Chapter Text
Chapter 1: Luck
"Princess! Princess!"
Azula stood in the exact center of her room, eyes closed. She breathed.
The room was, as always, spotless, everything in its place. The bed with the gold head of a dragon inset into the canopy, the cabinets of finest wood, the decorated porcelain water pitcher on the nearby stand. It was larger than her old room in the villa out near the royal garden of course, where they had been forced to live before Father became Fire Lord. But the Fire Lord ruled from the palace and lived there, as did his immediate successors. Technically Father's heir was Zuko as the oldest—for now, at least.
Azula breathed in, as she slowly rotated one hand, then the other, spreading them out as far as they would go. Mimicking the fluid motion of one of her firebending instructors, only with greater precision. She drew her hands back in, folding them together, and lowered them, breathing out, completing the form.
At last she opened her eyes, letting her gaze slide to the servant, where the girl knelt before her, head to floor, waiting to be graced with her attention.
In the palace, Azula was always surrounded by people. Attendants for dressing, for caring for her skin and hair, for cleaning the rooms, for the washing, for bringing her tea and meals whenever she wished. Then there were her tutors, for history, military strategy, court etiquette, combat and firebending. Everything a princess of the Fire Nation needed to know.
After two years of training, she had seen great improvement. In the servants, that was. The tutors had been the most troublesome. Many thought that being a tutor entitled them to order her about like they thought they were her nannies. After Father had shipped a few of them off to the colonies, those that remained had learned the lesson well.
The servant waited, still bowed.
"Yes?" said Azula at last, allowing a hint of impatience to creep into her voice, a tone she always adopted whenever the servants intruded upon her meditation. Part of her training regimen for them, so that they would never be too comfortable interrupting her.
"Princess," said the girl again, head still down. "I—I have been charged to tell you—" She swallowed. "Your brother, the prince. He—has been challenged to an Agni Kai. The Fire Lord wishes for your presence in the arena, to serve as a witness."
Azula paused. An interesting development. To challenge a member of the royal family was no small matter, her fool of a brother must have managed to really offend someone important.
Excitement tingled at her fingertips. Technically she was not the direct heir to the throne, that right always went to the firstborn. But she had always expected Zuko would somehow manage to bungle that up, as he usually did. It was obvious to everyone that Azula had more potential in her little pinkie than her brother had in his entire being. This could well be the moment she had been waiting for.
Still, Azula kept the disinterested impatience in her voice as she asked, "Who? Who has challenged the prince?"
The girl remained on her knees, and she swallowed again. "The… The Fire Lord, Princess."
The girl spoke the words barely above a whisper, and even with Azula's lightning-quick comprehension it still took a moment for her to absorb their full meaning.
Father. Father had challenged Zuko to an Agni Kai. Father—
"I see," said Azula at last into the quiet. "You may go. If anyone asks, you may tell them I will be along shortly, as per the Fire Lord's will."
The girl, still bowed, clasped her hands together as though in thanks. She drew herself up to a crouch, then, still bowed, backed away, until she was out of the room. Only then did she raise herself up from the floor, and hurry away, like a mouse-fly from a flame.
Azula stared at the wall, where crimson cloth hung over decorated gold inlays.
Father, facing Zuko in an Agni Kai. She'd always assumed Father would find a way to remove him from the succession somehow—that day when Grandfather had ordered Zuko be gotten rid of, Father had been ready to do it. Zuko had never been good for much, except perhaps following tutor instructions to the finest detail like a trained dog-sheep, and defending the likes of fat Uncle Iroh even in his pathetically sad failure at the Earth Kingdom's stronghold of Ba Sing Se. However, she had never expected it to be this soon. It was…
Azula shook herself, then checked her appearance in the mirror above her dresser. Perfect as always, her royal headpiece in its gold and crimson secured to her fanning topknot, her lipstick applied without so much as a hint out of place. No doubt Mother would have told her that an eleven-year-old was too young for makeup. But, Mother was gone. Unable to send her to her room or nag her about listening to her tutors.
Smiling to herself, and sweeping one last look at her ever immaculate surroundings, she turned for the door.
The entrance to the arena was crowded with throngs of people filing silently inside.
She recognized all the highest ranking generals of the Fire Nation army, along with other important nobles accompanied by their servants. Amid them she spotted Uncle, his face downcast. It still amazed Azula that anyone would have ever made the man a general; he had none of the noble grace and poise of their father. He was just a sentimental tea-loving fool, a fool who had failed both the war, and the Fire Nation.
Not far from the arena entrance, two guards stood next to a small cloth door. Azula approached.
The guards both bowed deeply. "Princess," one murmured.
"I would like a few words with my brother," said Azula.
A bead of sweat formed on the guard's brow. "I—apologize greatly, Princess, but the custom before an Agni Kai—"
"I would like to speak with my brother," Azula said again. She didn't raise her voice, or change her tone. Instead, she just looked at him.
He hesitated. "...Yes, Princess. Of course." After another moment, he stepped aside.
The room where combatants of a formal Agni Kai were held was empty of all decoration, but for a single candle in the corner, and a plain mat on the floor for meditation. There would be another room exactly like it coming off the arena on the opposite side, where Father would now be waiting, also readying himself for the contest. As though he needed any preparation.
Zuko stood on the mat rather than sit, his back to her, staring at the far wall in front of him. He wore no shirt, as was custom for an Agni Kai between men, and the exact shape of his shoulder blades was visible in the flickering candlelight, the knobs of his spine standing out like the ridges on the edge of a baby turtle duck shell. She wondered if he knew how sad and small he looked—probably not. He had never been that self-aware.
"Well," said Azula at last. "It would seem you've managed to get yourself into a rather prickly situation, Zuzu. As usual."
Zuko spun. His face betrayed no ashen paleness, no terror, as might have been expected of one so foolish as to find himself facing the Fire Lord. Instead, his eyes blazed bright with fierce determination.
His eyebrows sank in a scowl. "Azula. You're not supposed to be in here."
Azula checked her nails, pinching a piece of imaginary lint and rubbing it between her fingers. "No, I'm not," she said airily. "I just thought my big brother could use some support—given what an idiot he apparently is."
Zuko raised a clenched fist. "I'm not afraid," he declared. "I stand behind what I said. That general was out of line, someone needed to stand up for those soldiers. It's a matter of honor, for us, for the Fire Nation. I'm going to show him the strength of the royal family."
Azula's fingers stopped. She glanced up, though Zuko was no longer looking at her, instead his eyes on the candle. Watching it, with righteous strength, the golden flame reflected in his eyes.
Zuko didn't know. Somehow, he had gotten the wrong idea. He didn't realize he would be facing Father.
Azula opened her mouth, the mocking laugh already on her lips—but then she stopped.
Zuko had never impressed her. Near as she could tell he spent most of his time stumbling through the world, a step behind her. And yet, in this moment, his eyes sparking and ready for a fight, standing tall, there was almost a regalness about him she had never noticed before. And she could almost see it. The Fire Lord he could become.
For Father to challenge Zuko to an Agni Kai now, it should be everything she wanted, what she had been waiting for. But, if she was being perfectly honest with herself, something in it unnerved her. It was too soon. What if instead this was meant as a test, a test for Zuko to finally prove himself worthy. If Zuko did well, demonstrated all the qualities Father most prized, Father might decide he liked Zuko after all. And then Zuko might just become his favorite.
Father had always loved Azula best, because she was just so much better than Zuko. But a flame took constant tending to assume the desired shape and size, that was the nature of fire. Ever changing, only as reliable as the control one exerted over it. To be the favorite, she had to keep being better than Zuko. This fight could well ruin Zuko, but it could also set him on a path for greatness. And so lose her everything she wanted, everything she deserved.
She held back the taunting words she had been about to say, about Father, about the fight. Instead she said simply, "Well, I only came to wish you luck, Zuzu. The very best of luck."
She turned then. Zuko's grumbles of how he didn't need luck faded behind her as she stepped through the cloth back outside. She breathed—a wall torch above flickered uncertainly, before it went still again. Then she turned on her heel, and approached the arena, joining with all the other onlookers to the coming spectacle.