Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Now, Azula, I understand this is a lot. But you mustn’t stress—I myself went through the same thing mere months ago and it was nowhere near as bad as I could’ve expected.” Her brother was doing a—honestly rather decent—imitation of Uncle as he adjusted his hairpiece in the mirror.

The princess rolled her eyes as she pushed down the slight churning in her stomach. People and performances had never shaken her before, why would they start now? She had many times performed her firebending before Fire Lord Azulon, the very man that did not hesitate in ordering her brother’s death. She had made speeches—short ones, mind you—before the entire Royal Fire Academy as was expected of her as top of her class.

This was no different.

It was her birthday and the summer solstice, two of the most important days of the year, there was no reason to be worried. Sure, there had never been such a large ball on her birthday before. Every other year had just been inviting Mai and Ty Lee over in the mornings, then her family would all spent time together in the afternoon and her father would usually accompany her mother reading from theatre scrolls with his firebending, and all meals would be decided by her but… she was not the daughter of the Fire Lord then. She was not, for all anyone knew, the Crown Princess. And so she needed a ball, where she would talk to all the children of the nobility who she had easily surpassed in skill at school, and she would talk to many of the generals who were responsible for ensuring the war continued on and—

There was no use in thinking on it so hard. She smoothed down the hairpieces that framed her face with the excess hair oil that was on her fingertips. It smelt of camellias—not her favourite, but that went to her mother’s fire lily perfume.

Mother had promised her that when she turned twelve she’d get her own small bottle of the perfume, and that she’d teach her to do her own makeup in the very same way she did it.

Azula had no wish to be a carbon copy of her mother—knew it wasn’t at all possible, she was no airbender after all—but she could not deny that her mother was the most beautiful woman in the Fire Nation and that Azula had inherited much of her beauty. She knew the other students at the Academy thought so as well, even if it was more than easy to ignore them. She had no interest in them, she was set to graduate the Academy and pass the National Exam with flying colours by the time she was fourteen.

She frowned as she looked in the mirror.

They weren’t straight.

Her breath escaped as a puff of fire as she reached to pull her hair from its top knot before her brother’s hand stopped her.

“They look perfect, Lala. Trust me. You’ve been focussing on them too long; your mind is convinced there needs to be an imperfection so it’s making one.” He grinned at her in the way that made Mai swoon but just made her roll her eyes. Trust her brother to be completely oblivious that half the Royal Academy for Girls fawned over him—and not just in her grade—including one of their best friends.

“I suppose.” She wiped her hands on the cloth on the vanity, choosing instead to examine her brother’s appearance. She couldn’t have him ruining her ball after all, it needed to be perfect. She would trust him with her life, with any secret she had, but trusting him to look perfect was a whole other matter entirely. His imperfections were part of his charisma, they were what drew so many people in—not that he realized—because they were imperfections that normally didn’t matter. But they mattered now.

Nothing could be imperfect.

“Hey.” He batted her hand away as she tried to fix the tiny strands that escaped his top knot. They wouldn’t be an issue if he had any strands of hair out intentionally, but her brother always preferred to have all his hair pulled back if it was to be up. “Seriously, this ball really isn’t anything to worry about, Lala. Mine went well, yours is going to go just fine.”

“It needs to be perfect, Zuzu,” She muttered as she tried to reach out to fix it again, but he caught her wrist. Then her other one. Damn him and his reflexes.

“It really doesn’t.” He let them go and grinned at her again. “What will happen if it’s not perfect? Realistically?”

She turned away to focus on the many folds and layers of her robes—he looked good enough anyway. “Father’s rule is still not entirely stable—if they see any evidence of weakness—”

“They’ll what? There is a reason our family is on the throne, they wouldn’t dare put anyone without Agni’s bloodline on it, if they could even unseat us in the first place. Uncle has put full support behind dad, there’s no one else they could put on the throne. Besides, they won’t take a single error in his eleven year old daughter’s birthday celebration as weakness.”

“They could find Princess Anzu,” She muttered quietly as her hands fell to her sides. There was not a single identifiable imperfection to correct and yet she still felt off-kilter. “She went missing after Grandfather’s death and they were known to be close, surely she would take exception to the successor that killed him. They could put Lo and Li on the throne, or Master Piandao.”

“Master Piandao doesn’t like dad, but he’s not of Agni’s bloodline and he readily acknowledges that. Lo and Li support him fully—remember, they helped to forge the documents in the first place. And no one knows where Princess Anzu is except for her children, and if they refused to tell you when you made your petition, why would they tell anyone else?” She hated it when her brother made good points.

It still stung that they wouldn’t be able to get the only lightningbending master in existence to teach them lightning when the time came. She respected Lo and Li greatly—they had taught her father, after all—and they had both their father and uncle available to give any assistance on the practical aspect of lightningbending but…

It was Princess Anzu. The very woman who brought lightningbending back from extinction, after being considered a nonbender for the first twelve years of her life. The one person who spoke openly against Fire Lord Azulon and did not sway even once. The one who taught her nonbender daughters so well that they themselves could teach lightningbending. The Chief Advisor to Fire Lord Azulon in the most prosperous years of his reign.

Azula had never even gotten a chance to talk to her. To prove herself to the very woman to that acted as her key inspiration.

Princess Anzu had passed the National Exam at fourteen, although, apparently, she had been like Zuko in that she wasn’t able to go to the Royal Academy.

There was a knock at the door, one soft and then one sharper.

“Come in, Uncle.” She turned to face the door as Iroh pushed it open, his arms full of colourful fabric-wrapped bundles.

“Thank you, Prince Zuko.” He nodded at her brother, who held the door open for him, before placing the gifts down on her bed with an exaggerated grunt. “Ah, look at you, Princess Azula. The picture of a princess, beautiful, strong, and I am sure you have at least half a dozen varied weapons on you,” He said, smiling and spreading his arms dramatically.

“A princess never reveals her secret,” She responded, allowing a small smirk to play on her lips as she bowed her head. Indeed, hidden within the folds of her robes she had her lujiaodao, a few small knives gifted to her by Mai her last birthday, and four small bottles of poison she made with her mother the week before, with effects ranging from mild sickness to death.

Herbalism and training with her lujiaodao were the two activities she had with her mother but without Zuko, just as Zuko played music with her now that she had finally been allowed to stop her regular music lessons. She had tried to teach Zuko some herbalism as well, but he hadn’t been all that interested—which Azula herself would have easily predicted.

Still, the ability to poison someone was an opportunity she would never pass up, and Zuko had learnt enough to not poison himself and avoid being poisoned.

Her uncle hummed as he reached out and, very carefully, pulled a few stray strands out of her hair.

She had been making imperfections in her mind before, but this was different. He was intentionally messing up her perfection.

Before the anger bubbling in her chest could prompt her voice, her uncle spoke. “A little bit of intentional imperfection is considered lucky. This is your first time having your birthday as Crown Princess, it will never be perfect because nothing is ever perfect. By having intentional, inconsequential imperfection, people will not notice unintentional imperfection.”

She froze as he placed his hands on her shoulders.

“I understand this is a lot, Princess Azula, and you are going very good at hiding it. But you don’t need to stress yourself out. If anything happens, I, or your father, or your mother, will deal with it. It is your birthday, Princess, enjoy it.”

He placed his hand on her cheek for a moment as she stayed stock still before allowing it to fall from her face. “Perfection is not expected nor demanded from you by anyone but yourself, Princess Azula. Do keep that in mind.” The silence hung in the air for a few moments before he broke it with a clap. “Now! It’s time for me and Prince Zuko to take our leave and start the ball with your father. Your mother will be coming in a few minutes to help you finish getting ready and escort you there. You will be expected to make a short speech, but afterward you are free to mingle with anyone you wish. Some people may try to approach you to give gifts—alert your father or myself if so, all gifts for you are supposed to be taken upon entrance to the palace, though Ty Lee and Mai were allowed to hold onto their gifts to give you themselves.” He began to corral Zuko out, despite his obvious reluctance. “Remember, it will be just fine.”

And then she was alone.

She looked at the gifts on her bed and sorely wished for a moment that they were gone, just so that she could sit on it. It was her room, she should be able to do anything she wished, and yet she could not.

Because there were gifts on her bed.

Because it was her birthday.

She should be able to do anything she wished; it was her birthday.

And yet she could not.

Because it was her birthday.

A paradox. She had always hated paradoxical situations, she much preferred there to be clear answers and guidelines to things.

And she could not sit on the floor, because then she would dirty her robes and they would be out of place. And even if intentional imperfections could possibly be good—not that she entirely believed it, but her Uncle was occasionally right and thus it should be considered—that most certainly was not intentionally imperfect in the correct way.

Azula folded her hands in front of her and let out a slow breath, standing straight and proper. That was fine. She was patient, certainly more than Zuko. She could wait.

And wait.

She felt the flicker of the flame inside of her. In. Out.

And wait.

Her mother strode in, the picture of a perfect Fire Lady. It was her perfect role, the part that he had been destined to play her entire life. “Azula, why are you standing there?” She pulled the chair that normally sat before her vanity from the corner. “Sit, sit.”

“I…” How had she forgotten the chair? Was its destined part not to be sat upon, unlike the bed for sleeping and the floor for walking? She let her mother’s hands guide her down and watched as her mother knelt before her, producing a small makeup compact.

She smelt like fire lilies.

Was she not worried about her robes becoming dirty? Her rooms had not been swept since the day before. Was she not worried about intentional imperfection?

Her mothers skilled hands painted her eyes and lips as Azula stared down at her mother’s knees against the ground.

Her hands stilled.

“Azula? Dear, are you alright?”

Of course she was alright, she thought as she collapsed into her mother’s arms. Of course she was alright, it was her birthday. Of course she was alright, she was the daughter of the Fire Lord and she was as close to perfection as an eleven year old girl could be.

She buried her face into her mother’s shoulder, shaking slightly as she rubbed her back.

“How about we don’t put makeup on this year, hm?” Her mother spoke quietly as she held her. “I understand it’s tradition at this point, but it isn’t as though you won’t have dozens more birthdays to wear makeup.”

She nodded silently as she tried to peel herself back from her mother only to fall into her arms again. She wasn’t ready, not yet.

“Instead, how about a spritz of my perfume, hm? And perhaps we can fashion your hair differently—the birthday girl deserves a special hairstyle. Maybe your hair down?”

Rationally, she knew why her mother was talking the way she was. With hair down it was much harder to have a hair out of place, so much harder to find imperfection, even if it was harder to fight in.

Even still, she reached up to pull her hair out of her topknot and allowed her mother to comb out the rest of her hair, gathering only a small amount of hair into a knot just so she could still display her headpiece. She closed her eyes as her mother wiped the makeup off and helped her stand to fix her clothes.

Her eyes flicked to her mother’s robes, but she couldn’t find any imperfection, caused by her kneeling on the floor or not. Perhaps that meant her own robes were still perfect.

Her mother applied the perfume and pulled away, allowing Azula to look at herself in the mirror. She looked… young. She knew she was young, of course, but she always looked older on her birthday, perhaps due to her tradition of wearing makeup that had started when she begged her mother to apply some on her on her sixth birthday.

Her fingers drifted up to wipe a smear of paint away from the corner of her eye, barely visible and thus missed by her mother.

She didn’t look bad, though. She was unused to having her hair down, particularly going into public, and she couldn’t find herself doing it regularly, but it wasn’t bad. Certainly, it was less precise than ensuring the majority of her hair was gathered into a top knot except for two perfect, precise strands.

She looked fine, and she smelt like fire lilies.

“This will do.” She decided, unable to keep the slight waver from her voice. She had a room full of people to give a speech too, and it would do to get it over with as soon as possible.

Then, she could sneak away with Zuko and Mai and Ty Lee and her friends would give her her gifts (which was not proper) and then the ball would end and she would get out of her fancy robes and wear her comfortable, early robes before the sun had even set (which was not proper) and her mother would use her airbending to make the wind chimes sing and her father would possibly quiz her and her brother on their Water (both of which were secrets so they mustn’t be proper), and her sister would make a mess of herself and Azula would do the same as she got powder from daifuku all over her cheeks (which was most certainly not proper).

And she could just be Azula.

Not perfect, Princess Azula, daughter of Fire Lord Ozai and Heir to the Throne.

Just Azula.

“Very well.” Her mother bent to kiss the top of her head then guided her out of her room, through the halls of the palace, to the large doors that led to the banquet hall where everyone awaited her.

Her.

Perfect her.

The fire flared as she walked in, her head held high as she looked upon the crowd of people. She could identify some people immediately, Mai with her parents quite near to the royal table, Ty Lee and her six sisters and two mothers nearby. They were honoured guests after all, everyone knew that Mai and Ty Lee were her best friends if Zuko was discounted. Further, but still close, she could see many of her classmates from the academy, along with military men that hoped to speak with the best young mind in military strategy.

Not that her father would allow them to speak long—he was adamant that she and Zuko were not yet ready to have their minds “poisoned” by men such as them, as he put it. She thought it was more likely that he just didn’t want to lose them to the battlefield like they had lost Lu Ten.

Her cousin had been only twenty-two, and already it was nearly taboo for most to speak his name in the palace for fear of upsetting her uncle. Privately, she thought that it made him happy whenever they spoke of his son, to be reminded him, but she supposed it might be different if it were a servant or a military officer who knew him only for his ability to kill and ability to die.

Princess Azula stopped at her place next to the Prince, the Fire Lady continuing along to take her place between the Fire Lord and his Chief Advisor, who handed her Princess Kiyumi.

“Honoured citizens of Agni, it is my greatest honour to welcome you into the palace on this day that is not only my birthday, but the most sacred of days when Agni himself stays graces us with his light as long as he possibly can. Eat! Drink! Celebrate! And when you return home, let your dreams be full of light as well.”

It was a short speech, far shorter than the speeches that she gave in school as she received her awards, and yet it was all that was expected of her, a princess but one of only eleven years old. She settled into her seat as the guests took their cue to begin eating. Despite its brevity, her speech had been carefully planned and written and rewritten for weeks up to her birthday. It followed the same general structure of all birthday speeches, but Uncle had suggested the religious elements to remind the people that they were Agni’s chosen rulers of the Fire Nation and of the world, and Mother had agreed and added that it may help to sway many of the deeply spiritual rural areas in their favour.

Azula herself didn’t much care. She had her doubts on the existence of spirits, but Uncle and Lu Ten had always been very spiritual. And she knew that it was no coincidence that the peak of Fire Lord Azulon’s approval was correlated with his portrayal of him and his wife mirroring Agni and his own—if talking about the Great Spirit a little bit would strengthen her father’s rule, then she would not protest.

Spirits did exist, after all, she knew that. Uncle had been to the Spirit World and it had turned him very quickly grey, and the Avatar had been a spirit within a human vessel. She was just doubtful as to how much Agni cared about them, even if he had bestowed the most worthy of them with the gift of firebending and the less worthy still with skin resistant to burn and tolerance of both heat and cold that the other nations couldn’t boast.

Even the weakest of their nonbenders were better than the strongest of theirs.

And who was Agni to decide who was most worthy and least, anyway? Azula sipped her fruit juice as she looked upon those there to celebrate her birth, or perhaps merely to try and curry her favour. Two of the worthiest people she knew were nonbenders, after all. Did Mai and Ty Lee not deserve Agni’s gifts more than the likes of some of the men and women here? Did her mother not deserve to be a firebender rater than deal with the burden of trying not to become like those of the Air Nation?

What of Lo and Li? And Master Piandao?

Zuko bumped shoulders with her, and she turned to see his grinning face.

“You were thinking too hard.” He shrugged slightly when she rose an eyebrow. “It’s your birthday, Azula, relax. Did mom let you wear her perfume?”

She let her shoulder slump and her spine curve ever so slightly as she picked up a dumpling with her chopsticks. “Yeah. She put it on me when… We’ll discuss it later, okay?”

She didn’t want to possibly expose her weakness with so many people around. She knew how well servants could listen when they wanted to, that was why Mother insisted they always be kind to the servants. Or at least, why Azula understood they should always be kind to them, because kindness for kindness’s sake always seemed like a way to hide the truth under pretty words.

Azula was good at finding the truth.

“Alright.” He shrugged and stole a piece of meat off her plate, shoving it in his mouth as she discretely stabbed him in the side with her chopsticks. Even on her birthday he couldn’t just be normal and not annoying.

She huffed. “Kiyumi, say “Zuko, you’re annoying”.”

Of course, her sister just gurgled from where she was being held by their father while her mother ate.

She sighed and reached out. “Here, I’ll take her, father. Zuko has ruined my appetite already anyway with his horrid table manners.”

“Have not! You’re just in a weird mood.” He stuck his tongue out before popping a dumpling in his mouth and leaning back as her father handed her Kiyumi in front of him.

“Thank you, Azula.” He responded, pointedly handing Zuko as napkin as he began choking on his dumpling.

She nodded and adjusted her sister in her arms. In less than half a year she had already grown so much and could already roll over on her own. Logically, Azula knew that she had developed in much the same way, but both she and Zuko had been too young to truly remember it.

“I don’t much like babies, but you share my blood and thus can’t be too bad,” She said, offering her sister some of her rice in a spoon. She rejected it, though that wasn’t unexpected given she had just eaten, and Azula didn’t particularly want to deal with the consequences if Kiyumi decided she didn’t like it anyway. “Smart, deciding not to make a mess. You truly are my sister. Then again, Zuko isn’t all that smart but we look so similar that it’s doubtless that we share blood.”

“Lala, I will dunk you in the fountain,” Her brother grumbled, having recovered from his dumpling and now being forced to drink tea by Uncle.

“No, you won’t.” She rolled her eyes. “It’s my birthday, dum dum, or did you forget?”

“It won’t be your birthday tomorrow—”

“Children.” Their mother’s tired voice floated over from a few seats over and Azula at least had the class to mould her expression into something semi-ashamed. Zuko had no such class. “Perhaps you should hand me your sister and go socialize?”

“Yeah, Azula, give Kiyi back to mom so we can both go make fools of ourselves.”

“Kiyumi. And neither of us will be making a fool of ourselves on my birthday, or I will throw you in a volcano for embarrassing me.” She straightened once her arms were free and stood from her place. Already, the majority of people had stood from their seats and gone to socialize in the customary period between the main meal and dessert.

Azula’s sweet tooth wasn’t well known to the general public, but it most certainly was to her family.

“Fine, fine. Just because it’s your birthday,” Her brother said, slinging his arm around her shoulder as she cursed his recent growth spurt. She wasn’t religious, but she wasn’t above praying to a spirit she didn’t believe cared on the off chance that he would even out their heights again.

He wasn’t always the worst brother, but he never failed to annoy her.

Chapter Text

It would be fine so long as she had Zuko by her side, and that she did.

They were a team.

Together, they walked into the midst of the crowds. By custom, they really weren’t supposed to head straight for Mai and Ty Lee, as it was accepted that once they were talking it wasn’t suitable for most people to interrupt them.

“Princess Azula, happy birthday.” Colonel Shinu’s voice was the first she heard, and she turned to see him bow. “Prince Zuko, I am unsurprised to see you accompanying your sister, I hear you are quite the team.”

“Colonel Shinu,” She said, vaguely aware of her brother echoing her a half moment later, as was proper. Here was proof that he could be perfect, at least in manner, if he tried, which made it ever the more frustrating that he never seemed to. “Thank you for your well wishes, I hope your family is doing well. Are the Yuyan Archers as skilled as ever?”

“Even more so, your highness. We have so many fully trained and competent archers that we look to train more recruits than the usual within the next few years. It is a true shame that both you and your brother prefer firebending.” Even as he said that his eyes quite notably drifted to the dual swords sheathed at Zuko’s back.

Her brother shrugged. “Why have just firebending when I could have sharp firebending? Still, I know the Yuyan focus on ranged weaponry, and I find fire darts work perfectly well for those purposes for me.”

“A pity, but an understandable one.” The man smiled, taking the rejection well. “As for my family, they are well. My wife recently bore us a daughter and we plan to send her to the academy rather than the clan’s school. The education is, of course, top rate in both, however my wife has a soft spot for her old school and I can deny her nothing.”

“Of course.” She inclined her head as she privately filed the information away in the back of her mind. Shinu’s daughter could very well be a decent playmate for Kiyumi, though she had no doubt that was the man’s plan when he offered her the information. He was honourable and was one of the few military men that their father had had no problem with talking to them, even when they were younger. He had even given them practical gifts for their age, as opposed to the frivolous and often ornamental gifts most people favoured for young royals.

And he had never spurned Zuko in her favour as many had tried to do as they grew, and it became apparent that Azula was the more perfect of the two. He had always acknowledged them as a team, perhaps because of the Yuyan’s high importance placed upon sibling bonds, more than even parental or spousal bonds.

“I can recommend it highly myself, though it is not without its flaws, as all things are.”

“Of course, of course. I shall leave you two be, I know you have a quota of people you must speak with tonight.” He gave a rather exaggerated wink. “Have a nice night and a wonderful eleventh year, Princess Azula.”

The walked away as the two of them continued their meandering, their hands both clasped behind their back. They looked less alike than they normally did, what with the stark rather than minor difference in their hairstyles. When Zuko had first adopted the top knot after their father’s ascension, he had regularly been confused for her by everyone, including their own parents once r twice.

Now most that frequented the palace had become accustomed to the minor differences between them and their hairstyles, but Azula was sure that had she kept her original hairstyle they would have still been confused by those that lived far and had only been drawn in by the celebration.

They met a few of her classmates, who chittered about her robes and the style of her hair, along with complimenting her makeup despite the fact that she clearly wasn’t wearing any before they spoke to the next person of note.

“Princess Azula. Prince Zuko.” Unlike most, the man didn’t begin with well wishes for her birthday, not did he seem like he planned to.

Zuko’s eyes flicked to her, likely not recognizing him. She couldn’t blame him, truly. With the bags beneath his eyes, his hairline already beginning to recede, and a few grey hairs here and there, at twenty-five their cousin’s boyfriend didn’t look anything like she remembered nor did he look his age.

He would’ve been his widow if Lu Ten had had his way. The memory sourced the fruit juice in her stomach slightly.

“First Lieutenant Zhao.” She said, watching as he finally bowed. She should treat him as any other, their relationship had been a secret after all, and her and Zuko hadn’t interacted with him since they were very young and he had been with Lu Ten when they tried to make their cousin play with them.

“Congratulations on reaching your eleventh year, princess. I hear you are beating many of Prince Lu Ten’s records.” His tone was neutral, so neutral even Azula couldn’t tell whether the fact made him happy or upset.

It was almost admirable.

She could see her brother stiffen ever so slightly from the corner of her eye.

“He found the best study habit to be teaching my brother and I when he was looking to take the National Exam. I was young, but some things stuck enough to make learning much easier and quicker than it had been for him.” She said with her own neutral tone as Zuko shifted ever so slightly closer to her. “I see you have received a promotion since I last saw you, a congratulations of your own is in order.”

“I received it for ensuring that no enemy may get their hands on confidential information that was at risk. Sadly, I did not find the information I was truly seeking, but it was still enough to warrant commendation.” A cryptic answer, if Azula had ever heard one. Expected from a man that had to keep his relationship secret for six years of life and over a year more after his lover’s death.

And Azula had heard the rumours about Commander Zhang’s relationship with his son, even if it seemed Zhao had transferred back to the navy after leaving it to avoid him.

Zhao spoke before she could respond. “I must be going; I simply came to wish you a happy birthday.” He formed the flame and bowed once more before pivoting and striding away.

“Am I that rude, Lala?” Zuko muttered to her as they walked once again, obviously put off kilter by the mention of their cousin. Still, if anyone had the right to mention him that wasn’t in their family, it would be Zhao.

“Worse,” She deadpanned, a slight smirk on her lips. Just a few more people and they would be able to escape to Ty Lee and Mai, then the only people that would be allowed to interrupt and still be considered socially proper would be members of their families, which, despite the fact that Ty Lee had six sisters, was relatively few people.

“Ah. Just the girl I wanted to see.” Normally Azula would bristle at being called a girl instead of by her proper rank or name, but she recognized the warm voice and dark, slightly aged skin immediately.

“Master Piandao!” She discarded propriety and bowed shallowly, even though she wasn’t technically supposed to. Her brother not only discarded it but threw it entirely out the widow as he hugged their teacher.

Well, he was technically family, so perhaps it was more proper than she had first considered. She let her hands fall and joined her brother in hugging the man quickly. Thankfully, it seemed relatively few people had noticed, or at least they had all looked away by the time she pulled away from the hug and scanned the crowd.

“It is nice to see that my favourite students are still happy to see me. It makes me think you’ve actually been keeping up with your practice.” He folded his hands into his sleeves, a twinkle in his eye. “I had brought you a present, Azula, but I didn’t wish to give it to the guard.” He paused. “So, I didn’t.”

She froze. “Oh. I—"

She wasn’t supposed to accept gifts directly from anyone other than Mai or Ty Lee, her father had stressed it and her uncle had even reminded her directly before.

 But she knew Master Piandao well, and he was technically family. Did that permit him?

He rose his hand. “Don’t worry, I’ve given it to Iroh to give to you tonight. Believe it or not, while I may think the throne is… well, that’s a conversation for another time. I’m willing to obey the rules tonight regardless.”

She didn’t have to choose between what she wanted and what was proper. She should’ve known that in the first place, Master Piandao also believed very strongly in what was proper, he was raised by Princess Anzu herself, after all.

Though, she had heard Prince Consort Kuzon—for whether he had claimed that title in life or not, he still had it—had been the antithesis of proper.

“Thank you, I’m sure I will love it.” She bowed her head and let herself smile as widely as she wished. It was her birthday; she could show full appreciation of her gifts. She was supposed to, wasn’t she?

“Now, now, Azula, I think you should hold that declaration until you open it.” He placed his hand on her shoulder and squeezed slightly. “I will be staying in the Caldera for a little while, so expect me to test all four of you at some point within the next week.”

“I look forward to it.” She beamed and this time, Zuko spoke in unison with her.

“Now. I won’t keep you much longer—I wish I could, actually, but I see my sisters staring me down.”

She paused for a moment, her eyes widening. “Master Piandao, about your mother—”

“Goodbye, Princess Azula,” He said, walking away from her with a light smile on his lips.

Agni damn him to the shadows.

She crossed her arms and grumbled as Zuko laughed at her.

“I told you.”

“Shut up.” She puffed her cheeks out as she strode toward Mai and Ty Lee purposefully. It was perhaps a little bit too early, theoretically she should be entertaining at least one more conversation, but she didn’t want to.

Stupid Master Piandao, even if she found him highly intelligent and respected him greatly.

“I think it’s my job as your brother to not shut up, but okay. Since it’s your birthday.”

Azula knew her friends well enough to anticipate the hug that Ty Lee immediately pulled her into, just as she knew them well enough to glance over to catch Mai shifting ever so slightly closer to her brother. And yet he still didn’t realize.

Though, she wasn’t yet sure if he even realized her had a crush on her. Possibly—her brother was dense, but nowhere near that dense. At least, she hoped.

“Happy birthday, Azula! Now you get to join me and Mai in being eleven!”

“Speak for yourself, Ty Lee,” Mai droned, the slightest hint of amusement in her tone for those that knew her. “My birthday’s only a few weeks from now.”

“Yeah, but you’re still eleven for now! Isn’t it a nice age?”

Azula found herself relaxing as Ty Lee pulled away. “I can’t say it feels any different from ten, but I think it’ll need to wait until I’ve experienced it for a little longer.”

“Eleven’s definitely a big year,” Zuko said, stroking his imaginary beard. Through why he imagined himself a beard like Uncle’s and not lie Father’s, Azula had no clue. “I almost died when eleven, then dad became Fire Lord. Though, I was already twelve when Kiyi was born.”

“Kiyumi—”

“You almost died!” Ty Lee gasped; her eyes wide as she stared at Zuko.

The two of them paused and exchanged a glance. They trusted their friends but…

Zuko waved his hand, shrugging. “It wasn’t that big of a deal.”

Killing the Fire Lord was treason. It was best not to tell anyone, especially not in public like this.

“Only you, Zuko,” Mai said in that disgustingly fond, almost exactly like her usual tone she got when she found something Zuko said cute or funny.

Ew.

Azula let out an exaggerated sigh. “Yes, yes, Zuko almost died when he was eleven. But he isn’t eleven anymore, and I am.”

“Yes, Azula, it’s your birthday, we got it.” Still, Mai was smiling and no longer focussed on her brother. She wanted them to get together, of course, but she didn’t want to deal with their ridiculous crushes on each other on her birthday.

“Then act like it. Honestly.”

There was a pause before they all burst into laughter. Ty Lee’s was the loudest, of course, but even Mai’s low, quiet laugh could be heard when she focussed. She snorted in the middle of her laughing, which only made them all laugh harder. It certainly wasn’t perfect to laugh so hard, so loud, to snort, but these were her friends. She didn’t need to be absolutely perfect with them.

Zuko nudged her until they found themselves in a slightly more secluded corner of the banquet hall, still within sight of their parents if they looked hard enough, but far enough that they wouldn’t be seen at first and the roar of noise from all the other partygoers was muffled slightly.

She leaned against the wall with Ty Lee as Mai leaned against her brother. “Is it considered appropriate for us to give you our gifts yet? The guards gave us trouble for trying to keep these—your father himself had to come and explicitly tell them we were allowed to keep them as your companions.”

“It was a real pain!” Ty Lee pouted. “Especially when I chi blocked that one guard that got too close and then they all drew their weapons.”

Azula blinked at them. Perhaps being with her friends wasn’t less stressful than being in the crowd of people. “What?”

“Don’t worry about it, your dad dealt with it.” Mai waved her hand. “It was pretty funny because he started flopping like a fish when the chi blocking had partially worn off but not completely.”

Zuko snickered as she pinched the bridge of her nose the way her father always did. It didn’t help.

“Here.” Mai smiled ever so slightly as she held out a bundle wrapped in dark orange fabric. She took it gingerly and unwrapped it, only for the orange fabric to reveal more, dark grey fabric instead. “It’s clothing, but its specially made for you. I got your mother to get the measurements from the palace seamstress, with added predictions for your growth. It has so many pockets for weaponry and other things that its not even funny, and it doesn’t have embroidery so it can be worn with basically anything.”

She smiled as she wrapped it back up and handed it to her brother, who for once didn’t complain at being used as a pack elephant-mule. “Thanks, Mai, really. You’re better at gifting than literally everyone else out there.”

Mai rolled her eyes. “Particularly my dad. Even my mom told him not to—and she normally doesn’t argue with him in my hearing—but he still went and got you rings as a gift.”

Zuko scrunched up his face the way Azula desperately wanted to. “Rings? He does know she’s a firebender, right? Not just a firebender, but a powerful firebender. That’s practically an insult.”

“That’s what my mother told him, but he insisted and waved her off.” She huffed and crossed her arms.  “So sorry about that.”

Azula sighed and shrugged. What could she do about it? It was just another useless thing to collect dust in her jewellery box. “It’s fine, you tried. Your father should stick to his architecture and let you and your mother handle… everything else.”

Mai snickered quietly as Ty Lee pushed herself away from the wall. “I need to go get your gift, I left it with mama because I didn’t want to break it accidentally! I’ll be right back.” A moment later, she flipped onto her hands and sprinted—was it sprinting on your hands?—to her mothers, people readily parting the crowd for the upside-down girl.

“Why does she do that?” Zuko muttered, sneaking his arm around Mai’s shoulders as if Azula wouldn’t notice.

“I’m still not entirely sure,” Mai muttered back as Ty Lee returned, this time on her feet since her hands were occupied with a square, wooden box.

Azula took it with a smile, examining it first. It was wide, but relatively short. Perhaps Ty Lee had chosen to gift her some kind of painting or particularly fragile book that needed the encasement?

“Open it!” Ty Lee whined, hanging off of Mai’s side and staring at her with pleading eyes.

Her lips twitched upward as she conceded and unlatched the box, opening it. On a bed of black velvet lay a flower crown of carefully dried red and yellow camellia flowers, the type of drying that indicated either great patience or an immensely skilled firebender’s hand.

It was impractical, far too fragile for regular use, not that her usual hairstyle would allow it anyway.

And yet, she loved it.

Camellia—the very same plant used for the tea she drank, the oil in her hair, and the oil on her blade. With perhaps the exception of the fire lily, if only because of her mother’s plant, it was her favourite flower. The red and yellow, despite or perhaps because of being dulled by drying, would match anything she wore, or if she chose to display it instead, would fit well in her room.

“I adore it.” She said, taking it from the box and letting her brother take its encasement as she gently set the flower crown atop her head. “Thank you, truly.”

Ty Lee’s smile could’ve lit up the room, nonbender status or no. “Aw, thanks Azula! See, Mai, I told you she’d like it!”

“I never denied that Ty Lee, I just asked why we had to pick three dozen flowers. You didn’t end up using half of them!”

“Backups!” Ty Lee said brightly, but Azula couldn’t help but stare at the man that approached them.

“Ahem.” He looked about a decade older than her uncle—nowhere near the oldest military man there was, which he doubtlessly was given the way he held himself. “Happy birthday, Princess Azula, of course. Now, may I steal young Mai away from you?”

Who was he to—

She paused as she looked at Mai. The man shared few similarities with her friend, but everyone knew Mai looked far more like Michi than Ukano. And that glossy black hair was distinctive.

“Of course, General Takeda.” She inclined her head, smiling. “Who am I to deny you a conversation with your granddaughter?”

He hummed, his eyes narrowing as he stared at her for a moment before waving a hand and walking off with no further prompting. Mai paused and glanced back at her, giving a short farewell before following.

Part of her wanted to wait for her friend, to ask what General Takeda—known for his military prowess and high expectations of his men and doubtlessly his family—wanted with her, but she could see the way the crowd had already thinned. By the time Mai finished with her grandfather, it would be long past dessert and thus time for her to leave anyway. Mai knew that; there was a reason she had said goodbye.

“Will she be okay?” Zuko muttered, leaning close to her as they walked, Ty Lee trailing behind, back toward the main table for dessert.

“Not everyone’s grandparents are like ours, Zuko.” She said, though her eyes still darted toward the door. Perhaps she could send Zuko to go check on her? He was better at remaining unseen, and she was more likely to be noticed leaving her own birthday celebration before it ended.

He huffed as they stopped a few feet away from the gaggle that was Ty Lee’s siblings. The girl threw her arms around them both and squeezed them into a hug. “I’ll see you guys soon, okay? I want to go see who Ty Woo insulted this time!”

Azula found herself smiling as she watched the girl flip back to walking on her hands before continuing on her way back to their table. The daifuku were calling her name, and she had to eat a few extra for Lu Ten. It was tradition for them to try and eat as many as the years of their life, but since he wasn’t around to eat twenty-three on his birthday, she’d just do it for him on hers. It was a few months late, but not by many.

She seated herself once again, noting the absence of her mother and sister. Given Kiyumi’s age, that wasn’t all the surprising and it was more than socially acceptable. She reached out to start counting the daifuku to pile onto her plate as she saw her brother pull all three dango off the stick at once.

She would call him uncouth, but it definitely wasn’t proper to have twenty-three daifuku piled onto your plate, even if it was your birthday.

She took a bite out of her first one and licked her lips. Apricot.

Fifteen daifuku later, Azula admit defeat and leaned back in her chair. All but the very last few people had left, among those the Xu hoard, with Ty Lee’s mother notably trying to corral them out as her mama did nothing but sit and laugh. Both Lady Xus were good friends on her mother, though apparently her mother had grown up with Ireshi on Hira’a and had only met Ty Min when she had started courting her father.

Her brother, too, seemed to have exhausted himself from sweets, a dango stick with one remaining dumpling ball remaining sitting on his plate.

“You’re ridiculous, brother.”

“You have eight daifuku left on your plate, sister, I wouldn’t talk if I were you.” And yet, his eyes didn’t even open as he spoke, which was mildly comical and spoke impressively of his observational skills.

“You two are both ridiculous.” Their father said as he finished his glass of wine, his lips twitching. “Now, come along. There’s two last people you should meet.”

She looked at her father, hoping it was convincing enough to allow her to just go to her room and collapse onto her bed—after showing the gifts onto the floor—but it wasn’t. Instead, he just nudged them both up, a smile on his face as he led them out of the room and left Uncle to persuade the remainder of the guests to leave.

Azula had never realized just how skilled he was at manipulation until she had seen him talk a group of assassins into kneeling before her father and waiting for their arrest with bowed heads.

Not a flame had been lit.

She leaned against Zuko and let him wrap an arm around her shouldn’t without even a thought of complaint about his height. Apparently, it could be convenient at times.

Their father pushed open the door to the family sitting room—why were the guests in the family sitting room?—and nudged them inside. “I apologize, Rina, Jinzuk, they’ve gorged themselves on sweets, it seems.”

“Nonsense,” The old woman, and she was truly ancient, said, her eyes crinkling even more as she smiled at them. To one side sat an old man, likely Jinzuk, but on her other sat her mother with Kiyumi in her arms.

There were tear tracks on her mother’s cheeks.

Azula straightened up and narrowed her eyes. Her father seemed to welcome and respect these people, but her mother had been crying.

And yet she also seemed to be smiling?

“They are children, and it is Azula’s birthday. Why shouldn’t they help themselves to so many sweets they can do nothing but sleep it off.” She looked at Azula and tilted her head slightly. “Of course, I get the feeling you haven’t explained who we are to your children, have you, Ozai.”

The royal family had no other branches she could possibly be from, and yet she referred to her father by name.

“Well—"

Zuko froze and stood straighter. He must’ve figured it out, the daifuku were clearly slowing her thinking if her figured it out before her.

Her eyes flicked back to her mother, then the old woman.

It couldn’t be.

“My name is Rina, dear. I’m Ursa’s mother, and this silent oaf beside me is Ursa’s father, Jinzuk.”

Her grandparents.

Zuko’s stiffness made even more sense, then.

They didn’t have the best track record with grandparents.

Chapter Text

Mai was not a girl that was easily cowed. Her mother was Kaneko Michi, the top of her class every year she was in the Royal Academy, advisor to the Fire Lord (though, that was kept mostly a secret), and overall a woman that expected perfection in her daughter as much as she expected perfection in herself. Her was best friends with Princess Azula and Prince Zuko—the perfect royal children. And yet, she never bowed her head, and she did not need to.

But General Tadeka was a complete other matter.

She has heard a lot about her paternal grandfather. About how he was an honourable military leader who had taken large swaths of the northwestern Earth Kingdom with minimal casualties to both their own and the Earth Kingdom population. How he had regularly checked on his conquered areas to weed out corruption.

But that was all from school.

Mai had heard very little about her grandfather from her mother, and even less from her father. And, aside from her birth apparently, where her grandfather approved of her name, she had never even met him.

And now she was alone in a side corridor, the man’s hands clasped behind his back as he examined her with searching obsidian eyes, so different from both her parents and her own gold. But she had his hair, it seemed. She had wondered where she got it, given her mother’s lighter and her fathers darker brown.

It told something for his skill, or lack thereof, as a family man that Mai could not remember meeting him and her father spoke so rarely of him.

And it spoke something of his personality that even in his seventies he preferred to remain a general and allow his son to hold the mantle of Lord Takeda.

“You are the picture of your mother’s daughter,” The General eventually spoke, conceding the battle of wills that was their silence. Mai was well practiced, after all. She bristled internally at the words, for she never felt anything other than her mother’s disappointment if she spoke even one wrong word, made one wrong mood that did not capture the demure grace her mother wanted her to hold. “It’s not a bad thing, I suppose. I admit, I wish your mother had been my daughter, but then I never would have let your father marry into the family.”

That caused her to pause.

She knew her father’s relationship with his own was tense, of course it was. A military man, known for his battle prowess despite being a nonbender, with a son who was privately known to be sick at the sight of blood. She had overheard enough conversations between her parents to know that her father would much rather just focus on his architecture but instead consulted with the military out of a sense of duty to his father.

And yet said father openly scorned him to her?

“Ukano is soft where Michi has always been hard, sharp. I blame myself, in part. I coddled him when he was younger, a sickly boy, though it went mostly away before Kantoku was old enough to remember. Then again, for that reason they suit each other well. He supported her in her hardest times, she does the same now.”

She was more than aware that her mother supported her father for it was all she ever heard. Be quiet, Mai, be careful, Mai. We must support your father’s political career; we must support the family’s future. Don’t be too frivolous with your spending, you never know when the money may run out, no matter how close you watch the finances.

Mai tucked her hands in her sleeves and discretely picked at the skin around her nails as she stared at the man. Be quiet, Mai. Make no indication that you disagree with his words. Be good, Mai.

Be quiet, Mai.

She so sorely wished to be back out there with her friends, where they laughed loudly without care.

“Perhaps you are less like your mother than I thought, you don’t have the temper she had when she was younger.” The man smirked as he produced a knife from the folds of his robes and begin to fiddle with it. “The very day I decided to bring her into the family, she cussed me out in the classiest way possible and left me feeling thoroughly humiliated. I’m rather proud we managed to snag her; I have no doubt she would’ve ended up Fire Lady if I hadn’t.”

Mai privately thought he was wrong. She had seen Fire Lady Ursa with her husband in private, there was no couple more loving and devoted to each other in the world.

She could only hope to one day—

Be quiet, Mai.

She drew in a slow breath.

“Of course, I have no doubt that you will make just as good a Fire Lady, Mai.” She stiffened, tearing off too large a piece of dry skin from her fingertips.

Doubtlessly it would start bleeding soon.

Be quiet, Mai.

Be quiet, Mai.

Hold your tongue. Your father holds the title of Lord Takeda, but the General is still the head of the family and could pass it to Uncle Kantoku with ease.

Be quiet, Mai.

“I have been keeping tabs on you, of course. You are, after all, my first, and thus far only, grandchild. Your friendship with Princess Azula is politically intelligent, but also seems to be genuine. You’re not first in your class, which I’m sure aggravates your mother given she beat even Prince Ozai, but you are no idiot. You’re in the top five, aren’t you?”

“In most classes,” She responded, with perhaps a touch of emotion in her tone. Too much, but any emotion was too much. Her academics were just another way she disappointed her mother, but it was easier to fix how she acted than the way she struggled to examine the literary texts they received in class.

He hummed, his eyes narrowing as he looked at her. “You know, it would be smartest politically for you to marry Prince Zuko. I’m certain neither of your parents would have an objection to it, and you already have rapport together.”

She gritted her teeth.

Be quiet—

“I don’t care about politics,” She hissed, her own eyes narrowed as she stared at him.

Her mother would be ashamed.

And yet, General Takeda smiled and straightened up, looking very self-satisfied.

She had failed his test.

That was the only explanation for his reaction.

Her fingers smeared the blood that welled up atop her cuticle.

“So, it is genuine then. I was wondering.” He stowed the knife back within his robes and walked closer to her. “Piandao had said as such, of course, but I personally believe it’s foolish to believe anyone wholly. Particularly with that man’s mother.”

Her neck craned as she looked up at him. She was tall for her age—taller than both Zuko and Azula, even, but bother her parents were tall and it was clear where her father had gotten it from.

“And I was right about you being like your mother, you just hide your temper so much better than her.”

Then, he was kneeling on the ground about a foot from her and she had to look down at him.

“Sit with me, Mai, I would like to talk as grandfather and granddaughter rather than… General and young Lady Takeda.”

She hesitated, then pulled her hands from her robes as she sat on the floor. It was improper, the both the mere act of sitting on the floor and the way she was sitting, but she didn’t care.

Her heart was racing.

“You are my only grandchild, Mai, but your father was unremarkable, and I can’t say I agree with the way your mother had chosen to raise you, though I have held my tongue after she gave me a thorough tongue lashing when you were but a young girl. She’s correct in saying that I didn’t raise my children all that well either. Imagine my surprise, then, when Captain Piandao brings you up while we take tea together.”

Piandao wasn’t a captain anymore, he hadn’t been in the military for many years, and he expressed his hatred for his rank.

Somehow, it didn’t surprise Mai that her grandfather chose to use it anyway.

“You may be only in the top five of your class at the Academy, but he describes you as one of the brightest students he’s ever had—bright enough that he knows he can’t teach you much further with his abilities. He’s amazing with a sword, of course, but you inherited more of me than either of your parents would like to admit.” His eyes were keen as he grinned and tilted his head. “Just how many throwing knives do you have on you right now, my dear?”

She licked her lips. “Twenty.” Plus five. And a few things she wouldn’t exactly classify as knives—darts, perhaps.

“Is that a lie?”

“Yes.”

He burst into a laugh—loud and deep.

He sounded like her dad.

She found herself smiling slightly as he placed a hand on her shoulder. “Good girl.” He squeezed it gently.

Her mother was never so free with her praise.

“As I was saying, he doesn’t stop with the praise, but he knows he won’t be able to teach you much longer and suggested the Yuyan to me.” Her grandfather’s hand didn’t leave her shoulder and she leant into it slightly as she digested his words. The Yuyan were absolutely legendary—primarily for their archery abilities, yes, but they were also the best in the world at a number of other projectiles, including those she favoured.

She could only dream of approaching the level of one of the Yuyan.

To study under them?

It was more than a dream.

“And I agree. They don’t often take recruits from outside their clan, but they make exceptions in, well, exceptional cases. And you are exceptional.” The man paused. “But they demand anyone they take to have at least completed school and passed their National Exam. You understand?”

She understood, of course she did. And yet… “I don’t think my mother would allow it.” Her mother wanted her to support her father—that was all she ever wanted. Everything was about her father.

The General shook his head. “Your mother is more reasonable than you think. Besides, I am willing to go against her on this, and if she chooses to fight, well, I think this is a fight I’m more than able to win. You have true talent and skill, Mai, that talent deserves to flourish.”

She nodded hesitantly.

Perhaps this one thing didn’t have to be about her father.

He tapped the bottom of her chin. “Now. I can hear the party ending. Let’s go stuff your cheeks with some sweets and then I’ll return you to your parents. She won’t show it, but I’m sure your mother is worried about you right now.”

Mai didn’t quite believe it, but she took her grandfather’s hand, ignoring the smear of blood on her fingertips.

She could go for some sweets right now.

Azula stared at her grandmother.

Her grandmother stared back.

Her grandfather scoffed quietly and leant forward to grab his tea from the table. “This’ll take a while.”

Her grandmother sighed at her husband without breaking eye contact. It was minorly uncomfortable, but nothing Azula couldn’t deal with.

Her father sighed as well from behind her and nudged her and Zuko onto the couch opposite their grandparents and mother. “These grandparents have no desire to order Zuko’s death, sit down.”

“So… bets are still out on them ordering Azula’s death?” Zuko asked, pouring a cup of tea from the pot on the table and carefully slotting it into her hands as she continued to stare.

Why he thought he was funny, she wasn’t quite sure.

“They won’t be ordering Azula’s death, Zuko.” Their mother said with a long sigh.

“Kiyi’s?”

“Kiyumi’s,” She responded automatically as her grandmother blinked again. She allowed herself to blink shortly after—two to one wasn’t a bad ratio, all things considered.

“No, they will not be ordering Kiyi’s death either. Ozai, can I express just how much I hate your father?”

“You can do whatever you wish, dear, his ashes are well cooled.” Their father sat next to them and took his own cup of tea, sipping from it slowly.

“Azula, please stop staring so intently at your grandmother.” She could practically feel her mother’s frown.

Because she was a dutiful daughter, she looked away and sipped her tea.

“Why have we never met them before?” She asked instead, looking at her mother. Despite the fact that she had tear stains, she seemed relatively happy that her parents were there, so perhaps Azula could relax slightly. Father had never been happy around Grandfather.

“That was, yet again, my father’s fault.” Her father spoke from beside her as her mother frowned and shifted Kiyumi in her arms. “When your mother married into the family, he forbade any contact between her and members of her old life. We were able to get a few letters sent out, but it has been more than two decades since she’s seen anyone, including her parents.”

Ah.

That explained the tears, then.

“I see.” Azula straightened up, forming her hands into the flame. “It is an honour to meet you, then, grandmother, grandfather.” It wasn’t, not really, but she could act well enough, and it was her duty.

Rina hummed as she sipped her tea, her eyes sparkling. “You sound just like your mother when she got mad at your grandfather and I.”

That was enough to make her pause. She was compared to her father by nearly everyone—Lord Takeda, Ty Lee’s mothers, every noble and officer that met her. It was a point of pride to her, really. She loved her mother, but it was her father who taught her firebending, who ruled their nation without hesitation, who was the picture of royalty and strength.

(A small voice reminded her that it was her mother who had killed Fire Lord Azulon to protect her and Zuko. It was her mother whose hands carefully guided her as she made small batches of poison, “just in case”. Her mother was strong too.)

“Mother, could we not—”

A smirk that Azula recognized instantly curled across her grandmother’s lips—it wasn’t her own, no, Azula smirked like her father did because she had spent hours copying his expressions in the mirror as a child, but it was Zuko’s. It was the very same smirk her brother got when a nobleman fell for one of his pranks, or when he returned from sneaking around the palace with yet another piece of information to share with her. It was… familiar.

“I’m not wrong, dear. Whenever you would get mad, you’d insist on speaking to us so formally. It was always “yes, of course, mother” and “it is my duty to honour the family”.” Her grandmother’s smirk persisted as her grandfather let out a groan.

“Do you have a pai sho board, Ozai?”

“No.” Her father’s deadpan was particularly amusing when the fact that there was a pai sho board hanging on the wall a mere few feet away was taken into account. “Go ask Iroh.”

The old man grumbled quietly as he rose to his feet. Both her maternal grandparents were absolutely ancient, most certainly older than Fire Lord Azulon had been, and she had thought him to be one foot in the grave. “You’re the worst son-in-law I could possibly ask for.”

“You didn’t ask, Ursa did.” Her father rolled his eyes as he sipped his tea and reclined as Jinzuk walked over to the wall and lifted the pai sho board from it.

“Really, Azulon did.” Azula squeezed her brother’s hand at the mention of the former Fire Lord’s name as the old man nudged everyone’s cups to the side in order to place the board down. “The old man was obsessed with the possibility Rina’s bloodline could bring to the royal family—ridiculous, considering his hatred of you, but I suppose he considered Lu Ten a little bit too young anyway.”

“Good to know my father’s dislike of me was evident to even complete strangers.” Father sneered as she exchanged a glance with Zuko. Clearly, he had caught it as well.

“I had hoped to tell them when Zuko turned sixteen, father.” Her mother said, passing Kiyumi to her husband as she gave her father a glare. “That would then be the year of the comet, a good time.”

“Bah, I said next to nothing.”

“You don’t know them, father. I guarantee you they’re both already running through my lineage as far as they can—my children are not stupid.”

She was right, of course. Azula knew that her mother had been part of the Shimizu family before becoming royalty, but there was nothing notable about the family, really. A major noble house, yes, and clearly Rina’s rather than Jinzuk’s based on their attitudes alone, but there was nothing all that important about them. It was a bit odd that the main branch of the family chose to stay on Hira’a without having a representative in Caldera, but when the heir to the family was the Fire Lady it seemed useless.

Her mother’s parents were Rina and Jinzuk, who sat before her, the former watching as the latter set up the pai sho board in a truly odd fashion. Rina’s parents were Lady Ta Min (no relation to Lady Ty Min, Ty Lee’s mother and her own mother’s best friend) and…

“Zuko? Do you remember who mom’s maternal grandfather is?” She turned to her brother as Rina laughed.

“We stand corrected, Ursa. Your children are rather keen. I can answer you already that your brother will not remember, my dear, because my father, your great-grandfather, has been a rather closely guarded secret for many years.” The woman’s fingers tapped against the teacup. “Tell me, what do you know about Avatar Roku?”

“Roku?” Zuko’s eyes were wide as he leant forward.

“He was the last Fire Avatar, and the last confirmed, not to mention fully realized, Avatar. He…” What did she know about Avatar Roku? Her eyebrows furrowed. “He was…”

She should know more about the last Avatar.

“He was a traitor to the Nation.” She finally settled on. “He destroyed Fire Lord Sozin’s throne room. Your parentage is hidden because you are the daughter of a traitor—Fire Lord Azulon sought you out for the power a traitor’s blood could bring.”

Her tone was cold, and yet Rina just shrugged. “Perhaps. And yet, you do not know that Avatar Roku and Fire Lord Sozin had the same birthday and were the best of friends as children. You do not know that Avatar Roku met his wife, my mother, and that Fire Lady Mana met Sozin as my father’s companion while she was still a Kyoshi Warrior. You are smart, child, but you are just that. A child without life experience.”

It stung as though she had been hit.

She had never before been called… lacking.

“How dare you!” Her brother leant forward, his anger showing clearly on his expression. “You have no right—you’re the one that doesn’t know anything!”

The fires in the room were consuming far more oil than they should, what with the way they were blazing.

In all her life, Azula had never lost. Even when Zuko got something before her, they were a team. It wasn’t a loss, not truly.

She had just lost to a woman who looked like she was going to crumble to ash any second.

The fire died slightly and the room chilled.

“That’s enough, mother.” It was the same tone her mother used on her and Zuko when they went too far in a joke, when they risked badly hurting themselves or others. “Zuko, calm down.”

She had always thought her father to be a dragon, but perhaps her mother was too, airbender or not.

(Was that a cause of having the Avatar as her grandfather?)

(Could Azula have been an airbender herself? A waterbender? An earthbender?)

Her father remained silent, but his hand went to rest on Zuko’s shoulder—ready to hold him back, she knew.

She stared at her grandmother, who still had Zuko’s smirk dancing on her lips.

Azula had always thought that the royal side of the family had been dominant in her, as it tended to be. There was a reason she and Zuko were firebenders while their mother was an airbender. They looked like their mother in ways, but overall, they looked more like their father. Azula fashioned her expressions after her father’s, and the two of them copied his speech patterns as children.

And yet.

When Azula looked at this woman, old and frail and vicious, she could clearly see her blood in herself and her brother.

She could see the Avatar in them.

She wanted so badly to burn the whole room down around them.

Minutely shaking hands picked up her teacup and she took a sip.

“Then tell me.”

She didn’t know if she liked the woman, but they were too much alike for Azula to not understand her.

The woman smiled—something genuine, this time. So much like her mother’s—and produced a small fabric wrapped bundle from the folds of her robes.

The fabric fell away to reveal a hairpiece that had been missing for over a hundred years.

“Let me tell you about the Fire Lord and the Avatar—your great grandfathers.”