Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Welcome to Shu Jing, Princess.” Piandao offered out his hand to assist the girl from her carriage, but Princess Azula ignored the hand. The eleven year old sprang out of the carriage, waving off his help with a flick of her wrist and an upturn of her nose.

“I wouldn’t recommend you waste your breath on any pleasantries. I can assure you that you’ll get none in return,” her response sounded far older than a girl who had only recently turned eleven.

It was proving to be a stark contrast to her brother’s arrival. Prince Zuko had been a few years younger when he arrived in Shu Jing for training, quiet and wearing poorly concealed fear like a cloak around his shoulders-one sensibly purchased, with far too much room for him to grow into. He’d had to be coaxed out of the carriage with offerings of sizzle crisps and cookies. A different side of the coin entirely from the precocious girl standing before him.

“I see,” Piandao answered, hiding the beginnings of a subtle smirk by smoothing out his mustache, “and may I ask why that would be?”

The girl’s expression was blank, but her sharp gaze dissected him and their surroundings. She shrugged. “Because I won’t be here long enough to need them.” Her answer, simple and matter of fact, came with a sense of self-assurance that Piandao could almost envy. He found himself hiding another twitch of humor behind his hand.

“Do you foresee yourself mastering blades that quickly, Princess?” He asked, fighting to keep a chortle out of his voice.

Her features sharpened as if she sensed the faint traces of humor he was harboring at her expense. “No. Of course not. I have no intentions of picking up a blade at all, let alone mastering them. Father will receive your detailed reports of my lack of participation, and determine that this entire exercise was futile. I expect to be back home in Caldera within a month, if not sooner.”

Azula wandered away from him, ending the conversation as she walked heel to toe to trace the outlines of the red flowers tiled on the ground just inside the gate.

Piandao raised a dark eyebrow, taking a few strides to walk alongside her, his arms folding behind his back as the path of lotus blossoms guided them around the perimeter of his home, “Forgive me, Princess, but have you fully considered the repercussions of that course of action?”

Rolling her eyes, Azula fixed him with a withering sneer, “I have considered it. I’m not naive. Disobeying my father is a calculated risk. But one I’m willing to take. The way I see it my father is out of options. He and I collectively chased off my mother like the monsters we are. Now Father has defaced, disfigured, and banished his first born. If he does the same to me, his legacy and plans end, which he would never allow to happen.”

Hairs rose along Piandao’s arms beneath his sleeves. Despite the heat of the day that still lingered and seeped from the stonework surrounding them, he found himself fighting off shivers. Any humor or lightness Piandao had been harboring through their conversation dissipated.

No, not dissipated-transferred might have been the appropriate term. Because the princess’s eyes were dancing, and a victorious little smirk curled through her round cheeks. Though Piandao hadn’t been aware of it until that moment, they had apparently been sparring, and the little royal had won. Or at the very least, shocked him into a temporary ceasefire.

He shook his head, keeping his tone as neutral as possible as he spoke, “We will see what the test of time has to say about it, I suppose. Shall we get you settled, however brief your stay here may be?”

The girl cocked her head to one side, nose crinkling as she considered the offer. She seemed to be weighing her options, and although minutes before he would have pointed out that Azula didn’t have any others, he was certain that in her mind there were infinite possibilities.

Someone who felt they had nothing to lose was almost always a formidable opponent, but this particular someone was proving herself a force to be reckoned with before their lessons had even truly begun. If the princess would deign for them to begin at all.

But Azula relented. She nodded and allowed him to guide her through the courtyards and into the keep.The princess was quiet at his side, but her eyes maintained a constant scan of their surroundings as they walked. Piandao thought to himself about what a shame it was that the girl didn’t have any interest in taking up swords. If without any training at all she was already mapping and calculating her environments, her natural ability once honed would be remarkable.

Perhaps he’d change her mind during their time together.

Something told him she was underestimating both her father’s resolve in the situation and what his retaliation would be if she continued on her path of noncompliance. While it was true that the princess wasn’t especially naive for her age, she was still young and lacked the experience to know there were plenty of ways to scar someone that eyes would never see-and some things once lost could never be returned.

“These aren’t the original design work,” she said cooly, her fingers hovering over the patterning on the wall.

“Sharp eye, Princess,” Piandao confirmed, stroking his beard through his own examinations of the interior wall that had caught her attention, “This castle was abandoned for quite some time before I took on stewardship. Much of it was on the verge of ruins. I spent years restoring and redesigning it to my own specifications.”

The girl let out a noncommittal hum in reply. If Azula had opinions on it, it seemed she had no particular desires to share them. Just as Piandao imagined, he had no desire to hear what she would have to say on the matter. She was entitled to her own opinions, but for the sake of spending the next few weeks or likely longer in each others’ presence it was just as well he didn’t know what those opinions were.

He opened the door to the keep, and guided her up a set of steps to a long hall of doorways, “You are welcome to select any of the rooms along this hall, Princess. None of them are occupied.” Nor had they been for some time. The girl made no attempts to stray from his side, “Explore them if you wish. I have a hard time envisioning you will glean a great deal of insights from closed doors.”

“Very well,” Azula responded airly. She traipsed down the line of doors, “but if this is some sort of obscure test of my personality or aptitude as a pupil, you really shouldn’t bother wasting your efforts.”

Piandao lip twitched with something other than humor, “I believe you will find me more than qualified to manage my own time. I have done so for many years longer than you have been alive.”

Sensing her overstep of the boundary, the girl simply shrugged and wandered down the hall to crack open doors one by one. The first room was immediately dismissed. Her nose wrinkled and the door closed with a decisive click. Similar results came from the next two doors.

He didn’t question her reasoning, Piandao merely followed along with her progress at a distance and allowed her to take the lead. She stopped in front of a door near the end of the hall, examining the discoloration on the handle. The gloss finish on the door was worn down in places from hands resting against it.

“You said none of these rooms are occupied, but someone used to stay here,” The princess’s question came out as more of a challenge, as if she was accusing him of trickery of some sort.

He raised one of his eyebrows. “It shouldn’t come as a surprise to you that I’ve had many guests and pupils over the years. A castle without occupants is simply a tall collection of stones.

Azula rolled her eyes, indicating he’d somehow missed the point of her statement. “You sound like my uncle.” It wasn’t intended as a compliment-they both knew it.

“He and I are old friends,” he confirmed.

“Unsurprising. All old people know each other,” she muttered in an aside he couldn’t have been certain she meant for him to hear or not. Though assuming she had, he let out a low chuckle for her benefit.

“It seems that way at times, doesn’t it?”

The girl’s eyes narrowed, choosing to open the door in favor of coming up with an answer for him. One of her hands rested on the threshold as she peered into the room. One of the windows had been propped open, spilling warm light and a soft breeze into the room. Most of the room was taken up by a large bed, but a plush rug lined the floor and a shelf of shells and sparkling trinkets cast flecks of rainbow light across the walls and floor.

She padded into the room, her fingernail trailing one of the colorful rays along the wall, “Who put these here?” Azula asked, stopping in front of the little collection arranged on the shelf in front of her.

“Many of my pupils and guests like to leave something behind as a token of their time here, but your cousin and brother contributed rather significantly to this particular collection if I’m not mistaken.”

“Lu Ten stayed in here?” The girl’s eyes rounded, suddenly looking her age for the first time since she’d erupted from the carriage. Her voice took on a hushed tone as if she was afraid to disturb spirits in the room that she hadn’t known existed until that moment. Piandao nodded. “And Zuko?” He nodded again. “Then I will too,” Azula said decisively, with a little bob of her head as if she was confirming it to herself as much as to him. She perched on the edge of the bed, barely disturbing a single crease in the bedspread when she did. Her feet swung back and forth, not even brushing the floor.

Piandao gave the princess a gentle smile, “I’ll have you things sent up for you, then.”

“Thank you,” she answered, voice still smaller than had seemed possible moments before.

Perhaps there were more similarities between Azula and Zuko than Piandao had originally believed.

Chapter Text

Piandao was fairly certain the worst part of housing young firebenders was not contending with their tempers or inherent risk of something on his property being charred, but that he was having to become reacquainted in rising with the sun. He’d heard the soft shuffle of small footsteps tip-toeing against the stone floor some time before, and the squeal of the keep door hinges being budged open just far enough for a slight figure to slip through. The door closed again, but not before a draft of cool morning air flowed in to fill the space that Princess Azula had vacated.

Though reluctant to abandon the sanctuary of his bed, he supposed it would be wise to determine what the princess was up to. If she was anything like her cousin, it wouldn’t be surprising to find her scaling the walls and stealing the plums from the grove of trees lining them. Or if she more resembled her brother, who could often be found in the stables, ducking under the stall doors to try and stroke the ostrich horses. Both of them with varying degrees of success.

He had nursed more than a few scraped knees, and pretended not to notice some watery eyes being hastily swiped to nurse their prides before he finally conceded to rising early enough to supervise their morning hijinks. It seemed to prevent the worst of the injuries from happening in the first place. Tying his robe around his waist and arranging his hair into a neat knot at the crown of his head, Piandao strode out of the keep door.

A brief, but thorough inspection of the central courtyard revealed that the princess wasn’t there.

He hadn’t expected she would be, the spirits weren’t often so merciful on him. Even at dawn when, in his opinion, no one had any business being awake. Straining his ears for footsteps or clatters, he took his search to the perimeter of the castle. He scanned the walls for little royal, but if she was taking after her cousin she had already surpassed his levels of subtly by far. Piandao found that unlikely.  

Turning the bend that led to the farthest courtyard and his garden rockscape, he stopped short at the sight of something he couldn’t have anticipated. Princess Azula’s back was to him. She faced the rising sun, her face upturned in its rays as she performed an elaborate set of movements. Azula punched the air, launched herself down toward the tiled ground, caught herself with palms of her hands, and sprang up again.

Piandao had seen these series of movements before-performed with far less grace and ease by Zuko, and far less care or attention by Lu Ten. He’d come to understand they were training drills for firebending, with a minor component of paying respects to the source of their flames. The practice was designed to teach balance and control, increase their stamina and reaction times, and strengthen their bodies and minds.

Though performed without a flame in sight, Azula flowed through the movements with reverence. He watched her duck and weave through invisible obstacles and opponents, whatever demons the girl was fighting. Piandao watched her travel through the courtyard, leaping from rock to rock and alternating her kicks and punches. He lost track of how much time had passed before the princess’s feet came together in an attention sort of stance. She stood to face the sun and dipped her head in its direction. Escaped strands of hair bounced around the uneven braids the princess had given herself.

Azula turned around. The beginnings of a satisfied smile that had curled through her cheeks vanished when her eyes found Piandao watching her from the side of the castle. Her features narrowed. She crossed her arms. “Is there a particular reason you’re watching me like an eagle hawk?” Azula asked.

Piandao massaged his temples, it was far too early for this sort of interrogation. “If you’ll recall, Princess, this castle is my home and I make it my business to be well-versed in all of its goings on,” he said, tone strained but as polite as he could manage.

“I suppose it is,” she answered, her tone equally clipped. “I haven’t done anything wrong,” Azula added, going on the defensive.

“I never said you had,” Piandao countered, one of his eyebrow’s raising at her reaction, “I merely find myself somewhat surprised to find you practicing those forms given your current resolve.”

Azula rolled her eyes, “I’ve done them everyday since I was three, and I hadn’t even thrown my first spark back then.” She shook one of her hands for emphasis. “Rebellion against my father or not, some habits are difficult to break. Besides, I have no interest in my skills deteriorating before my father comes to his senses and sees things my way.” Her nose wrinkled as if she was disgusted at the very thought of having to make up any lost ground. 

“Shall we continue this conversation over breakfast?” he asked, his voice soft and calm. Azula nodded and allowed him to direct her back to the keep. He opened the keep door and down a half set of steps that lead to the servant quarters and the kitchen. Piandao watched Azula’s head cock to the side. “There is a formal dining room, but I tend to reserve it for special occasions,” he explained, “The kitchen is more comfortable.”

If she thought it was beneath her to dine in the kitchen, she was rather wisely keeping it to herself. Piandao gestured to the table for Azula to seat herself, but paid no attention to whether she followed the direction or not. His focus was on one of the pots on the stove. He poured some of its dark contents into a cup. Its rich, bitter fumes breathed some promises of life into his weary frame. 

Piandao leaned against the table, drinking it straight in its purest form, the way it had been badgered into him to do.

“What is that?” Azula asked. She wandered over to perch on one of the seats across from him, her curiosity getting the better of her. 

“Coffee,” he answered, and took another drink before he continued, “you’re welcome to try some, but it is rather bitter to swallow.”

“Most things in my life are,” she sniped in a withering sort of tone. Circling the table, Azula helped herself to a brimming cup, despite his warnings. She basked in its steam for a moment or two before she took a long sip. An immediate grimace distorted her features as the bitter drink passed through her lips. Azula spat the contents back into her cup, forcing Piandao to hide his amusement behind his own drink. “That’s simply vile.”

He chuckled. “It’s an acquired taste. One an old friend spent many years forcing me to develop before I could stomach it.” Piandao leaned across the table to take her cup from her. Azula watched as he poured out its contents, replenishing it with a generous amount of space left behind in the cup. He stirred in a small amount of cream and a lump of sugar before passing the new concoction back to her. “You might find it more enjoyable this way.”

Azula took a dubious sip, her features relaxing and eyes rounding in an instant pleasure. “That’s more acceptable,” she said and took another sip.

Piandao took a calculated risk, with Azula’s temporary lull to ask, “Princess, have you at the very least done a small amount of bending in private since beginning this rebellion of yours?”

“No, of course not,” Azula snapped. Her answer came colored in disgust and indignation. She took another sip of the weak coffee to collect herself, and Piandao took advantage of her mouth being full to continue. 

“I see, and are you aware that spending prolonged periods of time without utilizing your bending can be damaging?”

It was true and not simply a tall-tale designed to frighten her from her rebellion. There had been proven cases of soldiers released from enemy prisons. A few returned weaker casks of the benders they once were. Some lost the ability to ever bend again, the sparks doused from their eyes. Others returned with their palms blackened-their flames, with no other outlet to escape from, burning them inside out. 

Fates to wish on no one. 

Especially not a girl of only eleven, with so much potential to grow into. But even if his words had been designed to frighten her, it seemed they wouldn’t have been effective. Azula simply shrugged in response, “Yes, well so can watching half of your brother’s face being burnt off.”

Both of them were quiet for some time after that, draining their coffees to the most bitter dredges at the bottom of their cups. Similar progress on bowls of rice porridge came after that. When the bowls had been scraped and there were no more distractions to be had between them, Piandao let out a long breath..“I’m sorry you had to witness that,” he said. 

“I’m not,” she answered.

“No?” He took their bowls to the wash basin to soak, soft clatters echoed through the kitchen between them before she spoke again.

“No. I wish it hadn’t happened at all, of course, but it did and no one can change that now. But I can help alter where things go from here, and I intend to do it to the best of my abilities.”

Piandao was struck with the fact that, unlike some of her other statements, this was somehow one of the less self-important things she’d said. Not to mention one of the most endearing, a lofty goal to accomplish for a girl whose feet weren’t even able to scrape the ground from her place at the table. There was strength and drive in spades, if only she’d allow it to be harnessed in ways that wouldn’t be so detrimental to her.

Perhaps she would in time, as it seemed time in each other’s presences was something they would have in excess. 

“Would it be too forward for me to inquire what exactly you intend for the results of your rebellion to be?” He asked. Azula’s gaze turned to a dissecting one again for a moment, it only took him a moment to determine the reason for it, “You can rest assured my stipend for your blades apprenticeship is not nearly enough to add being an informant for your personal business to my list of duties.”

“That sounds like something a spy would say,” she pointed out, her lips pursing.

Piandao rolled his eyes, “And only a spy would waste his breath on convincing you he wasn’t a spy, which I have no intention of doing,” he pointed out. Azula snickered, her diplomatic image fading back into being a little girl again at an unsettling speed. 

“Fine, I’ll tell you,” she said, her voice taking on a hushed and conspiratorial tone despite the two of them being the only ones in the kitchen, “It’s simple. I want the terms of Zuz-Zuko’s banishment to end and for him to be welcomed home regardless of whether he has the Avatar or not.”

“And you think your father will agree to those terms?”

“Obviously, or I wouldn’t be here.” He supposed she had a point, though her tone left something to be desired in the area of respect.“So, what now?” The princess said almost brightly, in another abrupt shift of her tone and mood.

What indeed, Piandao wondered, what indeed?

Chapter Text

“That depends on you, doesn’t it?” he asked, pouring himself another cup of coffee. “My answer is contingent on your willingness to be taught, and from what you have indicated you have no intention of being a willing participant at this stage.” Azula shook her head to confirm the statement, “Then you will be responsible for entertaining yourself,” he paused, fixing her with a stern gaze, “in nondestructive outlets, preferably.”

Azula’s brows furrowed. “Are you really telling me just to go play?” The princess was baffled. That was it? She’d all but admitted treason to him, was refusing to do the very thing she’d been sent to him to do, and she was being sent off to play-only missing a condescending pat on the top of her head.

“While the stipend I receive covers your room and board and lessons, my duties do not extend to your personal entertainment,” he explained. Azula leaned her elbows on the table, cradling her chin against her knuckles. The posture forced a slight pout into her lips. “There is no requirement to play if it doesn’t interest you,” he continued and explained, “You’ll find the castle boasts an extensive library, a studio for art and music, and a parlor with a large collection of games.” 

Azula had the distinct impression that most of the options he had just presented were somehow designed to hone blade skills, however indirect his methods were. She didn’t answer, so Piandao pressed on, “There are also the grounds and surrounding areas to explore.”

“What did Zuko do in his free time while he was here?” she asked, as if the concept of leisure time had never actually occurred to her before.

Piandao shook his head. “Practiced incessantly until his calluses had calluses, I’m afraid,” he answered honestly. Though not the most naturally talented pupil, Prince Zuko had been the most driven and dedicated to the craft by far. Piandao lost count of the number of times that he was forced to peel the boy’s shaking fingers from the handle of a sword. There were days he had just short of dragged Zuko into the stables himself just to get him to do anything else.

The princess nodded, “That sounds like Zuko.”

“That being said, if you are ever in the art studio, you might find a few of his drawings and paintings on the shelves,” he tacked on and enjoyed how quickly her eyes rounded in wonder. 

“And what about Lulu,” she flushed as the childish nickname rolled off her tongue. Azula sat up straighter, her posture more rigid and she cleared her throat to correct herself, “I mean Lu Ten, what about him?”

Piandao’s expression turned to a rueful sort of smile, he rubbed his temples before delivering his answer with all the diplomacy he could muster, “I find myself rather hesitant to tell you about his pastimes, lest you attempt to replicate them, Princess.”

Azula’s eyes danced, with a mischievous sort of gleam. Any residual chagrin she was experiencing from her slip of the tongue had faded. “He climbed on the roof here too, didn’t he?” She asked. Her grin spread wider as Master Piandao winced and nodded in agreement.

“And the walls.”

“Unsurprising, but you don’t need to worry about that,” she said, taking in the beginnings of consternation through his features, “climbing on buildings isn't exactly my idea of fun.” Her remarks did little to put him at ease. 

“May I ask how it is that you intend to entertain yourself?”

“I thought my entertainment was none of your concern,” she countered, batting her eyelids in a mockery of innocence and pushing herself to her feet. “But if you must know, I’ll be perfecting my cartwheels in the back gardens.” She was out the kitchen before Piandao could respond, the door swinging shut behind her.

Piandao wasn’t certain he believed her, but it would be simple enough to verify. Though not before he savored the rest of his coffee. Besides, the princess had voiced a distinct lack of appreciation for surveillance. It would be an experiment to see what conceding to her desires for agency would bring about. He sipped his coffee, determined not to investigate her goings on until midday at least.

His resolve to stay away only lasted an hour, dwindling like the final dredges of coffee in the bottom of his cup-ones Piandao had allowed to grow cold. He sighed, pushed himself to his feet, set the cup in the wash basin, and made his way out of the kitchens and the furthest courtyard where Azula said she would be.

The princess was flat on her back when he saw her, stray bits of grass poking out between the gaps in her braids. Her hands rested on her chest, stained from the dirt. Azula’s eyes seemed to be scanning the sky, for what, he didn’t know.

Piandao cleared his throat to announce his presence, before he could be accused of spying again, “Had enough of the cartwheels?” He asked. 

Azula turned over on her stomach, resting her chin against her arms and shrugging in his direction. “For now. Why? Do you have more recommendations for how I should be spending the time of my rebellion?” 

“No, but I was considering a walk into town if you would like to accompany me?”

The girl hummed, “I suppose.” She stood up and shook off the worst of the grass and dirt off her clothes and hands. Blades of grass still clung to her braids as she crossed to his side.

“If I may?” he leaned over and plucked the worst of the offending strands of grass from her braids. Wordlessly, Azula fell into step alongside him on the path. Piandao had taken this same walk with any number of his students, her brother and cousin being no exceptions. Both of them chattering on about whatever they pleased. 

But Princess Azula strode along in unnerving silence. He appreciated the quiet to a certain extent. That being said, in this particular case, it was off putting because her silence didn’t indicate an absence of thoughts. It merely indicated she was choosing not to share them.

Her eyes were scanning again, soaking in Shu Jing as their path merged into the side of a narrow road and the serenity of the castle gave way to the bustle of the markets. Not that it was particularly crowded, but the contrast was sharp. 

Azula closed the distance between herself and Master Piandao, her shoulder brushing against his arm.“Is there a particular objective for this outing?” she asked. 

“Is fresh air not enough of an objective for you?”

“Is the air in the back gardens not fresh enough?” Azula countered his challenge.

Chuckling, Piandao directed her toward a cluster of stalls down one of the side streets, “It is, however, my courtyards do not boast the best markets in Shu Jing.” He stopped at one of the stalls, exchanging pleasantries and a few copper pieces for a brimming wax paper packet of shiny, colorful sweets. 

Azula’s eyes narrowed. She was fairly certain there was more to their excursion than just procuring candy–the best candy in Shu Jing or otherwise. Before she could ask more probing questions a leather ball rolled into her path. The princess frowned, and moved to side-step it like the inconvenience it was. A brief scan of the side street revealed a small contingent of kids peering out between the gaps of one of the tents. They eyed her and the ball expectantly.

Piandao tipped his head in the direction of the ball, “I don’t consider myself to be an expert in the pastimes young people, Princess, but I do believe they’re waiting for you to kick it back.”

Azula sniffed. “I’m aware.” She made no movements beyond a slight, skyward roll of her eyes. “I don’t play with peasants. It’s unbecoming,” she said, speaking with far more conviction and superiority than a girl who was still sporting an accidental crown of grass blades had the right to display. 

“I highly doubt it is a matter of public record or advertisement that you’ve taken temporary residence in Shu Jing. No one would recognize you and your reputation would remain intact if you did join the game.” Azula’s only response was a wrinkle of her nose. “Suit yourself,” Piandao said. 

Letting out a soft sigh, he gave the ball a well-aimed kick back between the tents. It rolled away with a series of hollers from the children that receded into the bustle of the market crowd, carrying them further away until they were lost to it completely. Rather than continue the conversation, Piandao reached into the paper packet and removed an amber piece of rice candy. He moved to put it in his mouth.

“What are those?” Azula asked.

Piandao smirked, “Oh, I’m sure you would find these far too common for your interests.”

Azula’s eyes narrowed, recognizing his baiting for what it was, but letting herself fall into it regardless, “I believe I can decide that for myself.”

Shrugging, he passed one of the sweets to her. Azula accepted the offering but she seemed to hesitate, rolling it between her fingers and feeling the sugar’s slight give beneath its crinkling wrapper. “What do you do with it?” she asked.

“Eat it.”

A huff of exasperation escaped her mouth. The hand that wasn’t holding the sweet found its perch on her hip. “Obviously, but do you chew it? Suck on it? Leave the wrapper on or remove it? What is the optimal way to consume it?” 

“Not everything requires a strategy, Princess.”