Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"Azula, when's Mom coming back?" Zuko calls to his sister as she walks past the turtleduck pond where he is currently sitting.

"Why do you think I would I know?" Azula snaps.

"Because you know everything!" Zuko shoots back, only half sarcastic. "Do you know where she is?"

"No, but if I had to guess? Somewhere she'll never be seen again," she says nastily. Zuko opens his mouth to retort then snaps it shut again, staring pointedly at a patch of grass the way he always does when he’s trying not to get visibly upset.

The familiar sadistic pleasure flares up inside Azula at the sight of her annoying brother's distress, but it is quickly smothered by... guilt?

Azula sighs, walking over to sit down next to Zuko in the lush grass by the pond. "I wasn't just saying that to be cruel, Zuzu. I don't think Mom's coming back," she says quietly, not meeting his gaze.

"What do you mean?" She ignores the way his voice wavers. It is hardly befitting of the Crown Prince, but no one is around to see or hear Zuko's weakness, and for once she doesn't feel like rubbing salt in his wounds.

"Isn't it obvious? She made some kind of deal with Dad, to spare your life." In her periphery, Azula sees Zuko's eyes widen and his throat move as he gulps.

"What kind of deal?" Zuko's voice is shaking even more now and he's turned to face her fully, but Azula keeps her own gaze trained on the gently rippling waters of the pond.

"I don't know for sure, but I can speculate. All of this started because Dad wanted the throne… I think Mom found a different way to give him what he wanted; she traded your life for Grandfather's."

"But Grandfather just passed away in his sleep! Mom didn't -"

"Zuzu, if you really believe that it's just a coincidence, then you're even dumber than you look." Zuko scowls at her for a moment, then frowns as another thought occurs to him.

"But if Dad was in on the plan, then why did Mom have to leave?"

"Seriously, Zuzu? I would have thought that was obvious," Azula says.

"...Because she committed high treason? But Dad's the Fire Lord now, why wouldn't he just pardon her?"

"Because, Dum-Dum, Dad is smart enough to know that if she can get rid of Grandfather, she could also off him. Keeping her around would be less suspicious, yes, but it's also a serious risk. Honestly, Zuzu, do I have to spell everything out for you?"

"But why would Mom want to hurt Dad?"

"Because she hates him," Azula deadpans.

"But - but they're our parents!" Zuko protests.

"Zuzu, I know you know what an arranged marriage is. They put up with each other because they have to, not because they're in love. Have you really never noticed that?" Zuko's frown is all the answer she needs. "Ugh, you're even dumber than I thought you were. And trust me, the bar was already really low."

"Yeah, yeah, you're so much smarter and better than me and everybody else, I get it! Now shut up!" Zuko snaps, turning away abruptly. Azula can still tell that he's crying. She's not entirely sure why - she's certainly said much worse things to him and gotten much less of a reaction.

It takes her an almost embarrassingly long time to realise that it must be because he's already an emotional wreck after the last few days. Once again, she feels that suffocating sense of guilt and regret. Ugh, when did she grow a conscience? It's terribly inconvenient.

Azula exhales with a long-suffering sigh and grabs Zuko's upper arm, intending to turn him around so she can apologise without actually admitting that she feels bad, since he'd never let her live that down. Instead, Zuko flinches and winces, jerking his arm away even though she knows her grip was nowhere near hard enough to hurt.

She raises her eyebrows expectantly as she looks at Zuko. He doesn't offer any verbal explanation, just pushes his sleeve up to expose a few small but vivid bruises – bruises from large fingers digging into his arm, she realises.

A sudden, fierce surge of protectiveness makes her inner flame flare white-hot. She doesn't need to ask who did it. She already knows. The coolly logical part of her thinks that he probably deserved it – Zuko always means well, but he's also a stubborn, hot-headed, impulsive idiot.

The rest of her is shrieking he's my brother, mine, and no one is allowed to hurt him except me; a starving, rabid beast howling for blood spilled. The intensity of her feelings frightens Azula, but she instantly shoves any signs of how rattled she is back behind her long-perfected mask.

She is the perfect daughter. The perfect Princess. To question their father is heresy. To defy him is treason. She shouldn't care. She certainly shouldn't want vengeance.

Zuko is the competition – the line of succession favours him, but they and everyone else know that she's better in every way. She should be trying to exploit their father's obvious dislike of Zuko.

Instead, all she can see is Zuko flinching away from her touch, replaying his pain and fear over and over in her mind's eye, no matter how much she wishes she could forget it.

Why didn't Mom just take him with her? Azula thinks bitterly, he would have been safe. She knows why, of course, and she knows that he wouldn't have been.

She glances over at Zuko again – he's pulled his sleeve down again, and he's just sitting in the grass, looking at the turtleducks paddling around the pond without really seeing them. He's older than her by two years, but he looks so small and vulnerable.

Azula knows what she must do. If he won't be safe anywhere else, then I will make sure he's safe here. Her inner fire, always blazing strongly, becomes a raging inferno as her resolve gives her a new drive.

The next time she firebends, her flames come out bright blue.

Chapter Text

Cousin Lu Ten used to say that court is like a battlefield with none of the camaraderie. Azula thinks that is an apt description; no one can be trusted, and every weakness is exploited.

Azula’s cleverness and natural talent for manipulating people mean she takes to the unforgiving world of court politics like a turtleduck to water. Zuko? Not so much.

He is much too soft to be any good at it: kind and sincere when he should be cunning and ruthless. It is a weakness, but Azula can no longer deny that she likes her brother's sweet nature.

As annoying as it is to have to watch out for him constantly, lest he commit political suicide while her back is turned, Zuko is a much-needed breath of fresh air. Just because Azula has a knack for figuring out what people are really saying doesn’t mean she can't appreciate Zuko's tendency to say exactly what he thinks.

Still, she always knew it would get him in trouble one day. She was prepared to intervene and quietly fix Zuko's messes before he ever felt any repercussions. Before their father found out. But she never could have predicted that his mistake would be quite so catastrophic.

Now her idiot brother was going to have to fight an Agni Kai against a renowned General. They have less than fifteen minutes left before the start of the duel, so Azula is trying to prepare him as best she can.

She's been helping him learn firebending for the last few years (she's well aware that even she can't always be there to protect him from everything, so she endeavoured to make sure he could protect himself) and he's made a lot of progress but he's still nowhere near a master. He'll need every advantage he can get.

“Now remember, General Bujing is a better bender than you are, but he's also old and slow. Stay light on your feet and keep moving. I did a little research and apparently he suffered an injury to his left arm that never fully healed, so he'll favour his right side. Use that against him as much as you- will you stop fiddling and listen to me?”

Zuko meets her gaze sheepishly. “Sorry, Az. I am paying attention, I swear!”

“You're nervous, aren't you?” Zuko nods meekly. “Well, don't be. ‘The most important part of preparing for battle is visualising your victory. Once you have won the battle in your mind, the real battle is already halfway won.’” Azula recites.

Zuko is still fidgeting anxiously with the hem of his ceremonial robe. She sighs. “You're going to be fine, Zuzu. Just try not to get too cocky once you hear me cheering for you,” she jokes, earning a small chuckle.

A large gong sounds: preparation time is officially over. Zuko's breath catches in his throat, and Azula hugs him without thinking too much about it.

“What are you doing?” Zuko asks, neither of them used to physical affection.

“Giving you some of my good luck,” she replies, flashing a smile up at him. “Now get out there and kick that stinky old man's butt!”

Zuko grins at her as she pulls away, but her heart is still beating too quickly as she makes her way to her spot in the stands and he enters the arena.

Zuko kneels on the ground, facing away from the centre of the arena, and waits for the second gong to sound. Azula's gaze darts to the other side of the arena, and her stomach drops into her boots.

The other combatant is missing. Something is horribly wrong. Never in her life has Azula wanted to pull Zuko out of a situation more, but the rules of Agni Kai were sacred; no matter what happened, she could not intervene.

The second gong sounds, and just as Zuko stands and turns around, the other combatant enters the arena. Azula's carefully crafted court smile freezes on her face, but she doesn't let it fall. Even though she feels like she just got thrown overboard into the frigid seas near the North Pole.

Zuko is going to have to duel their father. He doesn't stand a chance, she thinks, feeling ill from the sense of mounting horror as their father slowly prowls towards her brother's trembling form.

He'll never win, but maybe if he puts up a fight, proves his worth, maybe then Father will at least let him live.

Zuko drops to his knees.

No, no no no no no –

Zuko kneels and begs for forgiveness without producing a single spark.

No, what are you doing, you idiot?! He's going to kill you!

“You will learn respect, and suffering will be your teacher,” Ozai growls, raising his hand to Zuko's tear-streaked face. A fraction of a second before it makes contact, his hand bursts into flames.

Zuko's bloodcurdling scream rings in her ears, and suddenly Azula couldn't care less about the rules. As fast as the lightning she's starting to learn to wield, she stands from her seat and fires a bolt of flames directly at their father's chest.

Her blue flames were already exceptionally hot, but now they come out so scorchingly intense that the metal railing in front of her glows red-hot and partially melts just from a moment of close contact with her fire.

Ozai roars in pain as Azula's fire connects with his bare chest, immediately burning deep. He lets go of Zuko, and her brother hits the ground with a dull thud and doesn't move again.

Chapter Text

Azula may be a formidably powerful firebender, especially for her age, but her mind has always been her greatest weapon. She's just as surprised as everyone else when she vaults over the railing separating the spectators from the arena and puts herself between her father and brother without even the vaguest semblance of a plan.

Fortunately, years of Zuko-damage control have made her good at thinking on her feet.

“You attacked an opponent who forfeited,” Azula says, letting her voice ring clearly throughout the arena, “the Firelord is supposed to be the most honourable of us all, yet you fight with all the honour of a drunken thug in a bar brawl!”

Ozai's eyes narrow menacingly as her voice rises to a snarl. She lets it quiet to a venomous hiss as she says her next words; the arena is silent as a grave, everyone will hear.

“But then again, I'm not sure what else I should have expected from a usurper who murdered his own father to cheat his way onto the throne.”

Ozai chuckles darkly. “My son is a pathetic coward, and my daughter is a traitor... I should have you beheaded, you little brat!”

“I'm not hearing any denials, Father,” Azula says conversationally, “could that be because you know I'm telling the truth?”

Ozai snarls and launches a large burst of flames at Azula, but she easily dissipates them. With her senses on high alert, she notices Uncle Iroh trying to discreetly make his way into the arena to get to Zuko.

Her father doesn't seem to have noticed yet, but she isn't taking any chances. She erects a wall of fire behind her, to shield them from any attacks she can't block in time.

Azula keeps talking, keeps baiting her father. She already knows she'll never make it out of this arena alive; she doomed herself the moment she intervened. She doesn't care. She just needs to keep Father distracted long enough for Uncle to get Zuko to safety.

“Shall I tell everyone how you did it, Father? I think they deserve to know, if they don't already. You weren't half as subtle as you thought,” Azula continues, still in that same nonchalant tone.

“Silence yourself, Azula! Enough with these treasonous lies!” Ozai thunders, but Azula stands her ground. She's in way too deep to back down now.

“While Uncle was away, grieving the tragic death of his only child, you tried to convince Firelord Azulon to make you the Crown Prince, since Uncle no longer had any heirs and you still had two. That plan backfired rather spectacularly-” Azula pauses to dodge another fireball thrown her way “-when Grandfather said that for your selfishness, you must also know the pain of losing a child-” she dodges one fireball and blocks another “-and ordered you to kill Zuko.”

The silence in the arena is deafening. Even the birds and insects are completely silent, as if they've consciously decided to stay out of this.

“You were going to do it, but Mother made a deal with you: in exchange for sparing Zuko's life, she'd help you get rid of Firelord Azulon so you could have the throne. Afterwards, you banished her so she wouldn't have an opportunity to get rid of you too.”

Azula finishes her little speech to stunned silence and lets herself revel in her victory. She knows her theory about what happened that night makes perfect sense and judging from the apoplectic fury plainly visible in every aspect of her father's body language, she was correct.

Ozai kicks out a powerful stream of fire and adds to it with twin blasts from his hands. All three coalesce into a massive fireball that Azula barely dodges in time. Realising that Zuko and Uncle have both disappeared, she lets her wall of fire fall and fights back.

Her father is the most powerful firebender in the world and is in his prime, but Azula has the advantage of being small and agile. She takes her own advice and keeps moving, trying to be unpredictable and not let Ozai get any hits in. She knows he could take her down in one, so she just won't give him the opportunity.

Azula whirls into a spinning kick, flinging an arc of searing blue flame at her father. Ozai blocks it, but she sees him wince minutely, sees the reddened skin on his hands. Firebenders don't burn easily and the more powerful the bender, the better their burn resistance, but that did something.

Her flames that superheated steel on contact gave her father a burn comparable to a mild sunburn.

...she was fucking doomed.

It doesn't matter, she tells herself firmly, you always knew you couldn't win. All you have to do is buy time for Uncle to get Zuko out of here. So long as Zuko is safe, nothing else matters.

Azula dives out of the way of another blast, rolls through the landing, and comes up rapid-fire blasting flames from both hands, putting Ozai on the defensive. He blocks all of her strikes, but the burns on his hands are an angrier red now and extend down to his wrists.

She flips onto her hands and spins her legs, sending whirling flames towards him. He blocks most of her fire and retaliates by putting his steepled hands to the ground and sending a stream of fire directly towards her.

Azula pushes off her hands – mentally thanking Ty Lee for her insistence on doing gymnastics with her every time they played together – and manages to narrowly avoid the attack. She swiftly orientates herself in mid-air and sends a large blast arcing down from her foot, building power until it explodes right in front of her father.

He is slightly slow to react – clearly not expecting her to be able to hit back after his attack – and doesn't manage to block most of her fire this time. Azula grins in triumph as she takes in the second-degree burns covering most of his chest and arms.

Maybe I do stand a chance after all!

Ozai straightens up, eyes narrowing in concentration as his arms do a quick half spin backwards and come up to point directly at her. Azula's eyes widen as she feels her hair crackle with electricity a fraction of a second before she sees the first sparks leaving her father's fingers.

Scratch that, I'm as good as dead.

She lunges to the side, trying to get away, but she knows there's no chance. No one can move faster than lightning.

At least I'll have died fighting, she thinks distantly, but the agony and darkness never comes. Azula hits the ground hard to the sound of electricity crackling, but none of it hits her. She looks up in disbelief, and sees- no, that's impossible! How is he doing that?!

In front of her, Uncle Iroh is bracing himself against the force of Ozai's lightning. She can see his muscles spasming, but he stands firm and catches the lightning with one hand, then redirects it out the other hand, back towards Ozai. It hits the ground at his feet and the resulting explosion blows her father backwards, out of the Agni Kai arena.

She doesn't wait to see if he gets up again, just grabs her uncle's hand and runs. She's bruised and exhausted, her muscles screeching in protest from the continued exertion, but she doesn't stop running. After a few moments, Iroh takes the lead, pulling her through the long hallways of the palace, then out of the palace grounds entirely and down towards the docks.

Azula isn't entirely sure what happens next. She remembers flashes – running, the salty smell of the sea, Uncle shouting something, her footsteps banging on metal, sailors clamouring – then nothing.

Chapter Text

The next thing Azula knows, she's waking up in a small, uncomfortable bed in a sparsely decorated metal room that seems to be shifting. She glances out the strange, circular window and sees nothing but deep, dark blue as far as the eye can see.

I’m on a ship, then. But to where? And why? It takes her a second to remember, but once she does, she goes numb with horror. The Agni Kai.

Azula tries to sit up and has to bite her tongue to keep from screaming. Adrenaline had allowed her to push her body far beyond its normal limits, but now she is paying the price.

Taking as deep a breath as she can manage, she catalogues her injuries. Minor burns on the back of her right leg from where she was a little slow to dodge, her left wrist is aching and swollen from that awkward handstand-jump, and the entire right side of her upper body is one big mess of bruises and muscle knots from hitting the ground so badly after her desperate attempt to dodge lightning.

All in all, not too bad for a near-death experience.

Suddenly, she remembers Zuko. Remembers how he collapsed and didn't get up again, and she feels sick for not thinking of him immediately. Is he even still alive?

Taking another deep breath, Azula steels herself and slowly, carefully sits up, swings her legs out of the bed, and stands. She has no idea where Zuko is, or even where she is. It doesn't matter. There's a finite amount of space on a ship; she'll find him sooner or later.

She's barely taken two steps outside of her room before she spots Uncle. He immediately rushes over to her and envelopes her in a gentle hug. She stiffens but doesn't pull away. She'll let him have it, just this once.

“Niece! I am so relieved you are alright! I was just coming to see you-”

“Where is he?” Azula interrupts, holding up a hand to stop her uncle's babbling. Something in Iroh's expression falters, but he quickly recovers.

“In the infirmary. Come, I will take you to him.” Azula nods and follows her uncle, memorising the route as they go.

“How is he?” She asks, almost afraid of what his answer will be. Still, he'd said Zuko was in the infirmary, not the morgue, so her worst fears couldn't be true.

Iroh hesitates before answering – never a good sign. “You saved his life, Princess Azula. What you did was the bravest thing I have ever seen, and I am very proud of you.”

Azula bites back the scathing retort she wants to say – then why didn't you save him?! I'm eleven years old, it should have been you! – and forces her expression to remain neutral. “You didn't answer my question.”

Iroh sighs and stops walking, turning around to face Azula fully. “Zuko is in a bad way. He is still unconscious, he has a fever that won't go down, and the doctor is doing everything she can, but she fears that if the burn gets infected, he may have to lose the eye entirely. And that's just the physical effects... I can only imagine how he will react when he wakes, and how this will affect him in the long-term.”

At least he's not dead, Azula thinks near-hysterically, but once again forces herself to maintain her mask of calm neutrality. She looks her uncle right in the eyes as she says, “thank you for being honest with me.”

He nods solemnly and together, they walk the rest of the way to the ship's infirmary. Iroh holds the heavy door open for her, and even though she knows roughly what to expect, she still stops dead when she sees her brother.

Much of his hair had to be shaved off so it wouldn't get in the burn, and almost the entire left side of his face is covered in bandages. He is pale and sweaty, and what little she can make out of his expression through the thick gauze is pinched in pain. She's never seen him look so frail.

The bloodthirsty beast that usually lurks inside her and makes itself known whenever Zuko is threatened is strangely subdued. When she'd leapt into the Agni Kai arena, it had been howling and raging, throwing itself against the bars of its cage.

Now it just whines sadly and lies down, buries its face in its paws like it wishes it could un-see this. Azula had been expecting a firestorm of violent emotions, but she just feels lost.

She supposes it does make sense. She already did everything she could to protect him, was willingly going to sacrifice herself to give him a fighting chance at escape and survival. This is something she can't protect him from.

Slowly, as if she's in a trance, Azula walks over to Zuko's bedside and gently cups his unblemished cheek in her hand. His skin is clammy, but the furrows in his brow smooth out a little at her touch. Her fingers trail down his jaw, trace the fluttering pulse in his neck, and come to rest over his heart.

Distantly, she hears someone say something to Iroh, and then both he and the other person quietly leave the room. Azula climbs into the small cot with Zuko and carefully curls into his good side, laying her head on his chest.

His fast yet steady heartbeat is more reassuring than any hollow, well-intentioned words.

***

Azula doesn't remember falling asleep (and the sudden abundance of gaps in her usually flawless memory would concern her, if she had any concern left to spare for things other than Zuko) but she wakes abruptly as she feels Zuko stirring underneath her.

“’Zula?” He slurs, his good eye blinking blearily up at her.

“Hey Dum-Dum,” she whispers back, for once leaving her mask off so he can easily hear the playfulness in her voice, see her bright smile.

Zuko flashes her a tired grin in return, but his brow furrows again as he looks around. “Where are we?”

Azula hesitates, not sure how much she should tell him. He's already been through a terrible ordeal and she doesn't want to upset him further, but it's not like she could hide the truth from him for long.

“On a ship. I don't know where to, exactly, but Uncle is here too and I'm sure he has a plan.” There, that's perfectly honest but still leaves out all the really distressing parts. Like how we're almost certainly wanted for high treason and will never be able to go home.

Zuko just frowns more. “Azula, what happened?”

She sighs and breaks eye contact. “You had to fight an Agni Kai against our father. You tried to forfeit, and he burned you to teach you a lesson. You passed out, and I jumped in to keep him away from you while Uncle got you out of there.”

Azula pauses to collect her thoughts; her own memories of the event are frustratingly hazy. Zuko takes the opportunity to butt in.

“Wait, you fought Dad? And you won?!”

“Not exactly,” Azula admits, smiling ruefully. “I did fight him, and I held him off for a while, but then he bent lightning at me...”

Zuko's eye is wide with wonder, and Azula can't help the warm glow of pride she feels at his open admiration of her skill. It helps to chase away the lingering echoes of terror she still feels at the memory.

“That's when Uncle came back and stopped him, at least for a little while.” She exhales shakily. “He redirected Father's lightning. I have no idea how he did it – I never even knew it was possible! Judging by the look on his face, I don't think Father knew either,” she tries to joke, but it falls flat.

Zuko has grabbed her hand and is holding onto it as tightly as he can without hurting her. Seeing her own fears reflected plainly on her brother's face, Azula finally finds the courage to confess what she hadn't even been able to admit to herself.

“I thought I was going to die,” she whispers, “I told myself I was okay with it, that as long as my sacrifice bought you and Uncle enough time to get away safely it was fine, but I've never been so scared in my life!”

Azula’s composure shatters as the emotional numbness finally abates, letting her experience all the horrors of the past day with awful clarity. Zuko immediately pulls her back down to lie against his chest and wraps his arms around her in the closest thing to a hug they can manage in their condition.

“I never want to feel like that again!” She sobs into his shoulder, and feels his arms tighten around her protectively even as he shakes beneath her, crying too.

That's how Iroh finds them a few minutes later: clinging to each other as they mourn the loss of everything they've ever known.

Chapter Text

After the ship’s doctor shooed Azula out of the infirmary so she could change Zuko’s bandages, she came up to the deck for some fresh air. The ship they’re on is rather crappy – it’s small, outdated and in some places held together by nothing but rust, barnacles, and spite – but she still thinks it’s quite remarkable that Uncle managed to procure/charter it in under ten minutes.

How did he even get to the docks and back so quickly? For a fat, lazy old man, he sure can move fast when he wants to.

Azula is still furious with him. The infamous Dragon of the West was too afraid to even try to defend his beloved nephew; instead, he let an eleven-year-old girl nearly get herself killed singlehandedly taking on the most powerful and dangerous man in the world. She isn’t even close to ready to forgive and forget, especially when his reckless decision to let Zuko into the War Room was what got them all into this mess in the first place.

Sighing, Azula tucks a few loose strands of hair back behind her ear. She will be civil to Iroh, but only because he is one of the only allies she has left. Regardless of her personal feelings towards the man, he isn’t someone she wants to make an enemy of.

To his credit, Iroh seems to be extending her the same courtesy: the two of them were never close, but he is clearly making an effort to listen to her and be considerate. She had noticed him when he re-entered the infirmary, but upon seeing the miserable state she and Zuko were in, he had quietly ducked back out again and let them be.

She appreciates that he’s trying, at least.

“Ah, Princess Azula! I was wondering where you had disappeared to.” Azula’s eye twitches, but she plasters on a polite smile as her uncle approaches.

“Is Zuko looking for me?” She asks, brushing her hair out of her face again. Stupid sea breeze.

“No, he is resting again. I was hoping I could talk to you.”

Azula lets her mask fall for a moment and replies coldly, “I have nothing to say to you.”

Iroh sighs deeply and comes to stand by the railing next to Azula. “I know that you are angry with me, and you have every right to be, but will you at least listen to what I have to say?” She nods, still gazing out at the ocean.

“All your life, you have never needed anyone. You are fierce, determined, intelligent and brave, not to mention an excellent bender. You embody Fire Nation ideals, and you also embody the wisdom an old friend once shared with me: he said, ‘the strength to stand alone is the strength to make a stand.’ You recognise that just because you don’t need anyone else doesn’t mean they don’t need you, and yesterday you proved that you are willing to fight to defend those who cannot defend themselves.”

Azula resists the urge to roll her eyes. Where is Uncle going with this?

“Our world is out of balance, and our family is the cause. I would urge you to find a cause you believe in, and fight for it. The citizens of the other nations fear fire. Your blue flames are a gift that has not been seen for generations. It is my hope that you will use them to show the rest of the world that fire can also be a force for good,” Uncle finishes, and bows to her. “That is all. Goodnight, Princess Azula.”

Azula raises one eyebrow as her uncle leaves and wishes she could dismiss his words as the ramblings of a crazy old man. She can’t. She vividly remembers that her flames only turned blue after she vowed to use them to protect Zuko.

When she’d shown her new, unique fire to Ty Lee, she had said that Azula’s fire was ‘as beautiful as it is dangerous.’ Azula hadn’t fully realised at the time that the colour upgrade also came with a massive power boost, but now she thinks there’s something poetic about the hottest and most dangerous fire of all only belonging to someone who swore to use it to defend instead of destroy.

Chapter Text

Zuko had been coping remarkably well with their new situation, at least as far as Azula knew. All that changed when his bandages came off.

When he saw his face for the first time since the Agni Kai, when he realised that he was partially blind as well as half-deaf, Zuko had lashed out. He’d screamed and broken every mirror he saw heedless of the glass shards tearing into his knuckles, then staggered out of the infirmary and locked himself in his room for the rest of the day. Azula had expected that.

What she hadn’t expected was that when he finally left his room the next evening, she would hardly recognise him as her big brother. The sweet, gentle boy she loved so much was gone. The Zuko who stood before her now was every bit as hard and cold as Azula herself, and she hated it.

She hated that even after everything they’d endured, their father had gotten the last laugh after all. After so many years of abuse, he’d finally broken Zuko’s spirit.

***

Azula is struggling to find her feet in this new relationship dynamic with Zuko. Up until now, her brother had been the one piece of home that she still had. Now even that has been taken from her, and she is finding it hard to cope.

Instead of opening up to anyone, she does what she has always done and throws herself into her firebending training, this time with a new urgency. Zuko isn’t the only one having nightmares about that fateful Agni Kai; Azula wakes up gasping and covered in sweat every other night, unable to shake the feelings of terror and helplessness.

Through all the anguish and uncertainty, one goal remains clear in her mind: she will become the most powerful firebender the world has ever seen so she never has to feel fear like that again. Every time she wakes from another nightmare, she gets up and trains until the sun comes up, then washes her face, fixes her hair, puts on her makeup, and dons her mask.

No one has to know, she tells herself. Zuko is the one who is suffering: he’s the one who is permanently disfigured and so afraid of fire he can’t even bend. There’s no point in making anyone worry about me when I’m perfectly fine.

Despite Azula already earning her mastery of her element earlier that year, Iroh insists on teaching her. She hates that they’re starting from the very basics – techniques she’d mastered when she was barely more than a toddler - and working their way back up, but she bites her tongue and lets Uncle teach her how he wants.

She can’t risk alienating him, not before she’s learned his lightning-redirection technique. Besides, as much as she’s loathe to admit it, the old man clearly knows what he’s talking about. Azula’s forms are already flawless, but some of his tips are interesting and effective enough that she decides to put them to use.

Finally, after two weeks of drilling forms she can do in her sleep, Uncle decides they can move onto the advanced forms she’d only recently mastered. Azula executes every single one perfectly, like always. Iroh still spends the whole day going over those forms with her, but he promises that they will move on to bending lightning the next day. Azula is thrilled – at long last, her goal is within sight!

The day starts off great – excellent, even! No nightmares, and Zuko is less grumpy than usual. Azula has never been so excited for a lesson before, and all but drags Iroh up to their usual training spot on the deck.

“Why don’t you show me what you can do, and we’ll go from there?” Iroh suggests. Azula eagerly takes her stance, inhales deeply, and starts making the familiar circular motions with her hands, feeling out the positive and negative energies and pulling them apart. She hasn’t had a chance to practice lightning bending since before the Agni Kai – there’s no space for her to do it in her room, and for Zuko’s sake she’s not allowed to firebend outside of training sessions – but the knowledge comes back to her readily.

Which is why Azula is so shocked and furious when it literally blows up in her face.

“Are you alright, Niece?” Uncle fusses over Azula where she sits on the deck, briefly frozen in place where she landed. It isn’t the explosion itself that’s rattled her so badly, but her own failure. The idea that she could do everything perfectly and still not be good enough.

“I’m fine!” She snaps, shoving her uncle away and leaping back up. It was a fluke, nothing more. She repeats her actions. She knows her technique is flawless, but still she ends up sprawled on her back on the cold metal. She’s back on her feet before Uncle even has a chance to move. This time. This time, for sure.

Over and over again, she tries. Iroh watches sadly as Azula gets increasingly frustrated and frantic with every failed attempt. Finally, she screams, “WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME?!” and slams a flaming fist down onto the deck, melting a hole clean through the steel.

She’s panting heavily and literally shaking with anger. Azula knows she’s having a temper tantrum, something she used to frequently mock Zuko for, but she can’t stop. It’s bad enough that Father ruined Zuko. She can’t stand the idea that he’s broken her too.

“I don’t understand! I’ve done it before, and I know I’m doing it right, so WHY ISN’T IT WORKING?!” Azula yells, grabbing at her hair and pulling. The physical pain is a welcome distraction from the maelstrom raging inside her. People used to think I was capable of anything, and now look at me: whining and crying like a child because I can’t bend lightning. How pathetic.

Iroh knows perfectly well why Azula is struggling, but he also knows his niece well enough to know that pointing out the problem directly when she’s already worked up to such an extreme extent is only going to get him screamed at and quite possibly burned. He’s been dealing with this pretty much daily from Zuko, and the two of them are much more alike than they think.

“Perhaps you just need a demonstration, to refresh your memory. It has been a while since you last used this technique,” he says calmly. As he settles into his stance, Iroh puts special effort into projecting an image of serenity and focused confidence, hoping that Azula will pick up on it and remember that rather important lesson.

No such luck, but at least she’s settled down enough to pay attention.

He goes through the motions slowly, talking her through the steps as he does, and hears Azula’s displeased huff when he does exactly the same moves as she was doing. Iroh feels the sparks forming at his fingertips and thrusts his arms out, releasing a massive bolt of lightning.

He takes a moment to settle his energy before turning to face his niece. She isn’t there.

“Princess Azula?” He calls, not entirely sure why he bothers. She’s probably just gone off to sulk, if her earlier tantrum is any indication, he reasons. Still, old parental instincts honed to a finely sensitive instrument (Lu Ten was a very curious child with a frightening knack for getting himself into trouble) bid Iroh to search for the young princess.

He finds her a few minutes later, curled into a ball in a tiny space under a piece of machinery and hyperventilating so much he fears she will pass out.

“Azula!” He gasps, instinctively reaching for her.

“Get away!” Azula shrieks, sending an arc of flame at her uncle. He dissipates the flames easily, but the extreme heat has partially melted the metal of Azula’s hiding spot. Iroh’s eyes widen and he grabs Azula by the arm, pulling her away just before the rest of the metal buckles and collapses.

In her panic, Azula doesn’t seem to notice how close she just came to being crushed and continues to fight: kicking, screaming, and spewing blindingly hot fire all over the place. Iroh hangs on grimly and carries her back to their training spot, then sits down and holds her gently but securely with her back pressed to his chest, breathing slowly and deeply while he waits for her to calm down.

It takes a few minutes but finally, Azula’s breathing begins to slow and she goes limp as all the fight leaves her. After another minute, she speaks up.

“What… what was that?” She asks shakily.

“You had a panic attack,” Iroh replies solemnly. Azula frowns. “I know it is distressing to lose control of yourself like that, but you have nothing to be ashamed of.”

She scoffs. “That’s not what Father would say.”

“Your father isn’t here right now,” Iroh says sternly, “and I say that there is nothing wrong with needing help, especially after what you’ve been through.” Azula stays quiet, and Iroh sighs. “I want to help you, Azula, but I can’t do that if you won’t talk to me.”

“What do you want to know?” She asks quietly.

“Have you been having trouble sleeping?” He asks gently, “nightmares, thoughts that won’t leave you alone, anything like that?”

She nods. “Yeah. Do you – do you know what’s happening to me?”

“I believe I do. It’s most common among soldiers, but it can happen to anyone who has endured a particularly stressful event. Your mind is stuck in the same life-or-death mentality as it was during that event; it cannot let go of what happened and accept that you’re safe now.”

“Okay, so how do I get it unstuck?”

“I’m afraid there is no simple solution,” Iroh said gently. Azula scoffed. Uncle’s so caught up in all his long-con strategies and conspiracies, he wouldn’t know a simple solution if it punched him in the face. “But running away from the past will not help you get past this. You will need to confront what happened - and your feelings about it – head on. If you ever want to master lightning, you must first master your fear. Learn to accept it, and then learn to let it go.”

“Right, so how exactly do I do that?” Azula asks impatiently.

“What works for one person may not work for another,” Iroh warns, and Azula thinks that not rolling her eyes is one of the hardest things she’s ever done. “But I would recommend that you start with journaling; putting your thoughts to paper is a good way to work through them.”

Chapter Text

Azula’s Journal, Day 1

Uncle says I can just start writing whatever I think of, but I don’t want to do that. I want to start from the beginning.

As far as I can tell, all of this started when Mom died disappeared. I was never really close to her – I hated her, actually. Still do, if I’m being honest. When she left us, I told myself that I didn’t care. I was lying. I know she did it to protect us, because she didn’t think she had any other choice, whatever. I still felt like she abandoned me. It made me feel like maybe if I’d been a little nicer to Zuko, if I hadn’t acted out quite so much, maybe she would have loved me enough to at least try to stay. I try to tell myself that it wasn’t my fault, but I guess I’ll never really know if that’s true.

Either way, all those feelings just made me want to work even harder. I thought maybe if I could be the perfect daughter that Father wanted, he wouldn’t leave me like she did. But the problem was, Mom was always the one who protected Zuko. Once she was gone, I had to step up and fill that role. I had to spend most of my free time running after my idiot brother and keeping him out of trouble, instead of training like I wanted to. I resented both of them for it, but it never even crossed my mind to just leave Zuko to his own devices. I’m sure it would have saved me a lot of trouble, and I know now that all I was really doing was delaying the inevitable, but I couldn’t just abandon him, especially when he was so upset about Mom leaving.

I used to believe what Father said about Zuko: that he was pathetic and useless, that he was weak. But now I know better. There are different kinds of strength. I may be a prodigy, but when I failed, I fell apart. Zuko isn’t like that at all. He can fail at something over and over again, but no matter how many times he falls, he just gets right back up again and keeps trying. It’s admirable. Maybe I should tell him that, but maybe not. Once, I would have worried about making his ego too big. Now I worry that if I tell him I admire his hard work and determination, he’ll work himself half to death trying to impress me.

I don’t know how to tell him that I’m already proud of him. I wish Ty Lee was here, she would know what to say. She was always good at all that feelings crap. Even if Zuko never learns to bend again, I’ll still be proud of him. I think he’s incredible just for being able to find the strength to get out of bed each morning. If I were in his situation, I’m not so sure I’d be able to.

Azula’s Journal, Day 3

Zuko and I sat outside on the deck and watched the stars last night. It was really nice. We talked about all of our favourite memories from growing up, and for a little while it felt like I had my brother back.

I remember our Ember Island vacations the best. Mom would take us to see these awful plays, and Zuko and I would complain the whole way through but once it was over, we’d go outside and spend hours playing on the beach, re-enacting all of our favourite scenes. Zuko always let me play the hero.

I used to love those memories, but now they just hurt. Because I know nothing will ever be the same again. Zuko and I are so different now, Mom’s long gone, and the only way this is going to end is with Father dead. He deserves it, I know he does. He’s a cruel, evil man who’s hurt a lot of people, us maybe most of all. But as much as I want my revenge, I hope I don’t have to be the one to strike the killing blow. I’m not sure I’d be strong enough to look my own father in the eyes as I take his life. I can’t decide whether or not that’s a good thing.

Azula’s Journal, Day 6

Today was one of Zuko’s bad days. He did a pretty good job of hiding it this morning, but I could tell he was in pain. Around noon, he freaked out, like I did after Uncle tried bending lightning in front of me. I’m not sure exactly what triggered it, but he just kept getting more and more agitated until he snuffed out all of the candles in the corridor and dove into a supply closet, rocking back and forth with his nails digging into his palms. It should have been an upsetting thing to witness, but I didn’t feel a thing. I helped him breathe through it, then cleaned up the cuts his nails left in his hands. I’m the only one who he’ll let anywhere near him when he gets like that. He even shies away from Uncle. As far as I can tell, it has something to do with my fire: Zuko was burnt by orange fire, but since mine is blue, that’s okay. Or something like that, I don’t really know. Zuko doesn’t talk about it, so I don’t ask.

Huh, I think I’ve finally figured out why Uncle is making me do this whole journaling thing. I didn’t let myself feel upset before, but now that I can think about it again without needing to do anything, it… hurts. It really, really hurts.

I need to master lightning. I need to be stronger. I never want to see Zuko in pain like that again.

Azula’s Journal, Day 8

I’m tired. I’m so tired. I don’t know how much longer I can keep doing this, but I don’t have a choice. I have to keep training; I have to be the best of the best. It’s the only way we’ll ever be safe. I just want one fucking night of uninterrupted sleep. That’s not too much to ask for, is it?

I’m so sick of having to be the strong one all the time. I put on a brave face for Zuko’s sake, but I haven’t felt strong in a really long time. We’ve been on this floating rust-bucket for what, a month? Two? I still haven’t asked Uncle where we’re going or when we’re getting there. I know I should – we need a plan. But the truth is, I’m terrified. I have no idea what’s going to happen to us once we get off this ship. At least here, I know we’re safe. And if I don’t know Uncle’s plans for our future, I can pretend that we’ll be able to stay here forever.

Azula’s Journal, Day 9

I think I’m hitting my breaking point. I don’t know what to do anymore. I can’t get over this stupid fear, so I can’t master lightning, and if I can’t master lightning then I’ll never be the most powerful firebender of all time, and if I’m not the best, then I won’t be able to protect us from everything! I wish there was someone here I could talk to. Ty Lee would know exactly what to do and say to make me feel better, she always does. Or Mai – Mai’s even worse with feelings than I am, but she’s strong. She could hold it together for me while I fall apart. I miss my friends so much it aches, but they must be half a world away by now. I don’t trust Uncle with this, but I don’t want to burden Zuko when he already has so many troubles of his own. I don’t know what to do!

Azula instinctively grabs at her hair and yanks with both fists. The pain is grounding, real. She gets unsteadily to her feet and wanders out into the corridor, leaving the journal open on her desk. It’s the middle of the night, so no one else is awake. She intended to just go for a walk to clear her mind, but her feet have other plans. Without even realising it, she ends up in front of Zuko’s door. It opens just as she raises her hand to knock.

“Lala? What is it?” Zuko asks blearily, rubbing the sleep from his good eye. There are so many things Azula wants to say – she wants to tell him off for using that dumb childhood nickname, to tell him that she’s fine and apologise for waking him, to let all the words and feelings she’s been letting pour over the pages of her journal spill from her lips too – but none of them will come out.

For almost all of their lives, Azula has been the strong one. Ever since their mother left, she was the one who looked after Zuko. But right now, more than she’s ever wanted anything else in her life, Azula just wants them to be okay. She wants her big brother.

The dam finally breaks, and Azula sobs. She hates feeling small and helpless like this, but Zuko doesn’t berate her for her weakness. Of course he wouldn’t, it’s Zuko. Zuko would never do that. He just grabs her gently by the shoulders and pulls her in for a hug, leading them back into his room and closing the door behind them. He sits on the edge of his bed and Azula curls gratefully into his side. She feels lost and adrift like a tiny ship on a stormy sea, but Zuko is a warm and solid presence at her side and his arms are strong when they wrap around her.

Azula has no idea how much time she spends bawling into her brother’s shoulder, but after a while he starts humming. The song is familiar, and it takes her a moment to place where she knows it from but once she remembers, she isn’t sure if she wants to laugh or cry harder. Zuko is humming the same lullaby their mother always used to sing for them. Azula had been pretty young when her mother stopped singing to her, but she still knows all the words by heart.

Her voice shakes as she sings along, but for once, Azula doesn’t care that she’s less than perfect. This isn’t solving any of her problems, but it’s nice to do something other than worry and train. Once the song is over, she finds that she feels a little better. All of her fears are still there, but they don’t feel so overwhelming anymore.

“Thanks,” she says softly, tugging her sleeves down over her hands and using them to dry her eyes. “I really needed that.”

“I’m your brother, ‘Zula,” Zuko says seriously, “I’ll always have your back.” As soon as he says it, she knows it’s true. They might have been at each other’s throats when they were younger, but over the last few years, they’ve seen each other at their best and worst and stuck together through it all. “Do you want to talk about it?” He asks hesitantly.

Azula thinks for a moment. “Yeah,” she says, “I think I do.”

Chapter Text

“I’ve tried so hard to be brave,” Azula begins, “but the truth is, I’m petrified. I’m so fucking scared all the time and I don’t know how to deal with it! I can’t stop thinking about what’s going to happen when Father finds us – and he will find us eventually, you know he will – and I’m terrified that when he does, I won’t be strong enough. I have to get over this stupid mental block so that I can master lightning, so that I can be strong enough to keep us safe, but I’m not making any progress and I worry that maybe I never will!”

“Azula, you’re already strong enough,” Zuko says, “you fought Dad!”

“And lost!” Azula interrupts.

“So? You still did it when no one else even had the guts to try!” Azula huffs and breaks eye contact, glaring at her bare feet. Zuko sighs. “’Zula, look at me? Please?” Azula glances up, the angle a little awkward considering she’s still squished into his side, and Zuko gently takes her by the shoulders, meeting her moody gaze with his own intense, mismatched eyes. “Uncle might have been the one to get us out of Caldera, but you were the one who saved me.”

Azula hears what he doesn’t say: ‘I would be dead if it wasn’t for you.’

Zuko continues, “I understand how you feel – believe me, I’m scared too – but I know that as long as we stick together, we can get through anything.” His small grin doesn’t quite reach his eyes, but her brother’s unwavering faith in her still makes Azula feel better. She smiles back and lightly headbutts his shoulder, earning a soft chuckle.

“Hey, uh, while we’re on the topic of helping each other, I was wondering if you might be able to help me with this problem I’ve been having?” Zuko asks.

“Sure, what is it?”

“Well, you know how I’m pretty much blind and deaf on my left side now?” Zuko pauses for a moment, and Azula nods and hums questioningly to encourage him to continue. “Well, uh, walking into things all the time is getting old really fast, and I’m jumpy enough without constantly being startled, so I guess I was wondering if you might be able to figure out some way to help me compensate?”

Azula brightens considerably. With how wary Zuko had been about bringing it up, she’d honestly thought the problem would be something much more serious. Then again, he’d grown up with Ozai as a father too and probably had similar issues to her about being perceived as weak.

“Of course I’ll help! Just give me a minute to think of something, okay?” Zuko agrees and grabs a book off his nightstand, sprawling back in bed to read while Azula paces the small room and brainstorms ideas. He only gets through three pages before she exclaims, “okay, I have an idea!”

“What is it?”

“Um… on a scale of 1 to 10, 1 being perfectly fine and 10 being completely freaking out, how cool are you right now?” Azula winces internally at the look on Zuko’s face. Right, I suppose that does sound rather ominous.

“Uh, 2 or 3, I guess? Why?” He asks suspiciously.

“My idea involves bending, at least a little,” she says, trying to sound apologetic and probably failing. She can’t help it! She’s only ever modified bending techniques a few times before, and that was exciting enough. Now they have an opportunity to invent a completely new technique!

“Go on,” Zuko says drily, raising his remaining eyebrow.

“The way I figure it is, even if you can’t really bend right now, you’re still a firebender. You can still use your abilities passively. Now, firebenders are unique in being able to create their element, but like all the other elements we’re also connected to other sources of fire, not just our own. And what is fire? Heat! Everything around us has heat! Living things make it, and objects absorb it. I’m hoping that with a little practice, you can learn to use your bending to see with heat!”

Zuko visibly takes a moment to process what she just said – Azula is willing to admit that she rambled a little, but she’s excited, okay? It’s not every day you get to invent an entirely new bending technique!

“Okay, let’s try it.” Azula grins so wide her face hurts, and she stands a couple paces away from where Zuko is still sitting on his bed.

“Close your eyes,” she instructs, and is mildly surprised when Zuko obeys without complaint. “Now, I’m going to light a small fire in one of my hands, and I want you to tell me which hand, okay?” Zuko nods, and almost as soon as she feels the little blaze’s warmth, Zuko speaks.

“Left,” he says, without any hesitation. Azula’s eyebrows raise, but she doesn’t comment other than to tell him he’s correct. She snuffs out the fire, takes a step back, pulls the residual heat out of her hand to avoid confusing him, and lights another. “Left again.”

“Correct.” She takes another step back and repeats the motions.

“Right.” He’s correct yet again, the increasing distance apparently not fazing him too much. She decides to make things a little more challenging. Zuko’s brows furrow for a moment, then he says, “right foot?”

“Yeah, it seemed like it was a little too easy for you,” she teases. Zuko rolls his eyes good-naturedly, and Azula decides to up the ante again and not remove the residual heat before making each new flame.

“Left hand, right hand, left foot, left hand again, right foot, right hand, mouth,” Zuko rattles off the location of each new fire with no hesitation at all, sounding almost bored. Azula’s eyebrows are halfway to her hairline; she hadn’t been sure this would work at all, and she never would have guessed that Zuko would pick it up so quickly!

“Okay, how are you doing this?” She asks, her curiosity finally getting the better of her.

Zuko shrugs. “I’m just using my chi to reach out for the fires, exactly like I would if I was trying to take control of it, except I don’t take control. It’s not like it’s hard, either: your fire is really hot, even from this distance.” Huh. Spoken like a true prodigy.

Zuko and Azula spend hours practicing and refining their new technique. By the time the sun has risen, Zuko is able to pick out which section of the metal walls of his room Azula is gently heating with pinpoint accuracy. A couple hours after that, he can reliably navigate around his room while blindfolded, just by feeling for the slight differences in the temperatures of the various sun-warmed surfaces.

He takes the blindfold off 10 minutes before they have to go down to breakfast, and Azula doesn’t think she’s ever seen him smile so wide. “Azula,” he says, “you’re a fucking genius!”

***

Azula’s Journal, Day 10

I tell myself at least a dozen times a day that I’m safe, but when Zuko was holding me in his arms earlier was the first time since the Agni Kai that it’s actually felt true.

Father had it wrong. Zuko isn’t weak, and I’m not strong. We’re both just people who are good at different things, and there’s nothing wrong with that.

And I was wrong, too. I thought that I had to protect Zuko, but now I see that I was underestimating him, just like everyone else always does. From now on, we’re going to protect each other.

We already make a great team. One day, we’ll be unstoppable.

Chapter Text

Zuko and Azula traipse downstairs to the ship’s mess hall side by side. For once, Uncle Iroh is more excited to see them than their breakfast.

“Ah, Nephew, Niece! I was wondering where you two were hiding! You both seem much more cheerful than normal; should I be worried?” Uncle teases good-naturedly, and both siblings roll their eyes in sync.

Their eyes meet briefly in silent conversation before Azula speaks. “Zuzu and I decided to work together to solve a couple of problems we’ve been having. It was very effective.”

Iroh beams at them. “I am so glad the two of you are getting along these days!” Uncle launches into some lengthy nostalgic spiel about how they seemed to hate each other so much when they were little that he almost feared they would never get along, but Azula largely tunes him out and focuses on scarfing down her breakfast as quickly as is appropriate for a (former) princess – she’s famished after staying up half the night training with Zuko, and she wants to get back to said training as soon as possible.

Out of the corner of her eye, she sees her brother doing the same with significantly less care for royal etiquette. Ah well, she thinks fondly, I suppose some things never change.

“-and I believe I forgot to mention it earlier, but we should be arriving at our destination in a few days,” Uncle says nonchalantly. Azula’s attention snaps back to him so fast she nearly gets whiplash, and as soon as the words register, she feels like someone has just dumped a bucket of icy water down her back.

Judging by the way Zuko freezes beside her, with his chopsticks halfway to his open mouth, he probably feels the same way. Surprisingly, he is the first to recover.

“Where are we going, exactly?” He asks stiffly, and Azula is begrudgingly impressed by how steady his voice is.

“The Southern Air Temple!” Iroh says just as merrily as before. The siblings share another bemused glance. Neither of them had expected that – even before the war, the Earth Kingdom was where just about every refugee and fugitive went, so they had assumed that they would be headed there too.

Although, maybe that’s exactly why it’s such a smart move, Azula mused, the Air Temples have been completely abandoned for decades, the Poles aren’t exactly hospitable at the best of times, and while the Earth Kingdom is a good place to go if you want to disappear, it’s also the last main war front. Begrudgingly, she admits to herself that she’s starting to understand how her kooky, tea-obsessed uncle made a reputation for himself as one of the most brilliant military strategists the Fire Nation has ever seen. No one will think to look for us there, at least for a long time.

“That’s… actually not a bad plan,” she says, and Zuko looks slightly less baffled. He might not completely understand the sly genius of Uncle’s plan, but he trusts her judgement and that’s good enough.

“Excellent!” Uncle exclaims, “you two should start packing your things; we should arrive before dawn on the day after tomorrow.” Neither Zuko nor Azula has the heart to remind their Uncle that the only possessions they have are the clothes on their backs and the contents of their pockets.

Once they’ve finished with their breakfast, they head back to Zuko’s room to keep practicing their new technique. We should really think of a name for it, Azula thinks idly as they walk. She’s itching to learn to do it as well, but until Zuko is able to produce fire again, that’s not going to happen. She might trust Uncle now, but that doesn’t mean she’s willing to share what they’ve created. This is just her and Zuko’s thing, and she wants it to stay that way, at least for now.

And besides, she thinks as she watches her brother smoothly dodge obstacles in his path with a new-found confidence, just helping him master it is reward enough.

It takes them less than twenty minutes of practicing to realise that they’ve already progressed past being able to train in just the one small room. Azula is a little too excited when Zuko suggests they play hide and seek; she hasn’t played games with her brother like this in years, so even if it is just a training exercise, she’s still thrilled at the excuse to goof off like little kids.

She bolts out of his room, down the corridor, and ducks into a supply closet. Not counting the remainder of her find-a-hiding-place time, it takes him 37 seconds to find her. She gives him a high-five when he opens the closet door, then races off down another corridor. She goes further away this time, but it only takes him 24 seconds to locate her.

They keep ‘training’ like this for several hours, hiding all over the ship now, the time flying by. Zuko’s new record is 19 seconds from almost one end of the little ship to the other. He’s getting very good at distinguishing Azula’s heat signature, but she laughs so hard she nearly cries when he tells her about accidentally walking in on a couple of the crew members getting handsy in a supply closet after mistaking their combined heat signatures for hers.

“You know, I’ve been trying to think of a name for this thing,” Zuko says once they’ve finished laughing themselves silly. Azula hums to get him to continue. “The best way I can describe it is that it creates a… a kind of picture in my mind, so I was thinking, how about we call it ‘heat vision’?”

Azula thinks for a moment, then snaps her fingers and grins. “Thermal vision,” she says proudly, “it’s just a fancier word for heat, but it sounds better.” Zuko agrees and matches her bright smile with his own half-frozen one. Seeing his disfigured face doesn’t repulse or unsettle her anymore – it’s just a part of him now, like the gold colour of his eyes or the slightly chipped front tooth from where she made him fall on his face when they were much younger – but seeing that permanent reminder of their father’s cruelty still tugs at the little ball of hate nestled deep in her heart.

She doesn’t let it faze her. For the first time in what feels like forever, they’re having a genuinely good day, and Azula isn’t going to let anything ruin it.

Really, she should have known better. Nothing good can ever last.