rock and the Capital prison. 

Now, Azula waits in the front row of the crowd at the coronation, standing in between Mai and Ty Lee. The two of them are going to be staying at court, a fact that had delighted Azula when they told her. Already, they’ve been a huge help in terrifying many irritating nobles. 

The gong sounds, and Zuko walks out of the antechamber to kneel in front of the crowd. The High Sage puts the five-pronged crown in his hair, and he rises to the resounding cheer of All Hail Fire Lord Zuko. At her side, Ty Lee squeezes her hand, and Azula squeezes back. The golden crown catches in the sun, and Azula makes eye contact with Zuko. He smiles widely at her, and she returns it, feeling lighter than she has before. The future is bright, and she has her entire life in front of her, with the three people that she loves most in the world. 

All is well.