Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Izumi watched him walk out the door; a very fancy door might she add.

When you are a princess, everything you own is regal and ornate. The palace she lives in was older than she could truly count, but not a speck of rust was anywhere to be found. The halls were dark marble and walls inlaid with gold. The ceilings were crimson and even their rugs lacked a certain aspect of cheer. For most kids, she assumes they would find living in such a place rather spooky, but she feels right at home. Whether that was because it suited her or it was simply how she was raised is still up in the air though.

Every piece of furniture was an ancient heirloom from one previous firelord or another; someone’s memories around every corner from all the royals that grew up and died here. The only royal she cared about right now though was her father. 

Izumi was no stranger to her father having to make a quick getaway in the middle of the night, or day, or evening, or afternoon. He’d done so her whole life, she’d never known a time where her days were any different. When he left for Fire Nation business, that was easier because he didn’t even have to leave the palace usually. When it was Team Avatar problems, those were the hard excuses. She couldn’t be upset at her dad for going out and making the world a better place, saving people, protecting the earth, keeping balance within the world. However, at eight years old, she still couldn’t quite contain how much it ached to see him go.

“He always comes back.” The raven-haired princess reminded herself at a whisper, the sound of her voice making her remember how much she had rehearsed it before.

Without warning, a pair of bony hands deftly eased the tension in her shoulders, feeling them rub down her arms like a blanket of security. She didn’t need to see or hear their voice to know who those hands belonged to. She’d never gone a day without them around her. “Yes, he does.” The flat tone of her mother anchored her to where she was standing in the middle of the entrance hall after having just watched her father’s back disappear down the steps, her wistful orbs not blinking once until she saw him fly off into the horizon on his graceful dragon. “Your father is a lot of things, but he’s not a liar.” The woman then laid her chin atop her daughter’s shoulder, her tune turning dulcet - the way she suspected her child needed them to be.

The pale girl nodded astutely, taking a handful of deep breaths to gather her wits about her, the way she was taught. When she was even younger than she is now, the firebender was prone to tiny explosions of rage. She tried as hard as she could, but she was not a very patient person; no she had unfortunately inherited her father’s short temper at full force. She’s been working on it though and right now; those lessons were the only thing stopping her from catching after him with miniature fists of fire.

Trying to think about what she could do to pass the time, knowing full well she would not be able to go to bed until both her parents were there to tuck her back in, Izumi had resigned herself to staying right there in that corridor waiting for him to return. It again, wouldn’t be the first time she had done so. Before she could sit down however, the palms warming her arms through her rouge-colored nightgown tightened their grip on her and pulled the girl up. All forty-five pounds of her were lifted and turned slowly until Izumi found herself being cradled to her mother’s chest. While she didn’t say anything on the subject, Izumi was grateful for the gesture and even more so that she didn’t have to ask for it, she doubts she would have on her own; not when she was so busy worrying about the Firelord.

Instead, the young one hoped that her mother understood her message as she wrapped her arms around the older woman’s neck in abandon. Still, Izumi didn’t look away from the grand - now closed - door until they rounded a corner, and it too was gone from her line of sight. She didn’t have to wonder where they were headed, because soon they were approaching what had eventually become their spot. It was outside in the courtyard across from the big tree. Under what wasn’t a very starry night, mother and daughter sat down on the edge of the royal fountain, surrounded by the sound of cricket-hoppers chirping like they were singing in a choir.

The fountain was where they went when Izumi’s dad went off to fight. It was as good a place as any; it had fresh air, the background splashing of the fountain flowing down, and - especially at this unspirited hour - isolated enough where they don’t have to don a mask around anyone. Not only that, but it was conveniently the spot her mother already gravitated to when this sort of thing would happen before Izumi came into the picture, or so she’s told, she supposed she wouldn’t actually know.

Why did the Fire Lady come here to fret about her husband, one might ask? Well, again, Izumi only had the declarations of others to take from, but the way she hears it - it was a place that held sentimental childhood memories for both her parents together.

That was years and years ago though, currently, Izumi was using the very fountain to distract herself from counting the minutes until her father arrives back home - injury free if she had it her way. “So, I know you're looking for things to take your mind off the waiting game. How about you tell me about one of the books you’ve been hopelessly attached to?” Her hands fell from her back to her tailbone, wordlessly opening her russet robe to let Izumi’s smaller frame huddle inside as she spoke.

It was true that Izumi reads, a lot. It was her favorite thing to do alone. Admittedly, she can hear herself think when she reads with others nearby. Therefore, reading had been deemed her independent hour, not even her parents bother her when she has her nose stuck two hundred pages into a new book. The princess took a minute or two to consider which to divulge, all she could drum up for her impassive mother was a sigh paired with a tired shake of her head. “None of them are worth it, it won’t work. C-Can you tell me another story?” 

The non-bender didn’t laugh, that was a rare occasion even behind closed doors, but being so close allowed Izumi to hear her lips spreading into a smirk above her. “Oh, but which shall I tell?” A rhetorical question that came out too monotone to be considered sarcastic already began blurring the reason behind the need for a story in the first place.

Most people don’t know this, but Mai is actually a talented storyteller. She may not be as enthusiastic as Izumi’s Uncle Aang or as animated as Uncle Sokka, but she has her own gifts. Perhaps it was her attention to detail, her ability to set the scene in a manner so accurate that it ends up settling deeper into her bones. Or maybe it was her indifferent air that sent chills down her spine and made everything seem so much more near as though it were happening right before her. Izumi could never get enough of them.

“A new one; I know there’s more.” The introverted girl exclaimed at a mumble. Normally, she’s taught not to murmur, but in this quiet moment alone with her mom, that was the last thing on either of their minds. 

There was a long collected sigh that blew hot air on the top of Izumi’s hair, pushing the tiny wisps of her jet-black roots sideways. Her mother always did that before a story, to gather her thoughts she said. “Alright, alright. Here we go.” She started coolly, crossing her legs and improving her grip around her daughter gradually, as though she were afraid of Izumi running away to fight with her father. “You know Father’s council friends, right? Once, in your father’s second year as Firelord, they invited him to this gathering and your dad prepared all day and night for nearly a week. He was determined to not make a fool of himself, to be the smartest person in that room. At the time, he and the council were still on rocky footing, but when he got there, he realized that the gathering was actually a celebration for the anniversary of his coronation.” 

Izumi, though remaining as composed as she could, couldn’t stop the slight snicker that eluded from her mouth. It wasn’t very hard to imagine her father in a situation with a surprised and regretful look on his face. Even after however long he’s been the leader of their country, parties were still not precisely his forte; yet another thing Izumi got from him. “Funny, is it?” Mai placidly retorted, the only signs of her amusement at the story being the clenching of her jaw as she resists from chuckling that Izumi could feel against her forehead. “I was told by a credible source that he tried to avoid everyone for the first hour.” The woman of little words blandly put, but her lack of mischief only painted a better picture for Izumi to feel what her father was likely thinking at the time.

All that was going around in Izumi’s head were flashes of her serious father walking away from every guest that tried to greet him; not exactly a new scenario for him either. “What did he do?” The growing child canvassed eagerly, her dad’s trip to the Northern Sea pushed to the backburner now.

Her mom’s silence was filled with the rhythm of her heart beating on the other side of Izumi’s ear, settling the princess in a familiar manner without fully comprehending the effect it had on her. She patiently awaited her reply, satisfied and keen with their meager banter. So much of Izumi’s day was recently filled with lessons on how to be a princess and while Izumi had always been quite studious, it was these moments with her parents that truly made her day. “He pardoned himself and brought Uncle Iroh back with him. The two of them talked the council’s ears off the rest of the night about tea and the concert they were trying to set up to raise money for the capital compulsory school.” The wife shook her head, but she did so fondly. “He was lucky Iroh was there visiting in the first place. Between you and me, he would have been doomed otherwise.” The Fire Lady delivered dully, but Izumi could hear the hint of penchant in the base of her throat that told Izumi it was something she adored.

That was how it was with her mother; deciphering and searching for the vague little quirks that told her heart’s thoughts - not her words or facial expressions. They may be faint, but they were there, if you knew where to look, where to dig.

Before either girl’s mind could wander too far thinking about their favorite guy, Izumi’s brows started to furrow and suddenly, she was left with even more questions. “That sounds like Father, but why did you pick that story?” The eight-year-old prodded innocently, constructing her voice in a way that translated curiosity and not judgment.

Where someone else might have gotten minorly offended or asked if she wished to hear a different tale, Mai merely leaned back on her hands and let her head roll back to a spot of comfort like water down a turtle-duck’s back. “I like it.”

“You weren’t even there.”

“No.”

“So what’s special about it?”

To this the thirty-two-year-old simply shrugged. “It describes your father perfectly. Some things never change.” It was all she said, her confession tolerant and tepid, but nothing more needed to be said. Did she need a better reason? Izumi knew as well as anyone how much one can grow attached to such a mundane and insignificant story; she had plenty - one of the perks of getting a bedtime story every night.

Deep down, Izumi knew reality and logic didn’t work this way, but from the second she’d said it, the firebender could ponder nothing else. Incapable of keeping it in for long, her young brain and body depending on the reassurance more than what was reasonable, Izumi lightly pushed her head off of her mom’s chest and stared the older woman in her coffee-colored eyes, needing. “Like Father always coming back?” It was only a half-statement, but from the way her mother’s gaze soberly centered on her daughter, Izumi wagered she got her meaning across.

Gold met cedar in a timeless moment of wonder, consideration. Izumi put her hopes into her mother’s hands, fragile and only half-built, but she’d always done that. Her and her father were the only two people she could trust with it unconditionally, even at only eight years old she knew that. Finally, Mai let out a huff through her nose, the motion a little suffocated but temperate if nothing else as she ripped her orbs away from Izumi and took an unsuspecting glance up at the night sky. “Well, hoshi, he hasn’t let us down so far. Has he?” She tenderly affirmed with all the conviction she could give, her hands tucking Izumi’s side part behind her ear the way all mothers do.

The fire princess let out a breath she hadn’t known she was holding, feeling allayed and confident in her mother’s words because well, Mai never said anything she didn’t mean. If that wasn’t enough, the use of Mai’s special nickname for her daughter was only ever brought out in carefully considered moments; otherwise, she wasn’t a big fan in terms of endearment. Even simply hearing her say it mollified the girl remarkably. Most people figured she called her star because she admired the bright lights in the sky, but Izumi predicts it had more to do with her prized shurikens. 

The duo ended the night with Izumi getting softly rocked to sleep in her mother’s arms, no more words or stories or questions exchanged between them; just the night’s warm breeze and the silk of their nightgowns to lull them into amenity. Izumi recalls her eyelids falling gently closed with her mother’s pensive words repeated in her head for contentment. Despite them being level and drab, they made Izumi feel serene and soothed; they always did. She didn’t know if that was because she’d only heard her talk that way all her life, or if it had something to do with Izumi’s reserved nature sometimes mirroring her mother’s, but she didn’t care as long as it worked. 

Thankfully, when the sunlight cast its rays through the regal curtains beside her, Izumi awoke in her parents’ bed. She didn’t remember being carried inside, but this wouldn’t be the first time she’d been tired enough not to stir. Once the messy haired girl could focus and her senses returned from sleep, Izumi found not one, but two pairs of arms wrapped around her dotingly. It was still early in the morning, so both of them being in the middle of slumber wasn’t abnormal, and it took all Izumi had not to wake them up with zealous embraces while she shouted their names sweetly. 

Rather, the short royal headed down the hall into her room to bring back one of the books she’d been in the middle of and readjusted back to lay sandwiched in between her pale and restful parents with a kiss on both their cheeks. 

There would be time for relieved notions and inquisitive questions later, but for now, this was all Izumi needed and it was worth more than any heirloom they had in this entire palace.

Chapter Text

Izumi felt like face planting her forehead into her book. 

Izumi was the perfect princess. She had to be; she had the newly restored but still dubious reputation of the Fire Nation to nurture and maintain. Her father and mother and uncle worked very hard to achieve peace and balance, to show the world that they had nothing more to fear from the Fire Nation. Globally, there were still a great many people who were weary and they had every right to be. Her country decimated the entire earth for one hundred years. If the roles were reversed, Izumi would like to say she’d be more open-minded, but she was already too smart to promise such a reaction.

Ever since she was seven, she was brought up to the best of the Fire Nation’s ability, an education fit for a princess to be sure. She wasn’t just taught about her nation however; she was rehearsed in the matters and cultures of her ally nations. If that weren’t enough, her father made a vow to not shy away from the brutality and wrongdoing of their predecessors in hopes of shaping a young woman to pass the torch off to and be a guiding light for prosperity between all the nations. Some might say that was a lot to put on a child, but it was what she was born for.

It was her duty and her honor.

She wasn’t perfect, she isn’t even a teenager yet, but she was proud of the fact that she exceeded her tutors’ expectations. She knew how to formally and respectfully greet members of other nations, especially political figures. She knew what to talk to them about outside of legislative conversation. She didn’t speak out without reason, without having earned it. Izumi stood up straight, could walk elegantly in her robes and balance her headpiece atop her head without it slipping through her hair. She knew six dancing forms, was well versed in international holidays, and could give a dissertation on any dilemma currently going on in any part of the Fire Nation. The girl no longer grew angry in public or even acted her age, but the latter was something that came instinctually to her. 

After all, most kids would rather not spend their time in the library, even one as grand and boundless as the royal one inside the Fire palace. 

Which brought her to her recent predicament.

Given her reclusive habits, the fact that her only friends were her cousins, and that she only talks to kids her age in academic settings, her parents encouraged her to go to this event after school. Well, her father suggested she try it out, but her mother merely nodded in agreement as she sharpened her throwing arrows with one of her knives; it is well known not to leave her liable to anything she says when she’s busy doing such activities. 

Izumi was a good sport however and could admit that there was something to be had in bettering her social skills and making connections. Her parents might not have ever met if Izumi’s Aunt Azula never befriended her mother at school anyhow. What was the worst that could happen right? 

The princess doesn’t ask herself that question anymore.

Have you ever seen a member of the royal family single handedly ruin an entire float in one fell swoop? For centuries, Izumi is sure the answer to that question would have been a resounding no, but if you were her at junior high after school parade preparation today, then you’d belong to a special few. Not only was it unbecoming of a princess, but it was unbearably mortifying to have everyone’s eyes on her when she ran out of the courtyard swallowing the tears in her eyes. She was starting to think it was a safety hazard to leave her in pre-teen situations unattended. She knows her peers likely think the same after earlier.

The ink black haired girl darted straight home before anyone could utter a word of it. Nevermind the fact that she hasn’t so much as jogged through the halls of the palace since she was eight, Izumi didn’t care about decorum right now. She took the long way around to her bedchambers to avoid having to face her parents and explain to them what went horribly wrong. The eleven-year-old wouldn’t permit herself to wallow about it, draining her tears as swiftly as she was able, but it didn’t prevent her mind from racing; obsessed with reliving that unseemly moment over and over again in her head.

It took less than an hour of self-induced isolation before there was a knock at her door. In her normal state, Izumi would have noticed that it wasn’t the sort of knock that belonged to her parents or any of the palace’s servants, but in her disconcerting manner, Izumi hardly paid the sound any mind. “Not this moment!” She hollered as gracefully as she could manage, but even to her own ears it sounded shaky. 

If it were maids or other, Izumi would have anticipated a silent retreat and if it were her parents at her door, the pale child figured some contest to be made, but neither of those occurred. What Izumi hadn’t expected was for her surprise guest to ignore her plea and barge directly inside. Indeed, that’s what happened when Izumi turned her head to politely insist her intruder withdraw from her chambers, and what she found caught the words of the tip of her tongue.

In the flesh was her cousin and best friend. The former of the pair slithered inside like she was on a secret mission, evaluating the scene before her with her coined intrigued expression lighting up her features. The latter marched in like it was her own quarters, entirely unabashed and misreading Izumi’s argument as a welcome. Even after ten years of friendship, Izumi still could not interpret this behavior as purposeful or instinct, but she presumed it didn’t matter. There was no hope of changing that, Izumi learned this a few years ago.

“Iz, Iz, Iz, this is so out of character.” Hua announced during her entrance, arms extended out wide and head shaking from side to side in faux disapproval. 

This earned the boisterous non-bender an eye roll from Izumi’s paternal cousin, Hisa. The firebender licked her lips before approaching her elder cousin with a huff that told Izumi that she had been on the receiving end of all Hua’s grandeur the entire stroll here. Spirits know they love Hua, but she was a handful on her best days. She’s just glad she’s never been in the same room as Hua and Kya at the same time; for the good of all, perhaps it's best they aren’t alone together.

Quite frankly, it might have been a small miracle they made it over to her without a quarrel breaking out in the process, they are opposites in many ways, but they both are inept at keeping their opinions to themselves. “There’s no use telling us to leave, we won’t. We heard about what happened.” Azula’s only child proclared mildly, already evidence of exasperation poking out from the base of her throat.

“Already?!” Izumi didn’t even think before hollering, making the heir cringe even more once her outrage caught up to her ears. 

Without even giving her friends time to reply, Izumi buried her head in her favorite book, hoping to hide from this chat at all costs even if she knew there was no point. “In fairness Zuzu, we got there really soon after you left.” Hisa’s effort to make her feel better was noted, but not quite effective. 

All it did was make Izumi sink further into her ottoman. “We thought you might want some company.” Hua nonchalantly replied as if she didn’t truly see the issue with her debacle, but she always claimed moral support was one of her best features.

The golden orbed girl shook her head at her friends, the trio listening to what she had to say as intently as two ten and one eleven-year-old could. “What makes you think I want more attention after that spectacle?” Her adolescent voice cracked as she urged them, her young temper that she figured she’d mastered turning its ugly head back around little by little.

To this, Hua began petting her braid prettily, giving her pal a friendly shrug in return, the image reminiscent of her acrobat mother almost to a tee. “Okay so maybe we knew you would hate it, but also maybe you need it?” The ten-year-old beat around the bush, cautious to not attract the focus of her friend’s newborn unrest with a purse of her lips.

“If we didn’t come, you’d just be thinking about it for a week.” Hisa added rather matter of factly; the self-proclaimed people person nailing Izumi’s overthinking nature perfectly. 

The princess watched her nonbender friend walk around her room like a ballet dancer, twirling and humming as she waited for one of her two best friends continue. It was a habit that used to annoy Izumi, something she did whenever she was alone with the two other girls, but after hearing a story of what it was like living with two little brothers, she stopped stressing about it. Hisa on the other hand did the opposite of bouncing around and stretched out on Izumi’s bed like a black serow-cat. 

The floor was all hers.

Unfortunately, they were right. Izumi wasn’t too proud to say she had an issue with bottling things up, but there was a reason for that. After a few years, she’d gotten adequate at keeping the furor at bay, but after what happened today - knowing that everyone in school would know about their pathetic excuse of a princess by Monday - she was bound to explode, and they were asking for it. Seems only fair she gives them what they want, right? What else was she going to do with it? Burying it would only result in her friends wasting a trip to see her. That was a valid justification; she hoped.

After a few minutes of battling her passionate complaints, Izumi erupted in a sequence of forlorn puffs; if that didn’t bely her age - Izumi didn’t know what would. “It was so heinous! I know I used to be clumsy, but I thought I grew out of that by now! This is why I stay indoors!”

Hua chuckled immediately, unapologetically. “Used to be?” She giggled gleefully, even her laugh fading out into the air like a sing-song melody.

Before Izumi could scowl at her friend, Hisa rolled around on her stomach, resuming eye contact with her cousin; two pairs of golden irises trying to decode the other’s. “You’re not even a teenager, Zu. Just because you’re the princess doesn’t mean you’re perfect. There are a lot of things about you to keep practicing.” She lectured her cousin plainly, no malice to be had in such a report. If they were their parents, that might have lit an argument between the two, but it was a kind of banter that worked for them.

Getting Hisa to sugarcoat anything was a lost cause; Bumi would have more luck domesticating a hog-monkey before that happened. “But I should be, no matter how much Mother and Father tell me otherwise. Even if I’m simply at a school function, I need to be at my best. I was there to make friends and instead I made sure that no one would ever get within ten feet of me.” The monarch lamented her juvenile catastrophe as though it were a crisis in war; but to her it might as well have been.

This earned Izumi a teasing groan from the Kuge’s daughter, the way her guttural mock rumbled throughout the room was familiar enough to the youngster to no longer take offense to it anymore. “Ugh, Iz, maybe if you stopped saying things like school function, you’d sound less rigid. Who even says that anyway?” The noblewoman dropped her head into her hands almost wistfully, as if her friend’s lack of charisma had been a source of physical harm.

“I think you’re fixating on the wrong details, Hu!” Izumi asserted rather irritably despite how vigorously she attempted to put a cap over her rising chagrin. 

Izumi swore she was one minute away from shoving her face deep into her pillow and never emerging again.

Irately, Hisa finally shook her balled fists back to normal and faced both the arguing girls with flared nostrils slowly soothing. “Spirits, inhale or something would ya Zu.” Hisa barked at her cousin; not bothering to mask her ire at their current spat. It was something Izumi knew her aunt tells her all the time, and so does her own father when they are practicing their firebending. Hearing it only reminded Izumi of how childish she was being and persuaded her to placate herself as best she can. “What happened?” The fellow raven-haired girl palliatively added, her patience hanging on by a thread - a role that was usually Izumi’s job now turned against her.

Taking a quiet and pacifying glance at both her friends, the youthful royal gathered up a deep breath and shook her head as it dropped in her hands. She was being ridiculous. “It started fair when I arrived. People stared of course, but they always do as such. I made my way to a group by one of the finished structures and spoke to them about the history of the holiday the float is for; it seemed relevant given our activity. After a short while, they started playing some firebending games and asked me to join. Everyone knows I don’t firebend in public, especially not with flammable crafts nearby. I knew my dad wanted me to make friends though, so instead, I showed off the stilettos my mother taught me. Things were fine until one girl flinched when I was about to throw. I couldn’t stop the throw, but I managed to push it further right, but perhaps my nervous reaction threw off the force ration and the stiletto split right through the wooden beam.” The firebender tried not to murmur, but every second she spent reliving the disaster only made her face turn more and more red.

Having trouble continuing, there was a pause and Hua furrowed her brows in response, struggling to predict the cause and effect of the situation. “And? So you broke a beam, what’s the big whoop? How did that turn into you morphing into a blubbering mess?” There went Hua’s brutal honesty again, but watching Hisa elbow the girl in the side did admittedly make Izumi feel a little better.

Gritting her teeth, Izumi closed her golden orbs, her effort to avoid watching the looks on their faces as she finished her story. “I-I called off the game after that and was waving them goodbye. I made sure to look at them when I bid them farewell, eye contact is important after all, but I-I wasn’t looking where I was going and walked straight into a ladder. Turns out tha-that ladder was being used by this girl that was painting the top of the float and well, she fell right on top of the float and crushed everything on her way down to ruins. I-I stayed just long to make sure she was alright, but then I hail tailed out of there as quickly as I could while everybody just gaped at me slack jawed.” The stuttering girl confessed timidly, her face all scrunched in shame and fingers fiddling with her silk bed sheets like a squirrel toad in a komodo-rhino den.

Hisa started off their generous attempt at consoling her by saying, “You’re being so dramatic, Izumi.”, which is not something people usually call her; that was typically reserved for Hua. “The float wasn’t even damaged that badly, we saw it before we left.”

Then comes Hua with a resolved nod in agreement - an unlikelihood in of itself - as she analyzes the state of her freshly manicured nails; she was their best multitasker. “She’s right, Iz. You’re treating them like partisans! News flash, not all eleven-year-olds know anything about affairs of state! You just need to talk to them like you would us or your other cousins.” The ten-year-old was ecstatic as she recommended her advice, eyes going wide and smirk widening to a full out grin as though she’d just given Izumi the solution to all her problems.

All the pale preteen could find herself doing was sighing, massaging her temple to silence her growing headache. “I can’t do that, they’re family. I don’t have to be their princess with them or you. I can’t say the same for anyone else. This is the first time a member of the royal family attends an actual school rather than being tutored at the palace or sent to a private girls’ academy! I have to show them I’m capable. I’m not a normal girl with them, I can’t be.”

Under her breath, Izumi vaguely heard Hisa mumble something to herself accompanied by the lightly tanned girl running a hand through her hair and huff. “You put way too many barriers in your way, do you know that? If you insist on being formal around literally everyone, then try channeling your inner Hua or Hanae or Bumi, Su, Kya - whoever when you talk to them. Let your hair down a little?” Her little cousin theorized, still undecided, but lackadaisical about it. One might find it strange that the child of a perfectionist could be so casual, but Aunt Azula always said it was a blessing that her daughter inherited her father’s nerves - or lack thereof.

Again however, Izumi pinched the bridge of her nose and frustratedly clutched her satin pillow close to her chest in her lap. “You want me to act like them? Really? I don’t know if you noticed, Hisa, but your list of people to imitate aren’t very composed individuals.” Her voice sounded too dry to be sarcastic, Izumi almost wondered if her mother had entered her room. She didn’t mean to sound irked with her friends, but she really needed a way to fix this.

“That is precisely my point, Zuzu.” The noise of her hand falling to clap onto her thigh entranced both the other girls in the room, Hisa now calmly out of breath and fed up with her surplus of excuses.

Eventually, Hua crisscrosses her legs - a sign that she means business - and grabs Izumi’s hands deftly in hers before centering the princess’ thoughts back on the three of them and not her accident. “What about this: treat socializing like an assignment or a-a mission from one of your books. Be yourself, only less anxious!” She pitched the idea like it was as easy to do as it was to say. “That way you can be as serious as you want but feel better about being more normal. Normal people can be sticks in the mud too.”

Izumi didn’t give herself time to ponder her friend’s proposal before she playfully threw a pillow at Hua. Soon, Hisa erupted into a fit of giggles and within the minute, the trio filled the bedroom with sweet laughter. Once their glee had died down enough to hear herself think, Izumi ventured back to Hua’s guidance. Someone as popular and extroverted as she should know what she’s talking about, right? “Do-do you guys really think it’ll work?” She asked them bashfully, tilting her head at them with what her father calls baby sea raven eyes. 

The tone of her words spoke for themselves, and all accounts of mischief faded from her friends, aware that there was close to convincing her as they would likely ever get. “Well, you are just like Uncle Zuko, so maybe you’ll always be destined to be awkward, but it’s better than knocking people off of ladders again.” Her offhanded candor didn’t cut this time when it reached Izumi’s ears; the heir merely nodded to herself with comfort - Hisa’s integrity made her trustworthy so she believed her.

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door again. Twirling her head back, Izumi observed her parents entering her room; her mother’s hand around the back of her dad’s neck and his warmly pressed behind her back with poise. “Are any of you girls interested in supper?” The Firelord offered the jovial children benevolently, the way his eyes immediately found Izumi and how his smile solaced her more heartily told her that he knew she needed whatever reprieve they had given her. He didn’t say anything about it and Izumi knew he wouldn’t, but that was how they liked it, and it meant the world to her that he didn’t pressure it into the open either.

While Zuko then told Hua that her parents agreed to let her spend the night as long as she was up early to go back to Kyoshi early in the morning, Izumi also spotted the knowing quirk of her mother’s brow. It was more subtle than her father’s smirk but possessed the same charitable message. As much as they wished they were, the walls of the Fire palace weren’t soundproof and thinking about how loud they were, Izumi would wager the two adults overheard possibly half of their conversation, but the support and the tacit faith her parents gave her then overruled any humiliation she might have felt over it.

After all, Izumi thinks to herself as she joins her family and guests into the dining room, if her father could learn to make friends with his enemies, then she could make friends with innocent children.

She was only eleven, she had time. How hard could it be?

Chapter Text

The world was no longer at war. 

Izumi had never known a carnivorous world; a gift from being born after the conclusion of the Hundred Year War. Of course, everyone in her generation has heard the stories. There are a lot of people out there that love to talk about it; to scorn the Fire Nation for their past misdeeds, for rebelling against the peace they’ve achieved - people who don’t believe they’ve paid the price for their sins. 

There are some people in this world that believe they never will, that no amount of punishment could ever be enough to feel the pain they carved out into other people.

As the Princess of said nation, Izumi and her parents were at the forefront of those threats. It was part of the reason why her father agreed to educate her early in the international politics of their alliances. He wanted her to be prepared because despite the resources he has available to him, that was something he could never promise - not in her position. 

The thought never spooked Izumi however, but she reckons that has more to do with desensitization than it does reason or emotional maturity. 

Nevertheless, the Fire Nation has found itself in conflict with the Northern Water Tribe as of late. It was nothing nefarious on either side, a mere disagreement over the Earth Kingdom’s aid. Both are in current need of it, but only one shall be granted their request; the Earth Kingdom is large but even they have their limits. The Fire Nation was in a material crisis. They had a merciless drought last month and while they’ve always been accustomed to the dry heat of their homeland, even firebenders need water. Meanwhile, the Water Tribe was in need of the Earth Kingdom’s architectural support for a small village in the middle of the Dark Sea. They had sent all the waterbenders they could but were reaching their limit of generosity and the Earth Kingdom had plenty of builders to spare. 

Diplomacy has reigned over the three nations’ communication thus far, but they have yet to come to a conclusion. In response, her father’s council has persuaded him to hold a meeting to discuss the possibilities. To call it a war meeting would be a little overzealous and rash, but it wasn’t dissimilar to one, but no one hoped it would come to that. The Earth Kingdom has been their biggest rival in the past in this new stretch of allegiance. They were the ones who felt the brunt of their fury in the war, who were toppled in every corner of their lands for so many desolate years. The two were the most headstrong nations, the most unyielding, so it made sense when she put it in that perspective. Izumi may not be an earthbender, but growing up around her Aunt Toph, her cousins, and hearing what her father had to say about the four nations taught enough on what to expect with them.

If all went well, this meeting would only determine their final pitches for the compromise they’ll suggest when Izumi’s Uncle Aang comes to settle the dispute next week. Getting all their turtle-ducks in a row before presenting as a united front at the world gathering, but there was still a lot to decide. 

Izumi’s father, not the Firelord but just a regular thirty-nine-year-old man, detested war meetings. He always dragged his feet going through them to the point where he couldn’t go in alone unless her mother knocked some sense into him with a handful of sarcastically dry blunt encouragement. When he came back, he typically looked as though he’d just challenged five firebenders to an Agni Kai at once and usually fell into a restful sleep for the rest of the night. 

The pale girl knew a part of that was because her father shivered at even the word war, not to mention that he tends to drift off during some of the longer meetings, but she also was aware of his history with the subject; mostly anyway. She hadn’t known the details, not her parents nor her aunt had desired to iterate the entirety of what happened years ago, but she heard a broad explanation of the story. It wasn’t like she could avoid it either, a tale like that - about the Firelord no less - was quite popular in these parts. Izumi couldn’t blame him for it because of this. Normally, she’d feel as though personal feelings came second to one’s duty, but she wouldn’t want to attend another if she were in his place.

The black-haired teenager felt that if she could be half as selfless and determined as her father is after everything he’s been through, then she’d make a fine leader one day. That was her hope anyhow.

“If you go any slower, your fuddy-duddy uncle will beat you in there.” A familiar voice taunted her, a sinister jingle in her tone that she could never get rid of no matter how much she’s changed, but it had become comforting to the woman’s young niece after all this time.

Izumi immediately spun around on her heels and innocently faced her aunt with a nervous knit of her brow. “Uncle would have to rise up from the grave for that to happen, Aunt Azula.” The princess plainly retorted, the majority of her focus still on what she would face when she walked through the red curtains, but this quick exchange with her aunt was decent at chipping away a small part of that nervousness.

Her aunt looked away as a forlorn smirk skittered across her face; something contrite in how she seemed to remember her once estranged and now departed uncle. “If anyone could do it, it would be him.” She decided on after a moment, her sharp features turning pensive the more she dwelled on his character. “He was a master at giving advice, he’d know what to tell you. Unfortunately, you’re stuck with me and your father.” She now teased half-heartedly, appearing about as hesitant to counsel her as she was unsure.

The straight-haired heir took a gander past her aunt’s shoulder, doing what she could in that moment to isolate her thoughts on the family history behind war meetings. When her aunt and father reunited from a coincidence - if you believed in those - at a small strip of land in the Earth Kingdom when Izumi was five years old, her aunt had found her version of enlightenment; or as much of it as someone with her past could. She wasn’t sure at the time if she’d take her brother up on his offer to move back to the palace, but she was a single mother to four-year-old girl who didn’t have any other family, and so she followed him back out of necessity.

Since Izumi was so young then, she can’t recall the intricate details of how she decided to permanently move back to Capital City or how she reconciled with her old friends Mai and Ty Lee, how she reluctantly started her journey to having a better relationship with her mother again, but she knew it was long and laborious. Now, she serves as the Firelord’s main military strategist and sometimes even a communicator with the Earth Kingdom - after having lived there for twelve odd years or so after running away when they were still teens. She was accustomed to going to these kinds of meetings that it felt like second nature to her now, but she also remembers what it’s like to be a fourteen-year-old with that level of expectation.

Izumi could see the mixed feelings written on her face. No one wanted a kid in this type of situation, especially with a group of arrogant and privileged adults who can be too sensitive at times, but as the next Firelord one day, it was her duty. The thirty-seven-year-old woman pursed her lips trying to come up with something to tell her niece, but Izumi knew it didn’t come as easy to her as it did her father; a trait Izumi predicted still came from turmoil in her past and a fear of getting it wrong, but Izumi was satisfied with her ability to try. “This is a learning experience for you, Zu. Listen and really discern what you want to say before opening your mouth, even if you don’t agree. Remember: they know more than you, these people have all been through plenty of their own trials. Having a contrasting opinion doesn’t mean they're in the wrong and it doesn’t mean you have a right to speak out. If you’re confused, turn to one of us. Promise me, Izumi.” The ex-princess directed sternly, the way she always was during her teaching moments.

If Izumi thought her tutors were hardasses during their sessions, they couldn’t hold a candle to her aunt. 

“I will, don’t worry about me, Aunt Azula. I’ve been training for this.” The shorter girl attempted to offer, pushing her gold rectangular glasses back up her nose with her hands under her robe sleeves, the perfect image of elegance.

Azula only nodded, trying not to appear solemn. “And I trained to be Firelord.” The admission halted both of them in their tracks, the realization hitting Izumi like a fireball. “Be willing to adapt, princess.” The official supplied respectfully, bowing to her in the traditional fire nation form, before disappearing through the curtain ahead of them.

Having left Izumi with a lot to ponder, the young'un took a deep breath where she stood before the war room, her brain working to digest what her aunt had said. In doing so, she was too distracted to hear the footsteps approaching her from behind. “Uh oh, someone looks anxious.” Izumi instantly recognized her father’s voice, pulling her out of her spiral of robust curiosity.

Spinning around, the royal found two more across from her, both a little older, and both staring at her with lots of love. “Perhaps a bit, I’m afraid. This is only the most important meeting of my life to date. A test.” She confessed to her parents quite sternly, leaving little room for dubiety or fear.

Her mother lightly huffed at her daughter, Izumi’s uptight nature unwilling to bend once more, even if to settle her nerves - something Mai has expressed worry over on a few separate occasions. “No one is testing you, Izumi. This is just to get you acclimated.” She kept her reassurance short, able to hide her concern well, Izumi couldn’t even tell, but she was wise enough to know it was there without it.

Swallowing a newfound lump in her throat, Izumi found it difficult not to bite her lip as she addressed her parents in a way she hoped wouldn’t rile them up even further. “They won’t be testing me, but I will. I want to do right by my nation.”

“You are so much like your father.” Her mother remarked offhandedly, though her tune at a grumble, she didn’t attempt to mask the partiality in her words this time and it made both Izumi and Zuko feebly grin at one another.

Being compared to her father was never a bad thing in Izumi’s book.

At this, the scarred leader slowly leaned into the empty space between him and his daughter, his voice at a whisper. “Don’t worry, I’m anxious too.” He handed the teenager a clement smile to cool the tension stretching her shoulders before instinctually straightening his back to squeeze his wife’s hand.

Resisting the urge to ask him why - the small irrational part of her mind convinced it was from his lack of confidence in her - Izumi tightened her grip on her own wrists melded together in front of her middle and nodded. Before she had time to think of how to respond, when she glanced up, she observed both her parents staring at her wrist bands. “Something’s wrong.” She more stated than asked, knowing better than to question when the answer was obvious.

She was always told she could be rather cut and dry, straight to the point if you will, but thankfully little Lin was already more so at only eight years old, so she could withstand the teasing. 

As though he’d been caught, Zuko awkwardly shrugged, his head tilting an angle of sideways that never meant all was well. It seemed a new height of uncomfortable, she truly didn’t know how he did it. “Nothing wrong, Zumi, only different.” He brokenly replied, Izumi knowing his stuttering had to do with breaking it - whatever it was - to her lightly.

“It’s your wrist guards. They’re upside down.” Her mother thankfully filled in the blanks; aware her daughter would prefer not beating around the bush.

Izumi’s eyes widened in mild shock, her heart thumping aggressively for a beat or two at the news. “What?! W-why didn’t you tell me sooner? I can’t go in improperly dressed. How do I fix it?” 

Grateful to herself for keeping her temporary displeasure quiet, the Firelord hurriedly extended her arm to show her. He then offered to fix it for her, but the independent youth kindly rejected him; she wanted to do it herself, so she got it right next time. These arm bands were traditionally worn during war meetings to show rank without being in full uniform, being at the bottom of the totem pole, she paid extra close attention to not bring disgust into a room she’d only now be stepping into for the first time, but she supposed she wasn’t concentrating enough. She’s lucky they caught it and even luckier she noticed. 

Once it was finished, both Mai and Zuko’s faces subtly became a little sweeter. “If you can abstain from overthinking and double guessing yourself, you’ll do admirable, hoshi. These things are complex, yes, but it’s not life and death yet. Don’t strain yourself so much.” The princess’ mother encouraged, something a little soft and faithful to her that wasn’t there before. 

Zuko’s chest expanded with his grin, suddenly his expression relaxing once his golden eyes met Izumi’s. “Yes. Don’t forget that it's not all up to you. There are twenty other people in there to solve this puzzle, don’t be afraid to form solutions based on what other people say. The majority of fixes come from working together.” Her father joined in with some guidance of his own, stepping into that role amply after fourteen years of doing so in the past; it was a job that agreed with and suited him well now, even if it hadn’t always.

Izumi listened to them carefully. While her mother wasn’t a strategist, she learned a lot from her own father during the war. Zuko said she was the only thing keeping his head on straight when he first started. She doesn’t join the war meetings often anymore, but having her daughter there for the first time considered it a special occasion. They’ve both been in more battles than Izumi has even seen or heard of in this time of peace she was born into. Their consultation was to be heeded intently if she wanted to do well in there.

Clenching her jaw to remain still, Izumi’s gaze locked on her parents’ with understanding and gratitude. She wouldn’t know what she’d do without them. “Thank you. Maybe not today, but one day soon, I’ll start to outplay you both.” She couldn’t help from smirking, her deeply buried roguishness peeking out in a rare number of calculated moments.

As for this moment, it simply felt right. It helped ease her stress and seeing her parents erupt into matching smirks of their own was enough validation to instill her with the security she’d been missing just a minute ago. “I have no doubt.” Zuko proclaimed heartily, her words warming her to the core.

“I’m counting on it.” Mai added plainly, the corner of her brow quirked up in sly amusement.

This time, Izumi stiffly shrugged, indifferent gestures never feeling right in her bones. “I have good teachers.”

With a long puff, the Firelord gaped unenthusiastically over at the war room a couple steps away from the trio and when they returned to Izumi, they were determined. “Your mother and I want you to know that we’re very proud of you, turtle-duck; of your dedication and how much you’ve done. That being said, this is the last chance. If at any point you want to leave, you can. Your Uncle Tom, Aunt Kiyi, Grandmother Ursa and Gran Michi are all available if you need a break. Jus-just so you know.”

While Izumi rolled off any feelings of inadequacy at all the back-up plans they had in place, all it did was tug upwards on the monarch’s lips. She was lucky to have such a big family to rely on if need be, too many people don’t have such luxuries and in that - not power nor gold or the amount of servants they have - they are rich. “I know, Father.” The teen’s austere tone mellowed into something more than courteous, but indulgent as she then bowed to her parents ceremoniously.

The couple bowed back, but then took their turns laying a kiss each to their daughter’s forehead. “Did you want to walk in with us?” Zuko inquired unsuspectingly, as though he already knew what the girl’s response would be.

Izumi shook her head politely at her dad, her feet still in place. “That’s alright. I’ll be right behind you.” She calmly declared, nothing more and nothing less.

Mai nodded as if she had predicted the answer before her husband had even completed his question and wrapped one of her slender hands around the Firelord’s arm. The two then settled into sync beside one another, marching vacantly into the war room behind them.

Once she was alone, Izumi faced the curtain herself. It’s stark crimson velvet calling to her like a siren’s song. She was skeptical that one meeting would spell her doom, let alone this one, but there was always a chance something could happen. Look at what happened at her father’s first war meeting, but things were different then. This was just a cautionary meeting, a clarification of the highest order. No one was fighting and Izumi didn’t have to worry about her father challenging her to an Agni Kai. 

All she wants is to show people what she could do, that she had the Fire Nation’s best interest at heart and she would die for it; as any princess should. She would be there for them, she will fight to keep this era of serenity if it was the last thing she did. 

So, with that, Izumi silently nodded to herself and closed the distance before wandering inside.

It may be strenuous and worrisome, but Izumi loved her job.

Chapter Text

The royal library is larger than a maze. 

Thinking about it, she supposed it made sense, this library has been standing for hundreds of generations and only collects more and more tomes and scrolls with every one that passes it by. It smelled of ink and parchment, with a great many windows to let in the sunshine as it made the books’ spines glow in gold and the heat in. The endless amount of shelves littering the way spanned all the way up the ceiling and created many hidden nooks she retreated to when she wanted to be alone. Basking in the quiet and creativity, Izumi morphed into the happiest house pet whenever she stepped foot inside. 

It was her happy place. 

Within these walls, she felt anything was possible. 

There were some days where she had no need nor desire to read and yet she wandered inside anyway. There was something about this puzzling haven that made the world feel timeless; frozen. Today however, was not one of those days.

At eighteen years old, she had since become a master firebender, but that didn’t mean she knew every single form in history. She wanted to though. Izumi had read all the firebending scrolls in the royal library a few years back, but while she was on a trip with Kya and Hanae, her father had informed his daughter that he located a new scroll from a long burned down village on the outskirts of the Fire Nation. 

Obviously, that immediately intrigued Izumi. Seeing as she wasn’t home at the time, he’d said he left it in the library for her to find when she returned. So, that was exactly what she was doing now. She could greet Hisa, her aunt Kiyi’s toddler Hideto, and everyone else later - she had plenty of time. 

Unfortunately, her father never explained where precisely he had put the new scroll, so Izumi was left blindly checking every label in the firebending section of the library. On her way over, Izumi mindlessly trekked down the aisles without a peep, her walk light and free, but just as courtly as ever. Perhaps it was her weariness from travel or maybe it was how she seemed to instantly leave her stress at the door, but Izumi’s casualty got the better of her and before she knew it, a person’s figure ahead of her absorbed her peripheral; just not in enough time to step on the brakes.

In the end, the raven haired monarch stumbled into what appeared to be a man in the blink of an eye. She could feel the stranger’s gentle hands stable the both of them before immediately retracting his palms back to his sides. Once Izumi balanced her glasses back in place, she could see the man clearly. There was already a hint of red on her face, embarrassed for running into someone due to her wandering eye.

When her vision finally did come into focus, it surprisingly wasn’t a stranger she was met with, but an old friend - but Izumi didn’t know if that made her more or less abashed. “Princess?” It was a question first, his confusion startling them both. “Princess, my apologies.” he corrected himself, picking up his shoulders and bowing in the appropriate nature she was used to.

Without saying a word in reply, Izumi let her golden orbs analyze him. His cream skin was the opposite of her harsh paleness; it blended handsomely into the cool tones of the books surrounding them and his cedar brown hair falling past his shoulders with care only made him more appealing. When Izumi managed to gawk into his own eyes, the heir got a sudden desire for brown sugar - their shade mirrored it almost perfectly if not slightly more grey. “Odalis.” Izumi patted down her robe, her urge to appear astutely presentable diminishing with her comfort around a person she knew so well. “Don’t sound so panicked, it is only me.”

The young man chuckled, how deep and tender his voice sounded made her do a double-take. She knew it had been a while since she’d seen him, but how could a voice change so drastically? “You say as though bumping into the princess is commonplace, your highness.” He continued to hypnotize her with his velvety tune; pleasant like a Sungai horn just ever so flat in a way that actually made it better. 

That down to earth feel nearly distracted Izumi, but she chalked it up to surprise and shook her head back into concentration. “I don’t recall you being so cordial when we were kids.” She reminded the taller citizen with a distant fondness she had some forgotten.

“I always apologized. Forgive my discretion, but it was my oaf of a younger brother that trampled down these halls once upon a time.” He spoke up amicably still in spite of the half-hearted taunt to his brother.

In truth, Izumi had to agree. “Yes, you’re right. Between the three of you, you had always been the most,” She paused, searching for the right word. “Chivalrous.” The young master defended candidly, both of them returning to their traditional stances. As a princess, she’d been told to always assume a sophisticated demeanor even among friends or in the privacy of her own bedchambers, but she preferred it that way. It would seem that Odalis had as well, but not even tradition could ignore the soothing air encircling them now.

He risked a faint smirk at her acceptance, one that contained no hint of mischief anywhere to be had. “Thank you, princess.” His bun dipped with his head in a half-bow of gratitude, but Izumi could hardly tear her gaze off his face.

Taking a deep breath to settle herself, her reason for their run-in disregarded, Izumi cocked her head to the side while her mind began to ponder. “I hadn’t known you would be visiting, my apologies for the shameful welcome. Are Hua and Bao here as well?” She questioned with a reserved sense of curiosity; she had a problem with asking too many queries at once, so the bender collected herself swiftly.

The young man shook his head, his slender figure calling attention to his wealthy garnet robes. He was the son of a Fire Nation noble and he made sure his clothes always represented his house admirably. “Only me, I’m afraid. Bao is still traveling through the Earth Kingdom and Hua is covering for Hanae with the Kyoshi Warriors with the trip you took and all. I’m only here to confirm the authenticity of the recently discovered jewels down in the Dragon Bone catacombs.” The teen elucidated quite formally, but any other way would only make Izumi feel out of place. 

Nodding along, Izumi was unable to control the grin that danced across her lips at his explanation; her mouth acting of its own accord. “Oh yes. Now that you say so, I can recollect the letters Hua sent me about you apprenticing in Ba Sing Se at the Crystal Crypt. Why, that was not even two years ago. Have you perfected the craft already?” The princess caught herself easing around him, even her striking features softened with a sense of glee.

She admits, finding herself in an educated conversation can sometimes be few and far in between. She adores her family, but there were some members that only told stories if they involved fighting and competition. Benders can too often be reckless, just look at Suyin. She was only nine years old and already racking up a collection of scars from fighting girls at school. 

The even-tempered non-bender shrugged at this, his gaze darting all over her face with tranquility and silent wonder. “I think you underestimate how much can happen in two years, Iz.” He nearly mumbled that one, but Izumi noticed his effort to sound clear and his words were vast enough to instill a feeling of serenity in this little parchment grove they have found themselves in.

“Perhaps.” Her tongue took over, her interest diverting and drifting up and down his placid form. “I became a master firebender and you are now a scholar; at sixteen no less is quite impressive.” 

As she readjusted her shoulder-plates, Odalis chuckled to himself more than to his friend, the sound coming from under his breath as if he hadn’t wished to let it out. “Seventeen, princess. You always forget that half year. Glad to know some things haven’t changed.” He wasn’t aggravated or irked, but appeared as though he rather enjoyed correcting her, but that wasn’t anything new to her - perhaps from him at least.

Izumi let her smile fizzle out naturally, but it took a short while after snickering at his mild insistence. “My pardon.” Her throat still beamed with joviality, even from something so small.

Suddenly, Izumi caught Odalis’ orbs dropping down to his hands where he was holding an old tome. Chances are she’s read it already, but with their heated proximity blurring the thoughts in her head - something she merely presumed happened when old friends reunite - she couldn’t for the life of her discern which tome it was or what category it belonged to. “Have I interrupted your studies?” He cleared his throat with a tint of dismay reaching to her, but Izumi realized that she didn’t want to see him go.

“Not exactly. Seems I can’t find the blasted scroll; my father left it for me while I was abroad.” The older teen picked up her long robe and the both of them began walking down the aisles in tandem, which oddly felt much more gratifying than doing so alone - something that has scarcely happened before. 

As if it were habitual for the teenager, Odalis nodded to his childhood friend in keen comprehension. “You mean the one he found in Sha Shan? Based on daido juku?” He easily continued their rapport, the back and forth between them getting to be quite entertaining.

With him being a non-bender, Izumi’s brows raised with fascination; not something she expected to find her so soon upon returning. “Precisely. Might I ask how you learned all this?” She worried her words would feel like an investigation, but when he grinned, Izumi did the same. She should have realized he knew her better than that, even if it had been a few years since they’d seen each other.

Remaining proper, Odalis licked his lips and gawked up to adore the books sitting in the shelves above them. “Your father informed me of the scroll when I arrived. As for how I knew about daido juku, I may not have any firebenders in my family, but I like to be well-rounded.” 

His response only made Izumi’s smirk widen, still at a respectable width, but she couldn’t help feel like it was more genuine than any of her colleagues have seen. Only her family has really seen a sincere smile from her, but she didn’t know if Odalis fell in that group; something about him felt different. His sister Hua certainly did, but she had always spent more time with her than her brothers. “That is something we have in common, then. A scholar, indeed.” Her bout of unforeseen mirth subsided to a soothing degree, leaving little but a whisper of gaiety on her sober features. People always said she had an unreadable expression.

The duo walked a few more paces until Odalis stopped, reached up to a height Izumi wouldn’t have been able to achieve on her own without a ladder, and genially handed it to her with another bow of his head. She thought he would say something then as she instantly got busy with opening it up, careful not to crumple or fold its edges, but it was only after she’d closed it back up that she heard the tender notes of his voice once again. “I-I missed being with you.” He exclaimed benevolently, his very tone making her warm with favor, before the young man closed his brown irises and loosened his collar ever so slightly. “In the whole nation.” He added quickly, but it still felt earnest to Izumi.

As the princess tucked her scroll underneath her arm and they resumed their stroll through the library, Izumi’s mind went to the rest of his family and their childhood. “I couldn’t imagine being away for so long, this is my home. It must be hard being bi-nation.” The black-haired girl admitted benignly, finding it hard how she never thought so deeply about it when she grew up beside Hua and her cousins. 

She didn’t know if they considered themselves lucky to hail from two different nations, but Izumi was grateful her spirit wasn’t split like that. The Fire Nation was where her heart lied and maybe she was biased because of it, but she liked it that way.

After all, she knew what it was like for people like that. Izumi had once been right next to Hua when a bully from the pier one day insulted her for being only half superior as he called it. Many in the Fire Nation, mostly the older generation, still held firm in their beliefs that all other nations were but scum under their boots and they treated everyone with mixed ancestry as such. It wasn’t any easier in the Earth Kingdom either. The same kind of folk scrutinized citizens with Fire Nation blood in their veins, telling them to go back to their motherland, treating them as if they were ticking bombs waiting to set their homes ablaze once more. Every corner of this earth contained bigoted people and nothing would change that, but Izumi liked to think she had helped her friends and family not feel alone when those people surfaced.

“There are bigger fish, crueler crimes to repair.” He told her without hesitation, as though it was typical for them to talk about such philosophical subjects, but she couldn’t say she minded. “I adore the Earth Kingdom just as ardently as the Fire Nation, but lately I have found myself being pulled here more. I couldn’t tell you why, but I-I look forward to seeing you around the city some time, your highness.” 

He sounded so gracious, so humane, Izumi lost control of her breath. Now it was her turn to clear her throat, a noise she detested on herself. However, not even her distaste could prevent her thoughts from venturing. Before she knew it, Izumi only had one thing on her mind and for some reason, it troubled her. “Until you must head back.” She permitted her lips to loosen, an ounce of her decorum out the proverbial window, but she felt she had to acknowledge it; even if just to remind herself that he and his family always leave eventually.

Once the pair had journeyed towards the middle of the library, all four of their feet paused. Odalis gave her a humble and civil grin, but Izumi desperately looked for something more. She found it in the dimple poking out from his left cheek - he only had the one - and when she saw it, she felt his veneration. She wondered if he could feel it too, if he could sense she felt the same. “On the contrary, I have decided to move here. I’m not sure for how long, but I’ve become homesick and have applied for an official job here in Capital City. So perhaps it might be sooner we next see each other than the last.” The somewhat tall brunette brought her relief and Izumi felt a stutter in her chest. 

Suddenly, she didn’t know if the little space between them was a good thing or not; there was a part of her that wanted nothing more than to fill it and another that wished to run for the hills. 

What was happening with her?

Izumi let her built up breath release from her nose and she straightened her gold glasses with her free hand, shaking all other thoughts out of her head. “I stand corrected, then. I-I’m glad. It would be nice to catch up.” 

Thankful she kept her tune even, Izumi watched as Odalis tucked his hands into his robe and gave her a full bow, his third since bumping into her. “I’m one messenger hawk away, princess. For now however, it would seem that I should leave you to your reading. I hope to see it in action one day soon. Good day, Iz.” The lenient noble bid her farewell in his most congenial tone and shortly, Izumi was watching him walk down the aisle; away.

Without even realizing she was blushing redder than her mother’s favorite fire flakes, Izumi clung onto her new scroll thinking about when she’d see him next. He appeared entirely reborn since she saw him a few years back. She wouldn’t have called him immature - his brother was another story although - but he seemed a man now in most ways. Grown.

Izumi concluded that he was right: a lot can change in two years.

What else would change in the next two?

Chapter Text

Izumi doesn’t know how long she’s sat here.

It felt like too long since she last even moved a muscle. She knows thanks to the flickering candle at her desk that it’s been at least a handful of hours. Perhaps she should have been finished by now, but this is her first time doing something like this and she wanted to get it right. There was more at stake here than merely displeasure and disappointment.

This was a trial of sorts for the young princess. While she is not yet Firelord, at twenty one years old, her father was already in talks of her responsibility; using words like soon and be prepared one day out of the blue. She’s always known that her father was planning to forgo the tradition of a new Firelord being crowned only with the passing of the previous, but he’s only forty six and still in tip-top shape. There is no reason he should be describing her reign like it was right around the corner.

He’s stated that it was only to get her used to the idea - that she was now closer to being Firelord than the opposite. Izumi could understand that of course, but the thought of taking his place still deters her for the time being.

As though she needs any more reminder that a whole nation would one day be on her shoulders. She’s known that fact since she was old enough to think for herself. As a child, she first started having questions about what it would take and how a job like that was possible. She knew too well the vital importance of her future position.

At the desk in her father’s official quarters - where he conducts the majority of his day-to-day monarch duties - Izumi sits at the helm now, more nervous now than when she attended her first war meeting. The raven haired twenty-one year old only has one thing on her mind, only one thing that she needs to focus on. She tried to take deep breaths, up from her gut and out through her mouth; the way her father and aunt taught her to do. Meditation has always been a help for her, someone who used to be a young girl with temper issues is now a patient and composed individual. She enjoys the quiet, the serenity of peace, but now it only feels like a clock waiting on her and adding to the gravity of the situation.

Before the heir could reach the end of her consideration, there is a respectful knock on the door ahead of her, a routinely sound that had no intention of actually waiting for her to allow or deny it before opening. 

On the other side of the door, gradually and silently making their way inside the crimson office, was Izumi’s father and a prisoner being held by a guard alongside him. The women in uniform came to an abrupt stop just behind the scarred king, not even having to think about etiquette and formality to put them into action after all the years she’s likely served the two royals in this room with her. She stood at attention, not truly looking Izumi in the eye, not without direct orders to, but that was typical in the palace. Zuko had his hands at his sides, never having gotten used to putting them behind his back or in his sleeves like many other diplomats do, but his face harbored a faith in them that soothed his daughter even despite the expectancy written on sober features.

It was the prisoner however that her golden orbs gravitated to. A ghastly pale individual with bags under his eyes darker than a shadow in the night; the contrast only making him seem more similar to a skull-like face. His body on the other hand appeared as though it belonged to someone else entirely. It was sharp and robust, he had muscles larger than her head, thighs and calves that could run from one end of the Earth Kingdom to the other without stopping. His body was a temple as they say, with valleys and ridges and even mountains. He had no doubt worked relentlessly to procure such weapons of destruction and intimidation, she almost respected him for it.

However, she couldn’t respect what he wielded them for and she was not intimidated by his savagery. 

This particular citizen of hers used his resources to rally a small force of rebels. Benders and non benders alike, commoners and business owners with little sway in the powerhouse villages in the Fire Nation both put their faith in this man. He had to be quite charismatic to be able to pull off such belief. It still was not an alarming amount of people, less than a complete battalion in their military for their outpost towns, yet it wasn’t their size - but what they did - that brought him here at her feet. 

He led his troop to the nation’s main trading office in one of their coastal villages and raided the entire population. Homes burnt down, civilians tied captive in the center square, crucial correspondence and shipments went up in a jarring display of outrage and superiority. An envoy - one of their own recently returned from the Western Air Temple - had been electrocuted from the inside out; his intestines charred beyond recognition as banners were waved and chants shouted from the top of these barbarians’ lungs for reform. 

It was said they sought to make an example out of that poor unfortunate village - called it a protest to return the Fire Nation back to its ‘capital’ glory - rather than naming it what it was; a massacre to convince the Firelord to fall back into fascism and genocide. 

With Izumi in charge of determining their punishment, she wanted everyone to know that she had no intention to turn to malignity.

She was going to make an example out of them. This nation will not tolerate cruelty. 

As the leader, this man was singled out and brought to them for prime prosecution. The others’ fate was decided by her father, which was ordinary, but their leader was her test. Seeing as no one was harmed outside of their borders nor blood, it was solely up to the royal family to deem what mercy he was worthy of. What Izumi wanted to do was ask the families he frightened what they thought he deserved, but they weren’t prepared for such a burden, even if they wished they were.

No, they weren’t raised to shoulder this kind of obligation, but she was, and now she had to put her thoughts - her ideas - into action. To bring them to reality however, was much different than in theory. 

It was terrifying.

One wrong choice could dub him a martyr, invoke a riot in the streets, fuel the flames of yet another rebellion - one they might not have the strength to calm this time around. Her father made sure she knew that no decision would make everyone happy; not on the council and certainly not within the expanse of their entire nation. They had thousands of people at their whim, to shepherd and protect, to rule with a firm but gentle hand, to speak for in their best interest, but it was impossible to make such a choice that everyone agreed with. There were still many that felt they should have won the war; that they were the chosen ones of the spirits that made these nations and their lands. How do you reason with people like that?

Whatever punishment she gave him would have to fit the crime. Permitting pity and succumbing to too much of her empathy would only give way to a sentence he ought to have suffered tenfold. Going too easy on this man would show her citizens that their next Firelord was forgiving on crime, that she was someone they could tip-toe around and step on. It would not bring closure to the people he hurt and the wounds he embedded in their memories. It might even show others out there that perhaps he was right and they have gone soft; too soft to defend themselves and continue to thrive. 

Surrendering to her fury at the blood he spilled, the lives he ruined, and innocence he turned to ash would be just as unjust and horrendous. Serving him a punishment too harsh would inspire fear among her people looking to her for support and morality. It would likely push the traitors in hiding merely waiting for an excuse to label her family monsters of their heritage’s making, declaring for new leaders, ones that could very well be even less understanding than they made her out to be. She couldn’t let her country fall in vengeful; malevolent hands. This is their culture - their lives - people lay in her hands. It was her duty to take care of them above all else. 

She may have been born into this role and not picked, but she planned to make them proud, to be a Firelord they would follow to the end. She would have to earn their respect and their credence, but that is something she’s been fighting for since the day she was born. She would be their guardian, their voice, the fire that sparked their passion until her final hour.

And it all starts here.

Finally, Izumi takes a deep breath, one quiet enough for only herself to hear. She needed to be sure, not just for her own conscience, but so there is no doubt in her conviction. Diligently, the princess ventured slowly over towards where her visitors were, her golden orbs chipping into the reprobate’s very soul like her life depended on it as she did. She didn’t stop glaring at him for a moment.

He wasn’t able to stand up straight from the way the guard was holding him in front of her now. His feet dragged behind him just barely above the ground, his shoulder clutched rigidly with what was no doubt an aching sting, but it was the least he was owed after how much pain he caused those villagers; that envoy suffered immensely more as he was burned alive by this man’s hand. Within another beat, the silence in the room stiff and suffocating, Izumi washed away all the uncertainties in her mind, ridding herself of the skeptical voices unsure if she was ready for this liability. 

But it was her job and so she opened her mouth anyway, letting her gut speak in replace of her brain, a rare occurrence for the observant twenty-one year old. “What is your name?” She questioned him, her tune cold as ice and stern as a boulder; attributes she learned from her aunts Toph and Katara. 

All were confused by her query, but no one said a word of it. When her dad’s face swiftly blinked away it’s expression of understanding, she knew he remembered. Everyone handled hard situations differently, that includes responsibility, leadership, judgement. Firelord Zuko once told Izumi a few years ago that he couldn’t hand the sentence that needed to be dealt - brutal sentences anyhow - if he knew their name. A name invited emotion, feeling, empathy. It created a bridge for him to know who they are outside of their crimes. To care for that person beyond what a neutral third party could because if he knew their name; their life, he could no longer see them as a stranger or a citizen, but a friend. He said he wasn’t strong enough to do what needed to be done in scenarios like that. 

So he would wait until after the gavel had been hit to learn their name, if he could. They were still his people and he wanted to remember every soul he sent to prison or banished from their homeland. Even if it was fair, if it was the only reasonable payment for what they had done, it was the only way he knew how to be their ruler. 

Izumi couldn’t do that though. She admired his way of doing things, it made all the sense in the world to her, but Izumi believed that it shouldn’t be easy. If it was, anyone could do it. She wanted to come face to face with the callousness of it all and walk through to the other side in spite of it. Their odium, the nation’s expectation being carried on her back, she felt it was the only way to be the strongest, most confident and unwavering Firelord she could be because if she could survive that, she could do anything they needed of her. 

“Asahi.” The man eventually proclared, his curiosity getting the better of him as he stared her down just as vehemently as she was gawking at him, if not for an extra baneful gleam in his carob eyes. 

Nodding, Izumi made note to write that name down, as though she could ever forget it. Once she repeated his name enough times to echo off the walls of her mind, the pale heir squeezed her own two hands tightly, nearly cutting off circulation as she clenched her jaw in assurance. Here it goes. “Asahi, as the royal Princess of the Fire Nation, I decree your crime to be of utmost severity. For the desecration of civilian property, harassment of youth, disrespect for government officials, tampering with foreign affairs, and for the murder of a fellow Fire Nation citizen: I hereby sentence you to the imprisonment of twenty five years in one of our native prisons and for your immediate banishment once your time has been served. You will be given visitation under the evidence of good behavior without the possibility of a shortened sentence.” 

To her ears, she sounded much like her mother, monotone and depraved of joviality, but she wondered what she sounded like to him. It would be her voice, her face, her words he will remember and cling to for the next era of his life while he rots away in prison. It will likely bring about an animus that will rear its ugly head when he gets out and he will be seeking his revenge if he manages to escape exile, but Izumi was willing and prepared for such an outcome. It was solely an occupational hazard. 

What she hoped he would do however, is ponder what choices he’s made that have led him to that cell and those same four walls day after day. She knows it’s unlikely, but it is her wish. Condemning him does nothing to bring her joy, though he might disagree. She wants solace and serenity for all her citizens, even ones who have strayed from a righteous path such as Asahi. 

Most of all though, the raven haired woman hopes with all her might that his downfall will be a lesson to others out there watching and listening to her governing fist. Let her greet them with an open hand and an open mind and let them do the same. Harmony will never be accomplished by the royal family alone, she will need their help to restore the affinity of the Fire Nation. She wants them to choose a tolerant path; one that is humane and good. If not for the well-being of all, then for the sanctity and certitude of themselves. 

After all, one is only in control of their own life and no one else will live it for them. You are the only person that will never leave your side. If you can’t live with yourself and the decisions you’ve made, then it will be only you who suffers in the end. 

Asahi began to ridicule the monarch the minute her announcement had been said, but it did not phase Izumi. His mouth had been covered as the guard dragged him away whence they came as the golden spectacled girl turned her back towards the man who betrayed his country. She knows it will be a source of hatred for him soon, the image of her unbothered and gallant as she damns him to his own hell, but she will not put on a mask and play pretend for him. 

Once he was gone, Izumi gaped out the window of her father’s study. It was a gorgeous view, she told herself, watching the sun rise with the dawn after having been up all night debating. 

And yet, it was only when the tender arm of her dad and ruler came to embrace his brave princess, that Izumi’s magnanimous courage began to crack. She might have been sure and she does not regret it, but in his arms she was allowed to be merely a man’s daughter once more; and that daughter despised the aggression of humanity’s wrath.

Chapter Text

Izumi rose with the sun.

It wasn’t uncommon for people of the Fire Nation, bender or not, to do so. Their legends say that the sun gave life to the first firebenders, the dragons. It was through its warmth and ever-present vitality that the dragons harnessed its fervor to bend. 

Time has changed things since, but the sun’s unremitting vigor has not. Some would say it was more useful to them than air. Air can help one breathe, but without the sun sparking and burning in their veins, they would have no purpose for it. Life without meaning is not a life at all. Even non-benders receive its zeal. 

It kisses their skin, it produces their shadows so that they may never feel lonely, it cooks their meals and warms their homes. They say all fire is descended from the sun. Without it, the world would never burn hot enough to produce such heat. When Izumi became a master firebender at seventeen years old, her father thought to make it official and took her to see the dragons protected by the ancient Sun Warriors. It was still a heavily guarded secret he had taken on as another duty of the royal family, especially considering it was her great great grandfather that nearly made them go extinct in the first place. She however, was privy to the secret. He told her she wouldn’t know the value or importance of keeping it if she didn’t know who she was doing it for.

They deemed her and Bumi worthy. He and Izumi’s Uncle Aang went too, the two young firebenders in the place of their fathers years back when their friendship was still new and fragile. They did the form of the Dancing Dragon together and learned of the miracles the sun and the dragons gave humanity.

Ever since, Izumi has taken up her father’s habit of waking at dawn. He followed it loosely, some days were harder than others, and he admitted to being more flexible with the regimen when Izumi was newly born, but it helped him start the day with harmony. 

Izumi understood that even before seeing the dragons. 

As a recluse by nature, a trait she needed to be flexible with due to her position in the world, having the sun as her only company made the world still. It was a feeling unlike any other. The way it stirred her passion and nurtured her serenity, the sound of birds absorbing its tranquility and how it makes Izumi feel the full extent of her youth never fails to be some of the best moments of her day. 

So, when it was dark out, such as it is right now, she can’t help but feel its lack; without. That’s not to say the nighttime isn’t beautiful, though this particular night unfortunately left a bitter taste in the royal’s mouth. 

Izumi couldn’t stop herself from gaping out the window of her bedchambers, inept from picturing the way that woman made her way inside more silent than even her Uncle Aang was capable of being with his feather-like feet. She wondered how long they were in her room for, staring down at her sleeping form, imagining how they wanted to strip her from this world. What weapon would they do it with, would they have gagged her, tied her up, cut out her tongue, held her for ransom? The possibilities were frighteningly endless.

There were not even cricket-hoppers outside to chirp a melody into the rather dry and stringent air; only silence. Almost as though the joy of the day couldn’t exist in the dark, as if it washed away everything from the day before, until you were bare and brand new all over again.

That was exactly how Izumi felt sitting on the edge of her bed now. 

She wasn’t physically bare, she was adorned respectfully in her ruby colored nightgown, but feeling as though she were turned inside out - exposing her insides for all to see. It made a lump form in her chest, making it hard to think and breathe as it extended to her throat. 

The lanterns lighting up the palace’s walls had brightened the outside of her room enough for Izumi to gaze intently out at it clearly, so that she may see if someone else tried hopping over it for a chance at their princess. It would seem she was more at their mercy than she ever wanted to be. She had no idea it was so easy to get to her. Or was it? Had they planned this meticulously, watching her day after day to see where she walked, what time she rested her head, memorizing the guards’ schedules to the letter? All for what? What injustice had she committed that was so sinister to incur such wreckage?

Izumi prided herself on being a fair and knowledgeable ruler. She treated her citizens the same, with kindness and intrigue, whether they were of Fire Nation blood or not. She made sure she knew about what was going on in every corner of her land, to every single one of the villagers that another ruler might leave to the wayside. She wanted to know about their problems so that she may work tirelessly for a way to heal them. She visited every town here and again, so they don’t believe they are ignored; to see her and be more than a faceless figure in their mind. Izumi didn’t want anyone to believe they were unimportant, that she didn’t care about them because she does.

Which is why she doubts that it had anything to truly do with her. She had enough faith in herself to believe she didn’t deserve this.

She told herself that it was likely some radical that depicted her as the inheritor of all the values the woman disagrees with. She suspected that whoever had come here detested her father’s way of doing things, but rather than go after the Firelord himself, she would go after his heir. Izumi was the only one after all, she could end her father’s reign and line of spiritual repair that the princess likely was raised to believe in whole-heartedly. If that were the case, their plan was probably to make her Aunt Azula Firelord. Despite her reform, a process that only those close to her truly know about, many still thought of her as Firelord Ozai’s daughter, the child prodigy that ripped through the Earth Kingdom with nothing but lightning bolts and wit. If that were to happen, it would be Hisa that inherited the land one day; something she has voiced on many occasions was not a burden she wished to harbor.

Most she reckoned, would feel better about knowing it was nothing they had done to earn this devotion to brutality, but it only did the opposite for Izumi.

If it were her fault, there would be a way to fix it, to make sure nothing like this ever happened again. She could pay her dues and reparations, and everyone could move on. She would have learned her lesson and possibly even become a better leader for it. It would rationalize his anger towards her, it would make sense.

Though it wasn’t. 

It came out of the blue, without logic or reason to the woman's madness. There was nothing she could have done to avoid her targeted disdain and nothing to mend it. There wasn’t anything she could do or give her that would make this animosity go away. This only meant that it was impossible to predict her return. She didn’t have a pattern to follow, a grudge to uncover, a long line of misfortune to navigate all leading to what drove her to come here.

She was an assassin, not a murder or a vengeful villager, just someone who cared too little about what lives she was paid to take.

It was unsettling to say the least.

Who’s to say she’s the only one out for a bounty on her head? People love to hate the governing family, it was easiest to blame the people calling the shots for all their problems, but she had always presumed they had a handle on those things. This was the first attempt on her life after all. Why now? Were they nervous that it would be her turn to sit on the throne soon? Had they simply grown tired of waiting for them to change, revert? Had they recently sentenced someone they cared about? What had brought this on?

The princess felt she was driving herself insane searching for an answer.

Although, Izumi’s family wasn’t taking well to the news either.

Sitting on both sides of her were her grandmothers. On her left was her father's mom, Ursa; Grandmother as Izumi calls her. She lives in the palace, so she had gotten there early. In fact, unable to sleep, Ursa was wandering the halls when she heard the crackling of Izumi’s flames as she attempted to firebend her way out of her earlier situation. Ursa saw the bandit run out of her room when she opened her door, Izumi’s throwing an arrow wrapped in lightning on her way out for good measure. She was the first one there to console her, her arms holding her eldest grandchild close and tight for dear life.

Her mother’s mom, Gran, was the last to arrive after the break-in traveled inside the family. They didn’t want it to get out to the public, but as soon as Michi got the messenger hawk, she took a carriage here as quickly as she could. Being close by and living in the capital meant she didn’t have to travel far. She took her granddaughter’s hands in her own and kissed the young woman’s temple as they rocked back and forth now, as they have been for the past hour.

Meanwhile, her parents both charged in frantically, her father with a furious fire engulfing his fist and her mother aiming several knives at anything that moved. Currently, her dad was shouting at the captain of the royal guards and her mother was staring out the window with her friend and sister-in-law, Azula. They seemed to have her same idea, if not for a more pragmatic reason than her; she only did it because she couldn’t get the image out of her mind, but they were on surveillance. 

Her Aunt Azula came a bit later after doing a quick scavenge around the palace to make sure she wasn’t hiding out somewhere. Then, she came here with the rest of the family and soon accompanied Mai in keeping watch. Hisa arrived just before that, doing her best to look over her cousin for injury until a healer arrived; or so she said, but Izumi believed the girl merely didn’t know what to do.

Her other aunt, Kiyi, and Uncle Tom were both out scanning the palace’s outer walls and nearby areas in the city for any sign of the runaway. Her Uncle Tom was a Major in the Fire Nation’s naval forces and had only recently returned from deployment, so he was visiting the family. Perfect timing she supposed. Izumi would be surprised if the thirty-three year old didn’t personally check the ports himself. Her Aunt Kiyi, on the other hand, was in the nation’s army. Despite not being related by blood, they were best friends; two peas in a pod. They practically grew up together since their older siblings were married to each other. Izumi was used to a big family. It made sense they went out on patrol together.

Between all the hollering and gentle words spoken back and forth to her, Izumi was near her limit. She was glad to have them here, but after what just happened, she couldn’t think straight. She felt like she was being watched, it made her skin crawl.

All the firebender could ponder was the future. What if this happens again? What if someone else tries to finish the job? What if it becomes a regular tradition? What if she invokes more acrimony? What if they finally figure out the key to success? What if she can’t defend herself next time?

What if this is only the beginning? What if it never ends?

Suddenly, amidst the chaos of the royal family, her door burst open again. At first, everyone expected it to be Tom-Tom and Kiyi, but instead the presence of a noble scholar hushed the squabbling in the room. 

Izumi’s stare immediately froze and centered on the tall man. His coffee colored hair appeared limp, in disarray with what she assumes is sweat. His cheeks are pink from work and slightly out of breath, if his ragged breathing is any indicator. It was as though he ran all the way here from his house on the other side of the city. 

Slouched against the door, trying his hardest to stand upright once he caught his breath, the jeweler appeared anxious, his brain buzzing with concern. It startled Izumi to see him in such a state, but when their lost orbs met, she had forgotten why. “A-Apologies, my lord.” He hurriedly bowed to her parents and then to her, every movement mastered to perfection even in his rattled condition. He cleared his throat. “I-I received a messenger hawk, heard what happened. I’ve come to offer my services in catching the cretin, my lord. I may not be a guard, but the sentinels in my territory are ready to search the outer city while yours remain here. Hopefully they will be of use, your majesty.” As he spoke, Izumi couldn’t tell who he was addressing, but he sounded eager to aid - like a gentleman.

While Izumi couldn’t pry her glance away from him, one curious look from Hisa told Izumi who had written to him. She didn’t mind, in fact, she was grateful. “Thank you, Odalis, that’s a clever idea. We will take you up on that offer.” Zuko exclaimed astutely, the hoarse panic still blurred in his voice, but the news had brought him some comfort it would seem.

The graying Firelord waved his hand away at the guard he was yelling at in dismissal as Odalis moved away from the doorway to give him room, making sure he doesn’t step a toe into the princess’ room without invitation, per the norm. Now it was Mai’s turn to clear her throat, staring daggers out the horizon one last time as she turned away from the window, her face as unreadable as ever. “We’ll give you two the room. Come, we’re all suffocating her.” She beckoned the others to follow suit, her feet pointed towards the doorway while her taupe irises fixated on her daughter’s, waiting for a sign to halt her retreat instead. 

No such notion was to be found, so they left.

Odalis continued to stand outside her door, uncertain. Not because he didn’t want to come in, how his fingers couldn’t rest told the twenty-four year old that he was miserable out in the hall, but because he didn’t know if she wanted him there. 

Izumi abhorred the thought, watching him standing there conflicted felt like a fireball to the stomach; it made her sick. This minute, he was the only thing she wanted. 

There once was a time where Izumi wondered if she might be with him. Six odd years ago when he first moved back to the Imperial City for work; they spent a lot of hours catching up. The more she was with him the less she wanted to go without him. For someone who adored and preferred the silence, the sound of his benevolent voice made her never wish for the quiet again. It was still his soft tone that she heard in her head sometimes when found herself longing for his company. 

At one point, when she discovered how far and saccharine her feelings for him had went, she hoped - pined - for something to happen between the duo. Perhaps she was to blame in equal measure for never being the one to risk rejection, but it was entirely her fault that he hadn’t chosen to risk it all either. 

Her duty to her nation and her crown always came first. It was more than difficult to make time for outing after outing with everyone in her life and such heavy a job at her feet. As princess and now well into her twenties, she was in charge of much. The pale girl took her responsibilities to new heights, always seeking ways to improve and laws to study. Between those tasks and reading and visiting her cousins overseas, making time for her grandmother at the flower shop, sparring with her parents, lunch with Hisa and Azula, she simply had no room in her life for love. 

More so, Izumi even figured that her eventual union would merely be a business proposition. Some of the council members suggested Bumi, being the eldest son of the Avatar and a firebender himself, but he was too close to family for her to wed, at least to her. Bumi agreed with her. The reality of her heart was that she would do almost anything for her people and she wasn’t ashamed of that, even if it meant never giving herself a chance to fall in love. 

So while she dreamed of the man standing in front of her, though she was aware of how he made her chest swell and stomach flutter, her priorities have always been elsewhere. After a few years, Odalis moved on as well, if he ever shared her sentiments that is. He was even engaged to a fellow noble for a short time over two years ago, but the relationship fell through. As a friend, he waxed poetic about not being right for each other and not being able to forgive himself for marrying someone he didn’t love, bestowing a strange sense of relief to the selfish heir in doing so. Since, he’s sworn he’d never force love, when the day comes that it surpasses even his studies, he’ll welcome it with open arms. Until then, he’ll continue to enjoy burying himself in crystals and ancient agates.

In light of his hesitation, Izumi could no longer hold her face together and it fell, desolately, all but reaching out to the man across from her.

He answered her call right away.

Doing away with verbal confirmation, Odalis instantly rushed in, his lean arms wide and appealing. The way he slid onto the foot of the bed next to her could only be described as a crash, but it wasn’t hurtful nor striking. The way his affectionate grip embraced her was ardent and obliging and oh how Izumi melted into him when he pulled her close. The passion in which she held him with was one of which she’d never experienced before. Normally, Izumi would go out of her way to remain put-together and collected in front of others, even friends, but such an inkling had perished the second he was near before it even had a chance to surface.

The woman with ebony hair cared nothing of propriety in that moment as she dropped her head into the crook of his neck, allowing the tears she’s tamed to decorate his shoulder without a second thought. Now she was truly bare, but this time she couldn’t bring herself to feel upset about it. It was a blessing. 

Slowly, reverently, her comrade soothed her ears with delicate whispers and mumblings she was only half able to hear, but they calmed her storms all the same. It was as though her worries had dropped all their defenses and surrendered to him happily. The monarch permitted her hands to wrinkle his carmine cloak while she laid to rest her impervious disguise in his lap. Izumi couldn’t explain what had come over her, but she knew that it meant the world - he meant the world to her - and for that, she couldn’t bring herself to regret it.

The bookworm realized then as he ran his fingers through her hair with enamored propensity beyond the likes mere friends would suggest, that he stilled the world for her.

Odalis enveloped her fears away, he warmed every inch of her skin that he had touched, and filled her with solace for the first time since she woke up to the masked intruder in the corner of her chambers; knowing without debate that he was the only one that could. He brought surety back to her lungs, sanctity to these penetrable walls, and in turn that gave her peace; even as she continues to shed a few tears.

Because he was more than that.

He was so much more than that.

Whatever he had that no one has did, she thanked the spirits for it. As someone who has everything they could ever want, that has more privilege than anyone deserves and a loving family people would kill for, she was so grateful that she was granted one more luxury; something she wasn’t sure anymore that she could live without. She was grateful for him and she wouldn’t let him pass her by anymore; he had to know exactly how much he meant to her.

No more wasted time and vacant potential. Izumi planned on never letting him go again. The Fire Nation may be her duty to her people and she wouldn’t give up or vacate her responsibility to them in the slightest, but being with him was her duty to herself and she was done deeming it less important. She hopes he can forgive her. She would give him all of the time she had left if he let her. He may not have given birth to the power of dragons or seep life into firebenders all around the world, but what he did have he gave to her and to Izumi, that was more than enough.

He was her new sun and all she wanted to do from now on is shine together.

Chapter Text

“Might I have everyone’s attention for a moment!” A man called out boisterous, his voice a deep velvety tune that startled anyone that wasn’t paying him any mind. Everyone ceased their chatting however, and faced this man at the head of the podium-like platform in front of them. “To start off this showing, I would first like to acknowledge the person that made all of this possible. To Princess Izumi, I believe I speak on behalf of all of us when I thank you for what you have done today! For all the work and precious time that brought this vision of yours to life. You didn’t have to do all of this, but you did and you didn’t stop until it was a reality! I know that you have healed not just our land and our health, but our hope in this nation once again! To the Princess!”

Suddenly, all at once, everyone in attendance raised their glasses or even their hands if they didn’t have one. As the pale woman gaped out at them all down the podium ahead of her, not a single person was left behind and bitter. They all seemed mirthful and that meant more to her than any gesture of appreciation. “To the Princess!” They repeated the man at the front with a boom in their united cheer, the wave of impact they made almost rumbling the ground at their feet. 

With a nudge from her mother sitting next to her, Izumi got up and gave them a smile, one she didn’t bother to restrain like she normally would; she wanted them to feel how much their praise and their happiness delighted her. She waved then, part of her wishing she could reach out and embrace every single one, but then the man who made the speech - a local ex-factory worker she’s been collaborating with on the project - approached her and they gave one another a respectful bow. 

A gentleman from behind gave her a pair of ridiculously large shears. Once she took it in her hands, her guests stilled before her, waiting. Izumi felt her body bubbling up with excitement. However, before she let her hands inch closer to the silk red sash separating her from her citizens, she spun around and took one last gander at the structure they recently built behind her. 

The industrial revolution had done wonders for their lands, especially in the war effort to her mournful consideration, but it had also left behind a poison with it. A poison the Fire Nation felt most of all. Their factories and machines and byproducts of their inventions sprinkled toxins in their water and soil, their air and even their people as a result of their ingenious new way of work. Once her father took the crown, he did all he could to make the factories more friendly to the environment; getting rid of them all together would put the nation at a disadvantage in case of an attack and put many civilians into poverty now that their jobs had been abolished. Yet, in those years, the factories have continued to become a problem throughout their nation and Izumi had grown tired of sitting idly by watching it.

The golden orbed girl got rid of many high-maintance and low-employed factories around her country. Although instead of tearing the factories to the ground, the monarch built something new in its place. It was still a place of work, to make things their village needs, but it was now powered by hand. Whether that was the hand of a bender or not, mattered little. It might have made production harder, but it kept the people around and business steady and she hoped it would become a place to help bridge the gap between benders and non-benders alike. It even had a break-room with a library and small field for games around the back fit for even their children to play while they were busy earning a living.

She implemented these changes in a fourth of the factories in the Fire Nation, so far bringing life back to the nature surrounding more than half of them already; all while maintaining the net income for all the villages they’re in. Izumi even arranged for a small - but hopefully beneficial - amount of the profits to go to the villages that did not undergo these changes to help where they can. It was a plan she had articulated zealously since she was thirteen. She despised seeing her people miserable and even as a new teenager, knew it was her job to help them. It took years of planning and years after that to get started and to the finished path they’re at now, but as she admires all the merry grins staring out at her today, she knew it was well worth it.

So, after letting her own smirk fall back to its gentle form on her face, Izumi returned to face the sash once again and cut it with a sense of pride that felt too wide to fit in her slender body. The people erupted into a bout of off-beat clasps and whistles, their synchronized plaudits sounding sweeter than the beating base of a Kakko. 

The raven-haired firebender gave them all one last formal wave, her cheeks beginning to ache from all her grinning, and stepped back down for everyone to come in and explore the factory. Many did, but several stayed outside to finish their drinks and food, socializing with the other people of the village and specialists that helped turn her dreams into flesh. The orderly princess politely declined any and all offers of shōchū and amused herself at gawking out at the spirit of the people surrounding her. She’s hardly seen them so joyous. She saw them banter and smile and point at the new labs now available to them; and Izumi couldn’t remember having done anything better in her entire life.

Pulling her out of silent revere, Izumi felt a hand at her shoulder, kindly squeezing its side in a way only family could. She was proven right when the words of her father rang out in the air between them, interrupting her quiet regard of the event with her mother right beside him. Since they were out in public, all three royals bowed to each other before she was pulled into a ginger hug; Izumi feeling their vindication as though it were her own with nothing more than their touch. However, when they pulled apart, their notion felt more than mere obligation and reputation, but something vastly more intimate. While she didn’t have doubts, that bow gave her the assurance of knowing she did the right thing and so it meant more to her than they would ever know.

“You have done something spectacular, Izumi; monumental. These people, they will always remember this and how you lived up to the trust they put in your hands. Soak it in, turtle-duck. You’ve earned it.” The Firelord announced to his daughter with a glimmer of love and relief dancing across his scarred features. She knows he’s worried in the past about making sure she understands the values and lessons he struggled with growing up along his journey, so to see him glance at her this way - she presumes he finally felt she’d learned them.

Izumi would have to agree. It was one thing to hear it, to be lectured by her parents about things she wouldn’t have to ponder until she was an adult, but another to enact them as she has today. “As I will continue to do.” She nodded to her father astutely and proper while promising to cultivate her work-ethic in the decades to come. Someone would have to kill her to stop it.

Then, as the girl pushed her gold spectacles further up her nose, her caring irises fell onto her mother, or more specifically her placid but accomplished smirk decorating her even paler skin. “You’ve done well, hoshi. Don’t forget that.” Short and simple and straight to the point with a hint of penchant to her voice whispering around the ears; just the way Izumi knows and loves.

The twenty-eight year old daughter mimicked her mother’s ghost-like grin, but before either could say another word, there was a tender touch at both her elbows and Izumi didn’t need to see who it was to immediately lean into them. “Pardon me your majesties, but I was hoping to steal a word. I vow that she is in good hands.” The soft-spoken man piped up to her parents, his rulers, with a familiar jest and comfortability to his tune that set Izumi’s heart alight in her chest. 

“Already?” Mai remarked equally teasing, even if it was a rather monotone reply.

Both middle aged monarchs soothingly chuckled, the sound lenient and warm-hearted, exchanged between family. “Of course, don’t let us keep you.” Zuko nodded with a kiss to his daughter’s hand to signal a goodbye before delicately gripping his wife’s and resuming their stroll through the village. 

The new duo began to walk in the other direction, their arms instinctually wrapping around one another’s as though they were tethered, but she wouldn’t want it any other way. It took everything she had in her not to tilt up her chin to kiss him on the cheek, but she refrained and insisted she would lather him with all her pent up affection once they return to the palace; it would be their first night in her own chambers since they went on leave two moons ago. “Whisking me away to gloat or fraternize?” She nearly giggled when she opened her mouth, her partial eyes glued to his the moment he approached.

Patting the back of her hand fondly, Odalis shook away more of his laughter, putting on a conventional stare suitable for the public eye, but the expression fit his handsome sophistication perfectly. “I am but a simple man and so I am not ashamed to say that I always gloat with you on my arm, love.” He complimented candidly, humbly, pleasantly.

“That did not answer my query, love.” She redirected sternly, but not even her assiduous nature could conceal her endearment for him.

He huffed as he chuckled, his lips now spread generously wide. “Some people were begging for an audience with you. I knew you’d want to greet them. Are you ready, Princess?” His long dark hair shook as he motioned to the villagers gathered in groups around them, every part of him captivating her.

Picking her up rose robe pooling at her feet, Izumi gave his arm an elated tug and nodded her approval. “I am, thank you. Please, let’s.” The heir affirmed to the scholar with more affection than she typically allowed outside closed doors.

The couple spent the following two or so hours greeting guests, engaging in a few minutes worth of conversation with each group. It was only polite to do so and truthfully, Izumi rejoiced in listening to them, it wasn’t something she got to do often, but hearing what her people had to say - what glee they found in their daily lives - was a pastime she was particularly fond of. Of course, it wasn’t traditional to stay for long, so she tried not to stretch the prattle out, but it was easier said than done.

As a mother and daughter pair trekked up to their princess, Izumi permitted her usually strict demeanor to mellow out once noticing their nerves. The two woman bowed to Izumi and Odalis, venturing too far down and almost knocking themselves over, however no one said anything of it while the couple nodded to the villagers in return as a silent thank you. “It is lovely to meet you.” Izumi started temperately, her notes sounding the definition of tepid like she’d once practiced as a girl.

The daughter had immediately flashed the bender a charming smile spreading from ear to ear at hearing a member of her royal family welcome them. It almost scared Izumi, but in the most blissful way. Her nation’s youth has always astounded her; all youth in fact. She saw the future in them and she was glad to have inspired some in any way she can. “Lovely indeed your highness, the honor is ours entirely. W-We just wanted to thank you for doing this and for-for coming all this way to our village in celebration of it.” The redwood eyed girl - who couldn’t be older than twelve - responded to her princess passionately, the way she couldn't stop herself from bouncing was nothing but jubilant and adorable.

The girl’s elderly mother beamed at the couple ahead of her, using her tween daughter for balance. “Yes, we are beyond grateful for your courtesy, your highness. Your graciousness will not be forgotten. Please, I hope this can serve as a token of our gratitude. It is not much, but they are beautiful, so we believe they will match you nicely.” The woman claimed, bereft of any wickedness, and Izumi quickly wished to mirror that benevolence; give it back, pay it forward.

Then, the woman extended out her hands to the officials in front of her, Izumi glancing down to find a basket of flowers in her hands; Flaming Camellias to be exact. While Izumi didn’t believe in accepting gifts for doing the right thing nor serving her country, she also knew that it was disrespectful to refuse gifts and she didn’t want to disappoint the woman. “You’re right, they are as resplendent as the woman who grew them.” The pale master took one without hesitation, admiring the pink tint to their petals with awe.

“It was the least we could do. We are in your debt.” Her daughter chimed in again, eager to speak to the monarch. A small village girl talking to the princess? Izumi guessed that would earn her a lot of popularity in school tomorrow. Looking back, it was almost ironic that someone who detested standing out and tripping her way through avoiding embarrassment would grant another so much attention.

That was when Izumi shook her head at the black haired relatives, her straight-laced disposition appearing back on her face in a split second. “Far from it.” She professed sensibly, her seriousness telling them to believe it while the wisp of comity that continued to flicker in her golden irises made sure they wouldn’t be intimidated by it either - as she’s been told before some people are.

Now it was the mother that answered, pulling the basket close to her chest as though it were a treasured heirloom. “You have done so much for us, both of you.” She persisted genially, her tune exuding compassion. 

As if just now entering the conversation, Odalis charmed the villagers with a merciful and humane smile. “She is the mastermind behind all this, please. I merely aided where I could, but this hard work was woven by her hands, I assure you.” The gem expert admitted to them amiably, his presence benign and inviting, it even made the girl snicker.

Izumi ignored the somersaults her stomach was doing at hearing him commend her, keeping herself as poise as ever while she watched them chuckle. “It was just what we needed, your highness.” The older woman ended with another bow, likely seeing the futility in going back and forth over it all, something Izumi was thankful for as she nodded back to her. She was glad it did some good.

“How did you find the time to finish this and plan your wedding?” The energetic girl aired out her curiosity, the comment spoken entirely with esteem and wonderment, such as the innocent do.

The prince and princess struggled to prevent their cheeks from turning red, the both of them unable to resist from peering at the other adoringly as they recalled their wedding two months ago. “She’s a born multi-tasker; she can do anything.” Her groom reasoned with commitment and a levity that made the heir feel like she was flying.

 As the mother laughed, no doubt seeing the semblance of young love between the newlyweds, the daughter almost jumped in gaiety. “Well, thank the spirits for that!” 

Eventually, after another round of appreciation, the royals excused themselves and started aimlessly roaming the village on their own. They didn’t speak for the first few minutes, merely reveling in the sense of community and achievement, but Izumi heard the sound of their contentment all the same. If words can’t live up to how you feel, why use them at all?

Once the duo were on the outskirts of the celebration, close by so people wouldn’t lose them, but far away enough to only be figures in the distance, their feet halted. “What you’ve done, what you always do, is brillant, Iz.” He began, the divine sound of his words making her pulse quicken. “I’m proud of you.” It wasn’t condensing or vain, but venerational in a way that went hand-in-hand with hers like a puzzle. She loved it when he talked like that.

Rather than thanking him, something she’s done a thousand times, or taking all the time to explain to him how much it means to her to hear him say so, Izumi finally waved away her obstinate decorum and allowed her arms to flood around the man’s back as she closed the searing space keeping them apart. In his arms, they felt like one. “The feeling is mutual.” She devoutly declared, hoping it would accurately sum it all up to him, it was a technique they have become masters of over the years they courted.

Both of them knowing nothing else could describe to them how they were feeling, the couple slowly leaned in and communicated with a single kiss. It was long and ardent and a gesture Izumi could feel in every ounce of her body. They refused to part, now doubtful on how much she needed to breathe when she had him in front of her, but suddenly the pair overheard the violent noise of a whistle over from the village.

The husband and wife gently broke apart to gape over at the few human-shaped frames over from whence they came; two were waving. Izumi did not want to know which one of her cousins those were, but from the familial way they were taunting her - she knew it had to be some of them here to congratulate her. 

She grins, torn between a puff and a laugh, as she and Odalis locked their arms together once again and made their way up the village’s hill, completely and utterly happy.

Chapter Text

Izumi has never been so out of breath.

The Princess of the Fire Nation sat in her bed made of satins and silk, a red so dark it was nearly black while it wrapped around the lower half of her body. It was now slick and sodden with the woman’s sweat among other things, but at least it was quiet. The only noise that could be heard in the room was the faint bustle of her healers scrambling about the place to clean up some after the storm.

Perhaps storm wasn’t the best word for it however. She’s heard of it being much more horrific for other women than it was for Izumi, why her own mother went through much harder challenges. In truth, Izumi has tried to keep herself calm as today kept creeping closer and closer, but now that it was over, she realized that she didn’t have anything to be afraid of; this time anyway.

Her chest was heaving, but her healer helped with the pain, making every other muscle in her body bearable - if not exhausted. Izumi feels as though she’s been bending for a week straight, as if she had just climbed ten sets of the stairs at the Sun Warriors’ hideout. Her legs felt like jelly, yet for a second, she was afraid she'd sink right through the floor.

Then he’s at her side, his mouth lingering next to her ear before planting a clement kiss to the back of her head. Izumi’s sigh then was how she let it all go, flowing through her body like a flame in the wind. Now her heat wasn’t uncomfortable, but warm and she didn’t feel alone. The raven haired royal leaned behind into her husband beside her, his arms sheltering her from whatever got too close, both of them absolutely enchanted by the person she was cradling. He got her heart pumping faster, but somehow it didn’t feel erratic or dangerous, just content.

Everyone around them turned into blurs and shadows, the earth under their feet was frozen. Time didn’t pass, her advisors didn’t call, no one spoke a single word. It was perfect.

He was perfect.

With a little tuft of jet-black hair, skin so pale he could blend into the snow, and a nose that scrunched even when he was sleeping. Izumi memorized every centimeter of his face. His full rounded cheeks, the dimple on his tiny chin and cheeks, even the bags under his new eyes. His little ears and long eyelashes, his disarrayed brows and swollen jaw. Even newly born and he was the most beautiful thing she’d seen in all her life.

Izumi was proud to say she considered herself a well decent person. She knew she was kind and caring, patient and understanding, she tried her whole life to be so. Her heart went out to thousands daily, it encompassed her entire nation even when she was asleep. She’d never thought about anything else. From the minute she could talk, Izumi dedicated her life to other people and aside from sharing that burden with her husband, Izumi has never wavered in that devotion nor felt regret about putting them first. 

Staring down her wonderful son however, she felt her heart multiply, the arms in which she could embrace had grown in size; nearly doubled. She realized the very moment he was laid against her fatigued chest that he had risen above them all. He stood at the top of the world in her mind and there was no one that could compete with him. Suddenly, it was imbued in her nature to think of him always, to worry about her boy first, before anyone else. Even her country. They didn’t stand a chance against this little one. 

For once, what she would do for him went beyond the realm of reason, it burned in her veins and honestly, Izumi wasn’t even scared.

There isn’t anything she wouldn’t do for that small human being.

“Spirits, he’s your twin, Iz.” Odalis chuckled fondly, Izumi’s never heard that endearing tone in his voice before; it was completely born with the welcoming of their son. “Sharp features, hair straight as a sword. He’s incredible; finer than any jewel.” 

Now it was Izumi’s turn to laugh, a little jagged, but hearty just the same and it consumed her whole chest with regard. There wasn’t even a proper word for it - attachment, affection - whatever it was Izumi felt like she was drowning in it, and she would do so gladly. “Jest all you want, Odalis, but have you seen those dimples? All three of them are entirely from you; he’s lucky too. He’ll be a right handsome young man one day and take after you. He’ll be a good man. We’ll make sure of it.” She didn’t know what to say, the both of them merely wasted the minutes in idle bliss gawking down at the glorious boy they created together. 

She was awe-struck and all he had done was cry; such a sound has never been so felicitous. 

A tear wet Izumi’s shoulder, bleeding through her robe her birthing team haphazardly threw on her before Odalis could come in; as though it were anything he hadn’t already seen before, but Izumi didn’t mind. It was good etiquette. She knew his tears were ones of joy. “You’re hopelessly in love with him too, huh?” He questioned her delightedly, tune so gaye she nearly couldn’t understand it, but it drew her in like a moth to a flame.

Izumi finally allowed her head to drop into its home on his shoulder, feeling like it belonged there more than anywhere else in the world. Beside him is always where she wants to be, no matter the day or trial ahead. The path of parenthood that lay ahead of her was perhaps the most terrifying she’s tread, but as she admired her lover’s face beside her, his taupe eyes glistening and sunlight making his glee skin glow, she knew they could face it. She knew they’d be alright, more than that, she had faith in the both of them to do it well.

There is no one else she’d rather be here with. If the world were to end in this moment, Izumi enveloped in their home with both of her boys beside her, there isn’t anything else she could ever want. 

 “Thank you.” She whispered in his ear so only he could hear, her words close to sacred and enamored; her free hand’s fingers outlining the curve of his jaw.

Odalis, his sweet face and adoring expression, didn’t need to hear any more to know what she meant, to feel what she normally kept too close to her chest. He always knew. “And you, my love, and you.” They sealed their tender vow with a quick kiss that was anything but mediocre. It was one she would remember for the rest of her life. 

After another few minutes of worship and sanctity, the monarch heard someone clear their throat. She turned her head to gaze in front of her and saw one of her maids, her head down, but a smile so wide it couldn’t be concealed. “Excuse me, your highnesses, but Firelord Zuko and Fire Lady Mai are at the door. May I let them in or would you like more time?” She canvassed the couple plainly, slightly off-centered as she too continues reeling for the few hours of labor she helped her princess with. 

Before Izumi could turn to him, Odalis was waving them in with positive certainty and jubilation. The rulers didn’t need to be told twice. As soon as the servant approached the door, the married couple was already in before she could finish nodding. The way they entered with a spring in their step gave Izumi the only look she’s ever had of what they might’ve appeared like in their youth; their portraits don’t do the two justice. Now however, they certainly looked like their vigor had returned. 

Even as people as relaxed as she’s known them to be, while they walked up to her coolly, Izumi could still notice how their cheeks were tinted pink in excitement and their eagerness to get closer to the younger duo. Izumi’s father had shaped his noble features into a smile that seemed as though it conveyed to everyone all the joy he’s ever experienced in his life. Though it did not part his lips, it was a sight only his family had the gift of seeing. 

Her mother on the other hand, adopted a smirk that almost looked a little sad, but it couldn’t be farther from the truth. Her face had naturally been rather stiff and stuck in the deadpan everyone was used to, but here she was as gentle as Izumi’s ever seen her. It was the expression of a mother passing the torch to another. Neither parent’s grin was overly enthusiastic, something she inherited from them both, but Izumi could see right through it to the heart of their affinity; she even saw them shine.

“How’s my turtle-duck?” Zuko compassionately asked as they made their way over to her bed, keeping his distance per protocol as her mother ignored any sentiments separating her from her daughter. 

Izumi gave her father a glance, one they have shared too many times to recount over her thirty-three years of life; it was partially sober and somewhat dulcet at the same time and he knew exactly how to read it. “In the thick of it.” She played, her words just now gathering back their strength, lips trying to stick together, but she was happy.

“I told you she was stellar; she had it the whole time.” Mai recalled as she deftly fiddled with her daughter’s hair, coffee colored orbs immediately bewitched by her grandson without a care in the world.

Izumi let her head lean against her mom’s as her silent thanks for being there for her during the birth. She held her hand in Odalis’ place as he and her father were outside the door waiting, she didn’t even wince as Izumi squeezed it for dear life. “Never doubted, and how about our littlest duck?” He continued to inch closer as gradually as he could stand, as if the moment called for fragility. 

Both Odalis and Izumi smirked at one another, the muscles in her face hardly moving at all, but with a nod, the new mother wordlessly reached out to her beloved parents. It wasn’t a question, but an invitation and they both took it honorably, their movements keen and cherished. She gingerly set her greatest treasure in their hands, both grandparents holding him as close as they could get, and already Izumi felt the emptiness without him like a knife in her breast. 

Watching them rock their tiny prince made the feeling lessen; float away. Izumi loved her parents more than anyone knew, they were her entire world for most of her life. Now that world included both her husband and their son, but they were still the origin of her light and her charity and everything that made her who she is. So, to see them with a child of her own - cooing to him and all - the firebender thought she was fit to burst with merriment. 

All four parents in that room could spend the entire day doing as they were now, soaking in all the prosperity in this palace. 

On a whim, Izumi turned to her partner and found him mimicking her, both casting a sideways glance at each other that was knowing; thrilling even. She reached up and he met her halfway, grabbing her hand and permitting it to fit and fill the grooves of his palms the way it always had. He nodded and she could barely contain herself. “What are you smiling about?” Mai didn’t even gawk up at the princess as she inquired, but somehow her mother always knew when something was afoot; it’s a talent really.

“Mother, Father,” Izumi began, the way she sat and how she held herself still the epitome of regal, but jovial too. Izumi had never been this giddy before, even so, she kept her demeanor tranquil and temperate; per usual. “I want to introduce the two of you to Prince Iroh. His name is Iroh, Dad.” The built-up was delicate, lacking the flair of dramatics, but they had hardly been used to describe any of them. She liked it better this way.

In response to her serene revelation, Izumi watched as her parents took it in. Her mother reacted first, her available arm gracefully tightening her hold around her father, wrapping it piously around the back of his neck, as she leaned in to kiss his cheek; feeling her husband’s gratitude as though it were her own. She was happy for him and upon hearing the name of someone who had become her family through the years she was married to his nephew, Mai even huffed with a grin; her gesture reeking with nostalgia and an easygoing mirth she hasn’t seen since he died. 

Meanwhile, the Firelord merely held his grandson closer, placing the boy’s first ever kiss upon his forehead with the utmost care and proclivity. His wife wiped the fifty-eight year old’s tears from dripping down his chin. “It’s a magnificent name, Izumi.” He choked out between nods and lingering looks of love.

“It’s a powerful name.” Odalis concurred, his features softening as he went back to adore his son again from afar.

He didn’t mean powerful in terms of bending or governance, but wisdom and the hard-fought harmony her parents’ generation had nurtured; won. Izumi and Odalis struggled figuring out what to name their child. Once her Aunt Katara told them it was a boy, neither of them able to withstand waiting, they began pondering. None of the first handful fit and so the pair took a break on brainstorming, she presumed that if she let it happen, the perfect name might just come to her. Typically, she wasn’t a procrastinator, but being princess gave her a lot of other duties to resolve. 

Being a country’s heir didn’t pause simply because she was pregnant.

When it never came to her, Izumi listened to all the names Odalis had scribbled on some parchment month after month, but while they were all lovely names, none of them felt like they fit quite right. The next night, she dreamt of her great uncle. He passed away when she was but a child, though she remembers him well. He taught her pai sho, helped her grow some lotus flowers in the garden, and made even better tea than her dad. Those nights when it wasn’t just her father that went out to fight as part of Team Avatar, but her mother as well - he was the person she stayed with. All night he and her Grandmother Ursa would comfort her. He was the softest, most ardent singer Izumi has ever heard; his lullabies put her right to sleep and she couldn’t wait to try it on his namesake.

She learned a lot from him and while she always figured that she never got to learn it all, he was still teaching her. If it wasn’t for him, her father wouldn’t be the man he is today and so neither would she. Her vision of peace is what his nephew followed, the duty he served with a gentle fist. His tea shop was one of her favorite places in the world. She still thinks of him when she hears a Tsungi Horn. It was his dream that twinkled in her like a star. A dream he passed onto Zuko and he to her; a dream she had every intention of passing onto her son. So, it only seemed fair that he should bear his name as well. There wasn’t any that suited him more.

She was worried Odalis might not share her opinion, but had forgotten he entertained him and his siblings too when they would visit. When she suggested it, somehow they spent the remainder of the night reminiscing on stories about him; she hasn’t laughed that hard in weeks. It was clear to both of them then, that their son had a name.

When Izumi came to, they were all hugging, the notion having slipped past her notice, but she enjoyed the huddle. Every face she saw was one she loved.

“Your majesties?” A different servant called, this was her father’s as he approached the group of five respectfully. “Lady Ty Lee and Master Haru are here to see their grandson, your Highnesses. As is Captain Bumi and his wife. Should I tell them to wait?” 

Izumi wasted absolutely no time in shaking her head. Her parents had met him, it was about time her in-laws did too. She chuckled as the servant left to escort them to her chambers. Ty Lee and her mother sharing a grandchild? She should brace herself for a lot of squealing from Ty Lee. Haru will likely be pulling his wife off of Mai in less than three minutes, but that’s family for you.

Now a Captain in the United Forces, Bumi is usually off on deployment recently, but he’s returned from his latest tour a few months prior and was snug as a bug here in the Fire Nation with his wife and kids, not far from the former’s family home. They don’t live in the Capital, so it’ll take him slightly longer, but he was definitely going to arrive before the rest of her family. Despite knowing it would spoil her serenity, she hoped the others would get here soon. Aunt Katara especially since she was to complete her post-birth check-up; to say she trusted anyone else to do it as well would be a blatant lie, though she’s sure the healers here are plenty capable of doing a good job. Odalis’ brother and sister will join them as well, Hua will likely arrive with Hanae seeing as they are both Kyoshi Warriors.

In less than an hour, Izumi’s Aunt Kiyi and Azula, Hisa, and grandparents will also arrive. It is going to get crowded in here real quick, not something Izumi is particularly fond of, but to see the smiles on their faces as they come in and see the wee prince won’t be something she’ll be able to forget. Soon, her room was about to become a circus full of her contradicting, loud-mouth, but oh so fun and charismatic family. Though they can be wild, Izumi can’t wait to have them meet her boy. She knows her cousin Hanae is going to swoon all over him. They were her best friends and she was going to show them how joyous this kid has made her if it was the last thing she did.

She knows she’ll have a good time having them around. That was perhaps the only downside of being a royal, she can’t take many vacations. She wished she could see them more, but at least they write. Izumi has always felt as though there was something sophisticated about writing. Her cousins Jolon and Tenzin share these beliefs, but the rest of her family only treats it as a substitute, though she supposed it made sense. She missed their visitation last month; being so close to her due date made it dangerous to travel far, so she’s glad they’re making up that time.

She only hopes Suyin and Kya can refrain from their surplus of inappropriate jokes. They may not be in public and she knows her son can’t understand them, but she didn’t want it to become a habit.

With that thought barely registering in her mind, the doors to her bedchambers opened with a bang. Following them, out walked Ty Lee and Bumi, a comical grin plastered on their faces and arms spread wide for a hug. Bumi - as he always does - didn’t deign to ask if she wanted one, since the answer was usually no, and nearly scooped up the new mother as Ty Lee went to jump into Mai and Odalis like a colliding train. Haru and Bumi’s wife, Emica, strutted in doing damage control. 

The last beat of silence Izumi could recollect hearing that day before said circus all arrived one after the other, was just before Ty Lee seized her daughter-in-law for a cheerful embrace of her own and then it was off to the races.

But hey, who else was going to kill the quiet?

Chapter Text

Zaofu was a heavenly beautiful city. 

It wasn’t always. As Izumi stands in the middle of her little cousin’s ballroom, she can too easily recall when this land was fresh and new. Most might find it difficult to imagine fields and hundreds of bullfrogs where skyscrapers and quaint market streets now sit with the buzz of friendly chatter, but Izumi could see it like it was yesterday.

While Izumi has always known where her life would take her, what she wanted to do when she grew old, and what precisely sparks a passion under her, she was aware that not everyone had that. Being a princess since birth and heir to an entire nation wasn’t the norm, she knew that. Most people didn’t have a mantle to live up to, let alone one so vast. One such person was Suyin Beifong. For so long, she was merely Izumi’s rambunctious little cousin covered in bruises and dirt, always picking fights with anyone that so much as looked at her wrong, and kept pining for her family’s attention; mostly her mother, but her elder cousins were not immune to her antics.

Being the youngest out of the bunch had always been hard for her. She was an entire decade younger that Jolon and herself, so at times, it was difficult to find something the two of them could relate to and having drastically contradicting personalities only extended that gap between them. Izumi was twenty when Su had her tenth birthday and though they were family in every way that mattered, it was hard to see the girl as anything other than a little kid at the time. 

Don’t get Izumi wrong, they write to one another so oft that they never felt their bond drift away despite the incredible distance separating them most of the year. For a reserved and frequently called proper person like Iz, Suyin had always been easier to handle on paper when they could talk about their lives and feelings without shouts or fear of sounding like a gloomy maggot-slug. However, regardless of her rowdy nature, there was this sense of life about Su that never ceased to rejuvenate the princess, even now as she was Firelord she could feel it in her chest as her ship arrived on Zaofu’s shores.

Today, that unruly child is now an adult. Far beyond that, she was an adventurer in her own right - following her mother’s more rebellious footsteps rather than her heroic ones like her elder sister. She had found her purpose upon returning to Republic City, of course, she had in the meantime joined pirates and a traveling circus, but eventually the girl wrote to Izumi with feelings of missing her family. Suyin and Lin settled their differences a few months after she came home and the rest is history. 

It didn’t take long for the young twenty-something to realize that she wanted a city of her own, one of her design, followed by the laws she thought were just, and more importantly - cared about values other than business and politics like her home city; she wanted art. With a sum of money she managed to convince her mother and grandfather into lending her, the go-getter bought a plot of land in the Earth Kingdom and set to work on birthing a community from the ground up. In a couple of years, Suyin married the architect she fell in love with as the both of them put all their tender love and care into the bones of their creation. Now that adventurer has grown into something more. She was the leader of an elite city, a wife, and in the past few years she had even become a mother. 

In fact, the twenty-seven year old mother had just given birth to her second just two months ago. Huan was still in that adorable yet helpless newborn stage that made everyone around him coo, even if he inherited his grandmother’s unamused glare, a look Izumi’s Aunt Toph only donned when she was angry, but it was currently the only expression Huan knew how to make.

This year, Suyin’s lavish city was celebrating it’s one year anniversary since they officially opened the walls and welcomed citizens into its domain. One year later and it was thriving. Most of the occupants are metalbenders or related to one if not themselves - not many non-metalbenders find comfort in a city made entirely of the rigid material - making the benders now a rare commodity outside Zaofu and Republic City, but visitors were encouraged any time of year. Su and her husband, Baatar, were throwing a party in honor of the best year of their lives and her entire family was invited. Baatar's family were some of the first residents of the city, so they of course were around to help set up and now sprinkled in the midst of her own relatives; Izumi hasn’t seen these people since the couple’s wedding.

She made her introductions and then groups were formed as people dispersed and wandered to what attracted them. So much was going on, there were things to do, people to talk to, music to listen to at every corner to appeal to as many guests as possible. In any other gathering, Izumi might have felt some discomfort, but no one can throw a party like Suyin Beifong can. Whenever the woman started to get overwhelmed, all she had to do was turn around and she found another family member to deprive her of the royal’s nerves in a way only they ever could. Her family will never know how much they mean to her.

At some point, the foreigner found herself alone once more - no surprise there - while she silently watched a beautiful dance put on by a few members of Su’s team. The symphony of the chords being strummed by the darling harpist in the corner was divine for lack of a better word, and every beat of these women’s feet matched with the rhythm perfectly. The way they moved their arms and tilted their heads was passionate and quite genteel, but it was their adoring expressions as they allowed themselves to become absorbed in every second of their work that Izumi admired most.

“From the way your eyes are glued to them, I’m assuming you actually understand the message in here somewhere.” It was only half of a presumption and the rest was an unspoken cry for help from the normally abrasive woman coming to a halt beside her beloved cousin.

The master firebender didn’t jump when her focus was pulled away from the show before the pair, but rather elegantly permitted her lips to spread into a small mirthful and respectful grin towards the older Beifong sister with a dip of her head in greeting. Immediately as she did so, the stern cop returned the gesture with a smirk of her own, then the smile only grew warmly when the thirty-one year old dropped her gaze to that of Izumi’s daughter she was currently steadily bouncing in her arms. The princess was asleep and therefore quiet, which is something the almost one year old hasn’t yet determined if she is a fan of quite yet.

For someone who has a child of her own, Lin has never exactly gotten used to them, especially ones that are not hers, but with family, she tries. The scar faced earthbender seems slightly tense, as if not enjoying her time away from work, or more accurately - she feels guilty for appreciating the relaxation. Lin has always despised letting others do things she can do herself, always feeling as though she could do it better, and when it comes to protecting the streets of Republic City; there is no one more dedicated. The thought of something happening while she is gone wasn’t a welcome one, a quality Izumi shares as ruler of her own country. Any time she steps a single foot out of Fire Nation borders makes her nervous until she gets back.

However, the sister takes a deep breath to soothe those worries and crosses her arms to settle her sculpted muscles that were pining for something to do. “I think so. Everyone has a different interpretation of course, but I suspect that they are showcasing their burdens; some they loathe, others they feel ashamed to find bearable, and the ones they bury or embrace because they feel they have to even when they know they shouldn’t.” The mother of two replies at a polished whisper, her voice low and mimicking the sound of a hot summer night.

Lin’s response was to furrow her black brows, her loose waves bouncing atop her head as she befuddledly gawked between the performers and Izumi with her mouth agape. “You got all of that from a few flaps of their hands?” Her mouth curled into a snarl, but there wasn’t any ire to be found in it.

Izumi nodded elegantly, making a show of cocking her head back and forth in deliberation. “I did, but you might see something completely another. That is the miracle of art, though I admit it took me a while to comprehend. I’ve always been rather straight and narrow, or so you would all say. Art is something that has eluded me for years, but the older I get, the more familiar it feels.” Her refined tune was still at a tone some would find stale, speaking with a hush as to not wake her baby girl, but Izumi finds consolation in that.

For a moment, Lin’s face doesn’t move an inch, until eventually both women wound up in a litany of chuckles that sound as though they rhyme; the joy of growing up laughing together clinging to their snickers even now as adults. “I doubt my stubborn eyes will find such enlightenment, but thanks.” Lin’s gravelly voice declared between the dying of their laughter.

At this, the monarch shrugged in the most noble way she could manage it; a trait of her nature she will never outgrow. “Oh, I wouldn’t give up on yourself with such haste, Lin. You seem to like the plays on Ember Island when you visit. That is also art.” She tried with partial jest, her shoulders and last remaining bouts of governing concern mollifying in Lin’s blunt company. 

The pale police captain rolled her emerald orbs at her cousin, but the notion was half-hearted and hints of her smile lines appeared on her face as she refrained from giving in on such a passive attempt. In the end though, Izumi caught her lips stuck in a gentle grin anyway, good enough for the both of them. “Plays have scripts and words to help people like me know what’s going on.”

Astutely nodding her vague agreement, Izumi readjusted her golden glasses and conceded to let Lin put the subject to bed with a content yet subtle smirk. “Alright then.” She said at a distinct mutter, mindlessly rubbing Honora’s back as her small arms hugged her mother’s neck, but once Izumi tilted her head to gape at her cousin, it wasn’t the satisfaction of winning a dispute that she saw on Lin’s face. “You seem preoccupied.” The thirty-seven year old woman remarked with poise at Lin’s far off look. She didn’t wish to pry, so she didn’t ask if something was going on, but then again, she didn’t need her confirmation to see that there was.

Hearing her words, Lin grew even more pensive, if that was possible. She seemed ready to bite her nails and ponder for the rest of the night, something that told Izumi that this wasn’t simply about work. “She waited up for me the other night; Sada.” The woman mentioned her eight year old daughter, the once uncertain accident that has now slowly become the loner’s entire world. The duo spin their backs around in search of the girl when her name is said, fondly observing her playing with Joben, Iroh, Jissika, and Liu when they find her.

“I came home to find her asleep on the couch with one of her bedtime stories in her hand. Mom told me Su and I were the same way, but it doesn’t feel right. I don’t know how she did it. Every moment I’m away from her, I feel sick like I’m missing out on her life, but when I’m absent at work, I feel like I’m not living mine.” She was quiet as though worried that confessing any louder would make it mean something worse, the way she clenched her sturdy jaw to prevent her vibrant eyes from making tears appeared painful as Izumi did her best to merely nod along.

It reminded the ruler of when she first became Firelord last year. She was seven months pregnant with Honora and already raising a four year old son. In that time of her life, she could hardly juggle being a wife and a princess on top of that, let alone Firelord. There were many things in her life that had to give if she also wanted to continue being a good daughter, friend, niece, and cousin. She can’t remember the last time she read a book for fun or went to a play with her father, traversed through town without a political agenda, or even went on a date. Odalis and Izumi get their moments in where they can to retain both their romance and their sanity, but if it wasn’t for being able to lean on him and her parents - and the rest of her family - she would have surely crumbled into a thousand tiny pieces.

Still, even with that support, it took over a year for her to feel somewhat normal again, to feel as though she could breathe without something urgent needing her to attend to it. She knows where Lin is coming from.

Now to put that in words was another story.

The introvert didn’t say anything for a few moments, letting the silence washing over them turn solacing as she continued to rock her child back and forth in her arms, being careful of the knives strapped to her legs, but that was how it came to her. “I wish I could tell you that goes away, but I’m afraid that would be a blatant lie. I can, however, promise you that it gets easier.” She proclaimed kindly in a way only her loved ones are accustomed to.

Lin sighs to herself, preparing her heart to heed her cousin’s advice all the while dreading the possibility of it being something she wouldn’t like. “When she gets older and she begins to understand, you then can find a routine that works for the both of you. Once she starts school, she won’t miss you as much, as she begins to build the foundation of an adolescent life of her own; which is a wound in itself, but it grants some relief with it. While you’re gone, Lin, some notes around the house and special surprises without reason can go a long way. I would tell you not to be so hard on yourself, but I would have better luck getting Tenzin to go to a pro-bending match.” They both chuckled, Lin’s coming out a little suffocated but abated. “Just remember, your mother was the same way and you two have never been closer than you are now. Patience is a virtue and so is resilience, as long as you love her, the relationship can always improve.”

Izumi heard a grinding sound as Lin continued to pull her facial muscles taunt, biting her lip as she stared lovingly yet wistfully at Sada being chased by Kya’s daughter, Jissika. That girl was a carbon copy of her mother, the jet black hair and porcelain skin and orbs that glimmered like trees under the spring sun. Izumi doesn’t know however, if that was a fact Lin loved or detested. “How do you always know what to say?” She cracks out a bittersweet and sarcastic query with a dry shake of her head.

Now it was Izumi’s turn to be surprised. “I beg your pardon, this is a mastered skill, Lin; perfected by agonizing trial and error. My silver tongue was nowhere to be found when I was a kid, as I’m sure you recall.” The not-so-fond memories of her hopeless pubescent awkwardness bring a wince to her sharp features.

Finally, Lin weakly smiled, but that alone was a victory in Izumi’s book. “Oh, I recall plenty.” This time, her chuckle was a little menacing, Izumi painstakingly aware that the Beifong was replaying a compilation of her less than civilized social failures, she could practically see them in the depth of her pupils. “Thank you, Iz.”

“My pleasure.”

When the banter came to a pause, Lin wasted no time and glanced back down to Honora’s chubby cheeks still lackadaisical and out like a light. “How Honora is sleeping through this, I have no spirited idea.” The metalbender pursed, her less vexing way of changing the subject at hand. Lin was full of surprises today, Izumi considered herself lucky Lin bothered to share any of her tribulations at all; she was typically so tight-lipped about nearly anything and everything.

Before either could come up with something new to say, a broad, built figure approached them with his hands behind his back in dignity. “What a marvelous display of fortune. The representation of luck and effort intertwining is splendidly complex.” The tan man described the dance the two women had all but forgotten about in his own fashion, but the only answer he received from his cousins were knowing looks and quirks of their dark brows. “Did I say something?” Their cousin, Jolon, canvassed the two recluses with a shake of his shoulder length auburn hair.

Lin scoffed her clarification to the warrior towering over the both of them while she crossed her arms again and resumed her infamous uninterested glare. “More like I didn’t say enough. As long as Su is happy, this little dance can be about anything she wants.” The city dweller decided with a long puff, clearly still confused about the performers, her previous heart to heart with Izumi now in the past - likely never to be mentioned again.

Jolon hummed his understanding, the Head Chieftain’s deep ocean blue eyes floating back over to the dancers. “Have you told her you are this proud of her?” The non-bender raised his brows in anticipation for her excuse they both knew was coming, but he was always an optimist.

Izumi was the one to scoff now, Jolon’s fingers going to pat the back of Honora’s head tenderly. “My guess would be no.” The Firelord joined her southern cousin, ganging up on Lin was usually the only way to win against her in anything. She may be noble, but even Izumi likes a bit of teasing every now and again.

Lin cleared her throat rather ungracefully, having been caught off guard, and faced the pair of offending relatives as if they had critiqued her in some way. “As a matter of fact, I did get it through my teeth just before I saw you standing here all on your lonesome.” She addressed Izumi with playful defense piloting her movements. “She knows without me having to say it anyway, telling her only strokes her ego, but I figured it was the least I could do seeing as she went through all the trouble of throwing this merry affair for us.” The older sister admitted unenthusiastically, making it feel oddly similar to pulling teeth.

Jolon nodded in a mix of agreement and shock at having been proven wrong before an affectionate laugh escaped him. “She was a wild one, huh? Now she’s so structured - and busy too - running this whole city. I know a thing or two about that myself. Hanae used to be the handful that kept on giving.” The water tribe leader was so soft-spoken and sophic as he talked about his younger sister in his all-natural dad voice.

“Used to be?” The cop snorted in mocking delight, her hand holding onto her chin to keep in the majority of her scoffing laughter.

With an unbelieving shake of her head, the red robed monarch thought about the tales she receives from her letters, the kind of antics that would give Izumi a heart attack if she were around when they took place. “You should see her with Hua. I doubt I will ever understand how they can find order working together in the madness they create over on Kyoshi, but other tactics work for different people, I suppose.” Izumi explained with a huff, but one laced with sentimentality for her cousin and sister-in-law she couldn’t deny.

The father smiled as he clapped for the dancers at the end of their performance, Izumi’s hands being occupied by Honora and Lin’s grimace preventing her from loosening up. “That they do.” Jolon affirmed benevolently.

Just as the babble was seemingly to die and the room was about to come to a still, before the cousins could part to find something else to captivate them, they all heard the pounding of off-beat footsteps draw near. Without warning, the trio of Toph, Sokka, and Aang jumbled their way unceremoniously up the stairs to the stage and started a dance of their own. Sokka and Toph still had drinks in their hands as they began to move their feet. Once the music resumed, something folky and fun, there was no chance anyone would be able to pull them back down.

Tenzin, Jolon, and Lin however, locking startled eyes with one another, appeared to want to try anyhow. Little support came to their aid as the rest of their cousins began chanting their encouragement in a wave of gleeful whistles and cheers. While Lin tried to coax her mother back on the ground, Tenzin attempted to trick Aang that Appa needs attention, and Jolon was simply walking up to the stage to make sure his father’s drunken stumbles doesn’t result in him falling on his head, Kya had opted to give her wife her ale and jumped up on the stage to dance with them. The rest of the family erupted in applause as she did so, only giving the other three more of a headache. 

Finally, Honora was woken up by the ruckus, and Izumi cradled her delicately to her chest in response, her lips pouting in a shushing shape. She knew she should have left her with Odalis while visiting, her schedule was going to get jumbled, but he was also on a mining trip for his work. Nevertheless, Izumi got Honora to dry her tears and before long, the nearly one year old was giggling to her family’s dance moves ahead of her. 

From across the room, Izumi turned her back to see her parents holding one another and calmly having a good time watching their friends trip over themselves. She promptly gave the couple a wordless thank you for being more collected than her aunt and uncles. 

They were quite delightful though, weren’t they?

Chapter Text

Izumi never had siblings, so she doesn’t precisely know how they act, how a set is different or alike.

She had her cousins and watched them interact with their siblings growing up, she also had a very close relationship with Hisa; her parents and aunt used to say they acted more like siblings than Zuko and Azula did for a long time. Still, it remained a hard picture for her to get a grasp on until she began watching Iroh and Honora grow up. 

They were very similar to one another. They were both fairly confident in themselves, something Izumi has tried to nurture without venturing over into arrogance. They were both respectful, but Honora was vastly more open to friendly tease than Iroh was, a trait he only reserved for people he was close with. While they each tended to say what was on their mind, in public they could be quite quiet, but would bloom into a bright smile at a moment’s notice. Shy wasn’t a good word for them, a quality both Izumi and Odalis possessed at their age, but two very focused individuals.

Yet another difference was that Honora’s focus came from her competitiveness, whereas Iroh was more akin to Izumi’s thoughts as he bore the burden of being the next Firelord. It was an out of body experience watching him go through exactly what she had as a child. She saw herself in his worries, his doubts, his fears. She saw her twelve year old self in how he hesitated in front of officials, in his distaste for politics she saw her father, and his love for being away from court she saw his father. It was one thing for her to be aware of the fact that she had passed that weight of responsibility onto him; a child - her child. It was another for her to see it, know intimately how it affects him. It was the curse of a life in luxury and power.

Izumi has never once thought about life without it, it’s all she’s ever known and she takes that duty to heart, and while she knows he does too, already at eight years old, has she caught him wondering about it. It was only once and he hardly entertained the idea, whether that be his desire or from guilt - she isn’t sure. Nevertheless, she was concerned about his future. Right now it wasn’t much of an issue and if she wanted, she could wave it away with a flick of her wrist to spend a day without it on her mind. Typically those days involved special outings or family visits she took the kids on, but it was a daily consideration for the woman.

Honora was the opposite from her elder brother in this way, one of the only manners they feel so contradictory from one another. She was attached to Izumi’s hip most days. Always wondering where she was going, what she was talking about with those councilmen, how she gets them to listen to her. She was a hard girl to figure out however. She gets her curiosity from her father, a man who has to study something from all angles for him to feel like he understood it, like scratching an itch. There were many times where Izumi agreed to take her along on some errands and when next the mother turned around, her daughter was gone; wandering around to look at something new. She always had to be moving and Izumi doesn’t really know where she gets it from.

Which was why the Firelord was beyond surprised that she had managed to captivate Honora into sitting down for an indefinite amount of time as they played a game of Pai Sho. 

The five year old was one move away from pouting, the way she was biting her lip was aggressive, trying to hold in her oncoming tantrum. Now, Izumi wasn’t in the business of purposefully letting her kids win in anything. They need to work for it; earn it, they would never learn and improve otherwise. Her parents were the same way. She couldn’t recount all the times her mother had nicked her as they practiced with their knives. Especially if it was something they were passionate about, if they want to be the best they have to beat the best - even if that means she’d have to face the brunt of her newly five year old’s emotional outburst.

However, the master firebender didn’t believe in crushing their spirits either. She’d only give them what they could comprehend, leaving room for them to learn a few new things without making them out to be a lamb led to slaughter; otherwise they’d only get discouraged and would never want to play again. Letting them believe they have a chance, even when Izumi’s ability is far superior to her girl’s, makes them eager to play again. The day she herself finally beat her parents in Pai Sho, it felt like realizing a dream, she was giddy for the rest of the week.

One day, she hopes Iroh and Honora feel the same. 

“Is Iroh better than me?” The little firebender chirped out from her side of the game board, her miniature knees bouncing against the cushion she was sitting on like she’d recently drank three cups of coffee. 

Izumi let a gentle smirk spread her lips at hearing Honora pronounce her brother’s name given the fact that she had a slight lisp from missing one of her front teeth. Iroh softly teased her about it once and has been oddly quiet about it ever since. “He’s had more practice, I would estimate you are about the same when he was your age.” She candidly told her while attempting not to huff, Honora was constantly comparing herself to her brother; it wasn’t always in the negative, but Izumi despised those questions. She dreaded the day Honora asked her who was her favorite since she doesn’t have one and she knows how well that would go down with her daughter.

Between Izumi pushing up her golden spectacles and Honora making another move on the board, the forty-one year old was soothed by the crackling of the fire she lit in the fireplace beside them. It was a still night in the capital of the Fire Nation today, everyone was silent and indoors as they prepared for a drought headed their way in the next few weeks. It had made its way from the center of the country and was now headed here and despite the fact that they were along the shore, the city dwelling in the middle of a volcano didn’t improve their odds.

Izumi furthered the game and spent Honora’s few minutes finalizing her to-do list for tomorrow, her job doesn’t normally halt because she was playing a game with her youngest, but if she never let herself stop thinking about it she would be miserable all the time. It was a trick she learned later than she wished she had, but that was also the beauty of people’s minds and the differences between family members. Her father could have told her that and if she would have listened, it might have helped, but now it was a reality she kept close to her heart because she figured it out on her own. Things had to happen a certain way for her to draw that conclusion and she is all the better for it.

Honora gripped the rim of one of the tiles on the board, but then grounded her teeth before letting it go again with a half-hearted growl. “Ugh, how does nothing feel like a good idea and yet everything help you? Why can’t my moves help me? It doesn’t make any sense.” Izumi’s eyes have never been the best, but even she could see the tears welling in her golden eyes, far too pretty to use weeping.

Unfazed with a practiced mastery, Izumi quirked her jet black brow at her opponent with a tilt of her head as she debated what to say and how to say it so that she would register it. “The choices you have made in the game have led you to where you are now. No decision is insignificant and none of them were big enough to bring you here on their own; they all worked together, but that’s alright. Simply because you put yourself in a difficult position doesn’t make this game unwinnable.” She pitched her voice to a level that Honora would pay attention to, she didn’t mean for this game to be a life lesson, but that was one of her favorite things about it. 

She’s sure her young one would disagree. “Then what do I do?” She all but whined with perhaps the biggest puff her youthful diaphragm could form.

“I can’t make that choice for you, Honora.” The mother of two gazed at her daughter with all the austerity of one of the Fire Sages. “I can although, tell you that if you want to dig yourself out of that hole, think long-term. Which move will help you later, even if it isn’t the best one to make right now?”

Finally, Honora’s tears drying up as though someone put the sun over her, the woman’s competitor ceased her bellyaching and grew sober - or as sober as a five year old could be. After over a minute and Izumi holding her breath in hopes she had gotten through to her, Honora moved the tile Izumi would have chosen and sighed. They both knew it would still result in a loss for her now, but as Honora’s eyes flickered across every single tile in play, Izumi could see when the message sunk in. “You know, you’re better than I thought. I figured since you don’t play too much, you wouldn’t be the best at it, but I was wrong!” The royal forgot herself as she complimented her temporary rival, treating Izumi like her mother amongst the climax of the game.

It made the matriarch grin. “Things are not always what they seem, Princess. This is actually my favorite game.” Her hum was picked up by her daughter as they locked eyes, similar in every way, with Izumi’s rather warmly meditative and Honora’s vigorously diverted.

Digging into her porcelain bowl full of fire flakes and stuffing them in her mouth like candy, the pale monarch moved another one of her pieces as she addressed her mother mindlessly. “So why do you not play?”

Suddenly, Izumi was glad Iroh was busy studying. If both of their orbs were set on her awaiting her response, she doesn’t think she could have pulled herself together. After a few seconds of Izumi gathering coherent words back into her head and a couple of deep breaths, she took her turn and tried her absolute hardest to match Honora’s unflappable nature; a demeanor that wasn’t usually hard for the woman, but when it came to the matter of family - especially her husband as of late - she could never escape being shaken. “I can’t play without thinking of your father.” She cleared her throat, a sound she commonly found vulgar, but she needed to remember it wasn’t currently swelling up.

Odalis, the tender man that he was, left this world only two years ago; Honora was only three and poor Iroh merely five. It was all so abrupt. In one fell swoop Izumi had everything and in another she went from a wife to a widow. One of the men on her council, a handful older in age, even said she should consider herself lucky he perished from natural causes. He told her the story of watching his mother receive news that his father died in the war, they didn’t even have a body to bury and if they did, it would have been charred to black and deformed. Knowing he had a violent end drove his mother in a depressive spell she had never come back from, but Izumi didn’t feel lucky.

She had been married to him for twelve years. Izumi was close with so many people, she had a big family and she loved all of them dearly. Losing any one of them would have been torture, but Odalis had always been different. She may not have always known it, but she fell in love with him so early on and had been in love with him since the day he came back to the capital; all the way back when she was eighteen years old. There was not a day that has gone by that he has been far from her thoughts. While she was reading, traveling, elbow deep in politics and quelling one threat or another, he was there. Many times that meant nearby; physically where she could feel his heart beating against her chest as he pulled her into a lung-crushing embrace. Other times that meant inside, where she could hear his sweet words in her breast even when he wasn’t there.s the one who taught her how to dance the ancient and forgotten movement of the Gintong Odissi, got her into Earth Kingdom literature, and took her stargazing for the first time. He was the person she could sit in silence with and hold his hand, who could get her to ramble on about the officials she couldn’t stand, and make her feel safe even as she held the fate of an entire nation in her hands. He could still get her to blush even after two kids and two decades of flirting. He carved her jewelry more beautiful than the moon with his own hands even though he was the husband of the Fire Princess. She felt like the luckiest woman in the world each night she went to bed with him. He was different because losing him had felt like losing a part of herself with him.

Now, that she was without him, there were mornings where she woke up and she couldn’t breathe. It would hit her at random times of the day, this sinking poisonous feeling making herself sick that she hasn’t seen him in too long. She no longer stares at their portrait in her bedchambers because she couldn’t yet stop herself from crying and she detested her bed; one fit for two and yet could only ever hold one from now one; she treated it as though it was the one that took him from her. 

She still saw him when she slept, but too many of her dreams were plagued with the worst day of her life. She was in the pavilion on the edge of Capital City’s waterfront and had just finished tasting probably a hundred different Ma-la tan recipes for a food festival in town. She and two others, one of which is a rather infamously critical chef from Fountain City, were the final judges on who won. It was a gorgeous day in truth. It was sunny and the kids had actually behaved fairly, Iroh kept going back for more portions of one of the recipes and though it wasn’t Izumi’s favorite, she figured his fondness of it made her happier than the taste of the one she preferred and voted for that one to win. She watched him play with a few city kids as she rocked Honora to sleep in her arms and chatted to her mother, Hisa, and Ty-Lee who were there with her. Everyone greeted her with generous smiles; it had been a while since her people had welcomed her with more grins than bows.

She felt that nothing could dampen this bright, relaxing, and rewarding day with fresh air and clear skies. That was when two ships looking far worse for wear docked at the pier. She had recognized them immediately, most wouldn’t have, but she knew her navy almost better than anyone. It had been a month since she last saw her husband who went abroad on an excavation of interest to not only the council, but more especially to him as a dedicated jeweler after some scouts mentioned the agates, zircons, and quartz that have already been found on site. He asked her if she would allow him to go with them, even promising that he would bring something back for her and the kids and he was so thrilled that she couldn’t possibly say no, but she had no reason to ever think he wouldn’t make it back.

They were two days early, so Izumi strutted over to the docks with a spring in her step, but he wasn’t the one who greeted her. She had thought it odd that only half of the ships made it back, but she figured they were simply delayed; the sea is an unpredictable place after all - not her favorite place by any means. Before she knew it, her guards were shuffling her behind them with gusto and a lot of mumbling. Hisa and her turned to each other with a suspicious yet intrigued look before they both ordered her guards to settle down and explain. 

Finally, the handful in front of them separated and out walked the captain of the ship’s second in command. He had a makeshift mask tied around his mouth. She waited for him to take it off, but he instead confessed to her the fast-acting illness they contracted out on the water on their way back from the excavation. Their beloved captain, Nishi, was the second to fall after learning of one of the crew’s weak state, quarantining the both of them as she tended to him. After that, it spread and he was left in charge to figure out a way to stop it from reaching all four ships. Little did they know the ship in the back had already completely fallen ill and then the one in front of it. There was only one survivor out of those two ships while the other two lost nearly half.

Izumi wanted to ask him in that moment which ship was Odalis on, but the words wouldn’t come out. She felt herself screaming for an answer that wouldn’t leave her tongue, choking on them instead. Eventually, another man came out and presented Izumi with five gems and she instantly knew who they belonged to, but the fact that he hadn’t come out and showed them to her himself told her all she needed to know. 

They were put in her hand and she soon stumbled on her feet. She could barely hold herself up, not wanting to alarm the public or her children. With Hisa holding her arm for support, Izumi swiftly turned to where Iroh was playing and Honora was laughing with her two grandmothers by the flowers, knowing that their father would never come back to them. Everything around her began to blur and she started to disremember her time and place, even her own name. By the time she turned her head back around to the two men from the ships in front of her, their hats were off and the bow they were bestowing her lasted far too long to be a casual hello.

“Did he like to play too?”

Izumi blinked a few times to collect herself again at the sound of her daughter’s voice. “He did, very much.” Her shaky voice was hushed as though speaking too much of him would cost the woman her soul, unable to steady the erratic beating of her heart from her unwelcome memory. “Even if it was one of the only games he never won against me. He loved games and he won most of them, but never this one. I have played it with military officials since I was eleven, so I was always quite good.” She kept herself talking to distract Honora from seeing something was wrong with her, it wasn’t her ordinary tactic, but Iroh and Honora were her kids; she was the only parent they had now. They didn’t need her to break down, but talk to them about something better rather than refusing to say anything at all; no matter how badly she wanted to.

Honora nodded, her gesture easygoing, but Izumi could see the lump in her throat that she swallowed. “Do you think he would have played with me, too?” The question - though blissfully innocent - nearly made Izumi wince. She hated that their kids didn’t have the chance to truly get to know him; he was a great man.

Regardless, The Firelord nodded without even a frown. “I do.” The insipidness of her reply reminded Izumi of her mother, but she doubts her words ever felt this hollow; tormenting. 

Fortunately, Honora was too invested in winning the game that she didn’t pay much mind to her mother. “Do you think I would have won against him ?” Her challenging and rather sly smirk was enough to ease some of the tension in Izumi’s shoulders, grateful that her broad and disloyal fixation had suddenly become one-track; she blames her ambition. She loved being good at everything she did.

Izumi moved her next piece before looking left and right as if she was worried about someone overhearing, and then leaned closer into the center of the board where Honora met her halfway. “Perhaps sooner than he would have preferred.” She whispered into the warm night air in one of their several sitting rooms, the delicate nature of her confession being consumed by the fire beside them.

This makes the wavy haired princess giggle, the jingle of the tune belying her youth, and it was one of Izumi’s favorite sounds. “I miss him.” The admission fell from her opponent’s mouth with a crack, the words seeming uncertain as though Honora wasn’t sure if she had the memories to miss him.

It made Izumi finally shed a tear; the first she’s cried for her husband since the month he was taken from her. “As do I, turtle-duck.” The royal only just had the strength to tell her little one, unable to prevent her head from falling while she gripped the ground painfully to stop her hands from catching it and making a scene in front of Honora.

“When do you think we will see him again?” The query was too familiar to one she used to ask her own mother all the time as her father went off to fight for the world to even attempt to seek any comfort from it.

However, while Izumi and the Fire Nation were never the most spiritual sort, growing up with her Uncle Aang and Aunt Katara gave her enough security to know there was something waiting for them in the end; even if not everyone was privy to it. She hoped there was another for everyone who couldn’t access the Spirit World and that he was there; happy somehow despite being away from them all. “I wish I knew, I sincerely do.” Izumi started, her throat sounding like sand grinding into glass, searching for the right thing to say, but she knew better than to think there was anything she could say to make this feel serendipitous. “All I know is that we will see him when we are meant to and when we do, we’ll have lived a full life. There will be plenty to catch him up on and you can sit and play Pai Sho with him as long as you want. W-When we see him next, we will never have to part again. How does that sound?” She canvassed her five year old, insecure about the amount of gaiety she could provide in a situation like this; the way her mom always had.

To her relief, Honora thought about it for a moment and then grinned; it wasn’t quite as delightful as she hoped for her, but it was more than Izumi could ask for. “It does. I can’t wait! Thank you, Mother!” She bowed respectfully, but somewhere in there Izumi could sense the wile underneath the surface of deference.

After far too long for Izumi’s liking, she was able to look at the Pai Sho board with a clear head and when she did, Izumi took a deep breath and moved her last piece to secure her victory. Once she did, Honora huffed, but there was a smirk stretching her lips anyway. “And thank you for playing.” Izumi bowed back to her; the notion was returned after the girl was able to figure out how her loss happened.

She crossed her arms at her mother definitely, signaling that she wasn’t pleased with the outcome, but if it was intended to be angry, she failed woefully. “I’ll get you next time.”

At this, Izumi couldn’t keep her chuckle in, though it was light on her lips. “I look forward to it.”

Honora’s night didn’t last much longer as the girl fell asleep trying to talk her mother into letting her train with the palace’s resident sword master in spite of her age on top of her recent firebending training. Though the maid following Honora around offered to take her to bed, Izumi declined and tucked her in herself. Then, Izumi went looking for her son, but she didn’t have to look hard. He was in his chambers by the window with his candle about to burn out. When she approached he asked for her help with his brush strokes and mentioned little about what it was for other than an assignment from one of his professors. 

Izumi helped him for the next half hour or so and put him to bed as well when he was done, but as she blew out his candle and headed for the door, he called to her, asking if she could stay with him tonight. When the matriarch thought about her bed, forever doomed to remain half empty and keeping her up at night with loneliness, she gladly crawled in with her boy and ended both their nights together.

Chapter Text

Republic City; one could hardly say its name without thinking of the two men who founded it.

One of whom is Izumi’s father and the other, her uncle for all intents and purposes. They may not share the same blood but he had been her father’s family long before she was. They’d had too many adventures to count before she was a thought in her parents’ head, enough memories to put in a museum, and a bond forged in fire. The city was more than a labor of love or a dream, but it was proof that past grievances could be bridged and buried; that two people of different nations could be friends and that the Fire Nation was truly trying to restore peace. Their work in that plot of land gifted to them by Earth King Kuei was the chance for the rest of the world to do the same.

Aang was originally born into a time where people all over the world traveled to the other nations. Culture was not guarded but shared, people had friends and even family from every corner of the earth. Despite their separation, everyone alive lives on the same rock and they were not meant to hide from the other parts of it. The Hundred Year War damaged more than people’s lives, but their souls and they stopped seeing the world as a place to harmonize.

The then Firelord and Avatar sought to change that and they did. 

Once it started to gain population and the crime rate skyrocketed, Aang talked to his then bride and they agreed to move to the newly thriving city and thus Air Temple Island was built, as was an improved police force headed by none other than the greatest earthbender of all time; Izumi’s aunt, the one and only Toph Beifong. Three members of Team Avatar in seemingly the center of the world and living in a city they created to be a beacon of unanimity. Izumi wasn’t yet born but from what she’s gathered, it was a big deal when it happened.

That island built specifically for his family to live in, where he could watch over the city during the night, where he and Katara raised their three children together, was the very place he passed. Four days ago.

Two weeks before, her Aunt Katara had written to everyone and told them about his fatigue. It didn’t sound good then and as bad as it was, Izumi knew it had to be worse in the flesh. They had done everything they could. He was only sixty-six years old after all, Avatar Kyoshi lived to be two hundred and thirty! Even adding the one hundred years he was in an iceberg, that wasn’t nearly old enough for an Avatar, right? Why him? The world still needed him, he still had more to do. What would happen to the city in his absence? His wife and kids? His brother Sokka? Best friends Toph and Zuko? His nieces and nephews? Aang was perhaps the easiest person to love in this lifetime, she’s never seen someone with more natural charisma and someone so selfless. He had inspired her in so many ways when she was little.

Their first theory was that being one hundred and sixty-six took too much from him, but that never sounded right. They searched for signs of poisons, spiritual imbalance, anything but he was as pure as the day he was born. Finally, when they arrived for Visiting Hours the weekend they lost him, the same tradition they did once a month, the master healer explained that it wasn’t his age that had taxed his spirit, but the fact that he was in the avatar state that entire century he was frozen in that iceberg. An avatar is as close to a god as the physical world can get, even in the spirit world, they have more power than most, but they are unfortunately not gods. They have limits too.

The idea that there was a limit one can go into the Avatar state wasn’t the conclusion, but that the more power and energy they use the less they have to live off of in return in some cosmic way of things. Izumi was never the spiritual sort, so all those blatherings never quite settled with her growing up, but she knew enough to know not to question her uncle in this regard.

They treated that weekend the way it was - the last they’d get with him. He was tired, lethargic, but somehow his smile remained vigorous and joyful. That was what Izumi liked to think he did best; bring happiness to the people around him and that was just as important as safety. What good was a life to live if you had nothing in it for you? They did all his favorite things, keeping his condition close and unspoken to the public; no one even said a word of it when they were alone. She presumed none of them like to think about it. In spite of the foreboding finish they knew was fast approaching, the weekend was what Izumi would consider a blessing. She knew better than some that not everyone gets a goodbye.

In the end, he went to sleep in the arms of the woman who has held his heart since the day they met. Tenzin said it happened at dusk and he arrived just after dark, when it was too late to be with him in his final moments. Izumi knew he was trying not to cry as he berated himself, asking how it could have happened so quickly - he’d only gone out to the garden and suddenly an acolyte was shouting his name from across the yard.

Though it hadn’t even been a fortnight since she last left her nation, Izumi made a quick trip to Republic City on the back of Tenzin’s bison to be there for the parade in his honor. The Fire Nation held a lantern ceremony for the man they all revered the day his fate went public, but as the leader of her country, she was expected to show her respect to him in his official sendoff here. Izumi could barely stand as people looked on with heartbroken looks. It wasn’t fair. To her relief, she’d already been through something similar when her husband died, so she had more experience in how to act and what to do, but it didn’t make it any easier.

The ceremony ended a few hours ago and her family have since dispersed. No one was looking well, the entire family hung their heads with a grim sword swinging over them. Izumi could hardly speak, any memories or sentiments or even complaints were caught in her throat, she felt like she was suffocating. She didn’t know how the world would recover from this, let alone her family. 

It was nearly time for her to depart. Tenzin was giving her a ride back to make the journey quicker, but as she stared around the room now, a hot tea searing the skin in her palms, she realized that something was missing. 

Suyin and Lin were talking to one another in hushed tones, seemingly arguing about something, but any ire they held was half-hearted; it was their own peculiar form of distraction she suspected. Meanwhile, the Avatar’s niece was making food; Hanae was cooking a vegetable stew - Aang’s favorite - while her older brother Jolon was busy talking to his cousin Jissika. Jiss was with her moms, Kya and Kotomi, as they all held hands. Bumi was being cradled by his eldest, nineteen year old Bashira. Tenzin on the other hand, was having his back rubbed by his wife, Pema. Izumi’s father went to the lemur pens, saying something about not being able to be in this house without him. Not everyone was here anymore, some left while others found it too hard to even come. 

Mai stayed home with Iroh and Honora. She didn’t want to bring them. She worried it was too much for them. Iroh was barely a teenager and Honora was even younger. They had shed their tears the other day when Izumi sat them down to tell them the news; why bring them any more hurt? Then there was Izumi’s fear of causing them to relate all this to their father and that was definitely a wound she didn’t want to open back up. 

Without giving herself the time to figure it out, Izumi permitted her legs to take her upstairs, trying to think as little as possible; she knew her mind wouldn’t come up with anything good right now. She ventured down the hall to one of the several stairwells in this center temple and before she knew it, Izumi found herself on the balcony that connected one wing of the temple to the other. It had the best view of the sunset on the whole island, debatably the entire city. She can remember watching Aang and Katara dancing up here all the time. They did that a lot; her uncle said he promised to dance with her every single day, a vow he gave to her at their wedding and thus the tradition came directly from the dancefloor - their first dance as a married couple was the same one they shared in their older years.

She didn’t know why at first she was up here, she wasn’t hoping to find anything, it was simply where her body wanted to go. That is, until the Firelord found a lone woman already in the middle of the walkway; one she was far too familiar with to leave her here alone.

The forty-five year old woman didn’t need any more incentive as she strolled over to her elder, silently planting her feet in place right next to her. She hadn’t seen her escape the grief-stricken room downstairs earlier, for an older woman she was rather quiet on her feet. She didn’t know what to do, how to console someone who has lost a piece of herself recently. She tried to recall what she needed when Odalis died, but the plain truth of this was that there was nothing anyone could do to make her feel alright or lessen that kind of pain. The only one who truly could was gone, so Izumi didn’t try.

Instead, she merely stood beside her, letting her know she was there, but for the first few moments neither of them looked in the other’s direction. They simply watched the sun fall and fade into the water’s horizon. The similarity to the scene in front of them and the one Katara was living wasn’t lost on Izumi; how the sun - Aang - was disappearing from view and into the water underneath; Katara. Every twilight was different and Izumi felt as though her uncle painted this one specifically for his beloved. 

Eventually, the southern bender tilted her head ever so gently to the side, as though attempting to see the sky from another angle, but there was no point of view that could give her what she was searching for. “So you see it too?” She didn’t face the monarch as she spoke, her nurturing voice a hint too melancholic for someone normally so maudlin. 

Her astute nod was all she could manage for a moment, trying to find the words that won’t make her aunt crack wide open. “I believe so.” She settled on simple, knowing there wasn’t much more she would likely be able to juggle as Izumi did her best to make herself sound more solacing and warm rather than her typical banal tone that usually pushed interest away.

“How do I bear it?” The waterbender questioned close to a beg, her soft blue eyes turning red with tears that were hanging on by a very thin thread.

The royal knew better than to assume she was referring to the sky, but the breaking of her voice was the confirmation she didn’t need to be sure. Readjusting in her spot beside the war hero, Izumi sighs. It felt more than a little strange to hear someone who taught Izumi so many lessons growing up ask her for advice. At one point, Izumi presumed that there was nothing Katara or her generation could learn that their kids had already known, but with age comes wisdom and that notion was proven wrong. She only hoped it would come under better circumstances, revolve around something besides mourning and helplessness. 

The query wasn’t one anyone could answer, there wasn’t a solution or a right way of doing things. Izumi didn’t know how to live in a world without the avatar; without her uncle. He’d been in it as long as she’s been alive. She had no clue what would happen next. She wasn’t sure who would keep beating her at family games and make the flower crowns at their monthly gathering, who would give her tips on avoiding conflict. Aang was an easy man to love, but the Avatar could be replaced; he couldn’t. There were too many things about him or that he’s done that couldn’t be taken up by anyone else in her life and though she wasn’t his child, he had left behind a hole in her heart that could not be mended. 

So she couldn’t help Katara live without him, she didn’t have any tricks to live without someone you’ve been in love with since you were fifteen, but she could say a few words about continuing without your husband. “Little by little in pieces and parts you can withstand.” She admitted lowly, her deep voice a sign of the somber message it held and golden irises beginning to burn from staring at the now orange sun too long.

Katara’s tear finally fell, a silent plea. “Will I ever feel whole again?” Her head had no choice but to fall, the weight of his loss barreling through her like a boulder.

“I hope so.” Izumi whispered bluntly for herself as much as for her aunt; she hasn’t yet mastered that sense of fullness since she became a widow either, but she wasn’t the first to suffer like this and she surely wouldn’t be the last. With how many people go through this unique sort of misery and somehow manage to survive it, she knew the day would come; she just didn’t know when. “Until then, you have us and from what I have found, it will grow to be enough.”

With that, Izumi rid herself of her uncertainty and reached out to grab the healer’s hand as tightly as she possibly could; there wasn’t anything else to do. 

As of a few nights ago, two people were made the happiest couple alive as they gave birth to the new Avatar, unaware that it was one of the worst days this family has ever seen, but at least the cycle continues. They may be in anguish today, but it was nice to know that even in death, Aang had given another family the glee of a lifetime. 

If only it hadn’t cost so much

Chapter Text

“She looks beautiful.”

Indeed, she was, Izumi thought to herself as she stared up at the commanding portrait in front of her. 

Portraits of Fire Ladies weren’t the norm for the Fire Nation royal family. Each Fire Lord gets their portrait done about twice a year, only to have their successor pick which goes in the hall that displays all the ones that came before them. Izumi herself recalled the one she chose for her father, with his straight black hair reaching the small of his back and his beard to a reasonable size, and more smile lines than wrinkles, but enough to make him look mature. It was the year she attended her first banquet at ten. That was a good year for him and their nation under his care and when she thought about what she wanted her rule to be like most days, that was what she pictured. It was a peaceful time.

She could understand why the spouses of rulers wouldn’t be given the same honor, but her mother was no mere wife. She was a war hero in her own right, a wonderful politician even if she despised the role, and was priceless in her council to her husband. Izumi’s father didn’t need to say it for her to know he couldn’t have done it without her. She knew it too and that was the important thing.

Izumi herself knows that without her mother in her life to raise her to be collected and vigilant, but never bull-headed, she wouldn’t be half the Fire Lord she is today; or wife or mother for that matter. She shaped so much that Izumi felt it would be a shame for that to be forgotten, left in the past for no one to acknowledge.

Though that much was true, Izumi also admitted to herself that it was only half the reason she commissioned this portrait of her she was staring at now. The other half was for selfish reasons, the musings and dread of a child that missed their mother and didn’t want to live in a world where she couldn’t see her face every day. She never had before, why must she now? With how many people Izumi has lost lately - the cost of getting old she suspects - she wasn’t prepared nor willing to go without one more. 

“This is a good place to start this tradition, Lord Izumi.” The raspy voice of her father replied after a comfortable amount of silence while he gaped around the nearly empty chamber of the palace.

The golden spectacled woman nodded, wishing to give him something of a smile, but her heart couldn’t will her lips to quirk that way; not yet. “We have so many rooms in this palace and far too much luxury to let any go to waste. A room wants purpose, now this one has it.” She agreed placidly, her words feeling a little hollow when there was a picture replacing the flesh of her mother’s ears.

Her father on the other hand, didn’t seem to bear her burdens and answered her decree with a grin, but one whose birth caused a somber twinkle to consume his golden eyes. “Wonderfully said.” He seemed to nod the smirk away after a little while, soaking in the blank canvas that was the royal family’s new Memorial Chamber.

When Izumi was pondering what she would do with and where she would put this new portrait of her mother when it was finished, she got to thinking about all the children and spouses of those that others would wave away. How many Fire Lords in history wanted to commemorate their husband or wife, but had no place where that praise belonged? How many children cared for their mother or father the same as their other parents that cradled their nation? Why should only one half of that pairing get the glory; the adoration? It didn’t seem fair.

Of course, Izumi knew that her mother’s family would have their own way of remembering her, but it didn’t seem enough for the one she married into to pass her name off as merely another bride. She felt the same for her husband when he passed, but there was the astronomical difference of him being married to the current Fire Lord at the time whereas her mother was simply Lord Mother. He got a dedicatory parade, one Izumi detested. What sort of insensitive halfwit thought it would lessen the heart to parade around their family member’s coffin like a banner? 

For this day forward, any generations looking to memorialize a member of this family that didn’t carry the mantle of Fire Lord, they would have a place. Be it portrait or trinket or scroll, any contribution that held ties to the one they loved was sanctioned. 

As for Mai, one of her knives was pinned to the wall on top of the portrait, so that everyone may know who that weapon belonged to. It was the same one she used in the war, old and nearly rusted before Izumi had it cleaned. This is where it belonged best, by her side. The rest were given to Izumi to use as she saw fit, but thankfully, there wasn’t much fighting in her nation nowadays. Still, one can never be too cautious. She’ll be ready if that peace is ever thwarted with her mother’s spirit beside her.

“She’d be proud of this ingenuity.” Lord Zuko proclared with a reassured air about him; for an old man he was fairly firm.

Izumi took a deep breath, her nose seeking the flowery scent of her perfume, but didn’t find it. “I know.” She affirmed at a whisper and grateful that she could keep her posture proper in the face of this final goodbye. “She’d also not ignore the fact that you haven’t shed a single tear this morning, Father. It is my belief that she would be proud of that as well.” She tried to tease him to put some life back in their breasts; it worked a little.

Now that her mother isn’t here, someone would have to do it for her.

This time he chuckled and though the sound was sincere, it was also fragile. “I face heavy sorrow, she is the love of my life and I am scared to live that life without her, but at seventy-five years old, the one we shared together was magnificent. I couldn’t ask for anything more.” The hint of heartache in his voice was eclipsed by the insurmountable affection he felt for what they made together.

Now Izumi really did chuckle. “That I know well.” The graying woman confessed with a trace of empathy. “Odalis may not have reached the years Mother did, but after some time, I find joy in the faces of our children. It pains me to know that they’ll never feel his warmth, but that anguish is soothed in knowing that in them, he is still alive.”

There was no need for words to be exchanged between them then as Izumi was wrapped into the loving embrace of her father, his sympathies and understanding portrayed in how close he held her and the way his heart cried against her ears. It has taken her a long time to find a semblance of light in his absence, but time heals all wounds. It does not vanquish that agony nor does it make it any easier to harbor, but now that there is something else to accompany it, living with that hurt has become bearable if nothing else.

In time, Izumi knows that she will have to learn to live without more and more of those she loves. One day, those that came before her will begin to pass on just as her mother and Uncle Aang have done and when she joins them in their old age, her own cousins will dwindle. By the spirits, her seventeen year old son was already learning to command militaries and march beside them. Even in a time of peace, nothing was guaranteed; Odalis taught her that. 

That doesn’t mean she’ll make peace with it, but as long as she has her family - her children - to look to for hope and mirth, she will continue to stand tall. For the rest of those left behind, for her kids, for her nation - it is her duty and she will do it well. 

Pulling apart after a few minutes of solace, the father-daughter duo cherish this moment they carved out for themselves with his hands holding her cheeks and kissing her forehead for good measure. “You are the strongest person I’ve ever known, turtle-duck.” Now his smile held a glow to it, a blazing generosity that encompassed all her woe with one kind look.

Before she could thank him, there was a respectful knock on the door. “Come in!” She allowed instead of her tender gratitude to the man that has always been with her and straightened back up even if her form was already poise. 

On the other side of the ornate door was her beloved Iroh, sporting a refined topknot he has been wanting to wear since he started working with the Imperial Guard; he thinks it makes him look older, but to Izumi he looks as youthful as ever. He will always be her little boy. “Pardon me, Mother, Grandfather, but Councilman Kazuya was hoping to push forward his meeting with you in two hours? He said circumstances have changed.” He sounded so much like her father when he spoke ever since he was fourteen, but she couldn't help but see Odalis when she stared at him.

Just like that she felt delight. “Of course, let’s not keep the Councilman waiting. Father, would you and Iroh please escort him to the meeting room? I will join you shortly.” Her banal tone was, for a moment, rather polite and sweet in the midst of her fond reprieve. 

Both men nodded and bowed to their leader before disappearing together down the hall, her father’s weathered hand happily resting on her young son’s shoulder as they left. 

Taking a deep breath, Izumi faced the woman that gave every piece of herself to her daughter, and bowed to her as well. “Hoshi will come back to you one day, Mother. That I promise.” The goodbye welcomed the last strands of her loss’ wretchedness in with open arms, before Izumi breathed them out and abandoned it as she exited the chamber with love and honor rather than despair. 

Whatever good would that do? 

She has a nation to run.