Chapter Text
Firelord Sozin was dead to begin with. There was no doubt about that. For over one hundred years, the old monarch of the great Fire Nation had been dead– his son Firelord Azulon had ruled after him, and his son Firelord Ozai after him. Now, ten years into Ozai’s reign, with Prince Zuko poised to be the next Firelord, one thing was clear as day: Firelord Sozin was as dead as a doornail. This very fact must first be distinctly understood, or nothing wonderful can come from this story…
Now, Zuko was Prince of the Fire Nation, next in line to inherit the throne. Recently returned from his exile after killing the Avatar, Zuko was preparing to spend Christmas in Caldera City Palace for the first time in three long years. He was a grumpy, ill-tempered prince, always scowling and snapping, and his mood got progressively worse as the holidays approached.
Once upon a time –of all the good days of the year, on Christmas Eve, Zuko sat in the highest security prison in the Fire Nation, underneath the palace. At this time, there was only one prisoner he was interested in: Sokka of the Water Tribe, a boy who had been traveling with the Avatar and had recently been captured. Zuko’s father, who thought the Avatar was dead, wanted Sokka for information about the Northern Water Tribe resistance, but Zuko, who knew the truth, wanted Sokka for an entirely different reason.
The prison was lit by fire on all sides, and Sokka was chained with wrists to the ceiling and ankles to the floor.
“Is there a reason you keep it so hot in here?” Sokka asked, annoyed. “Can you turn down the fire a little bit?”
“Quiet,” Zuko snapped. “Where’s the Avatar?”
In response, the Water Tribe boy only glared.
Zuko opened his mouth to ask again, but the door to the prison opened and cut him off.
“Merry Christmas Zuzu!” cried a cheerful voice. It was the voice of Zuko’s sister, Azula, who came upon him so quickly that this was the first intimation he had of her approach.
“Bah,” said Zuko. “Humbug!”
Azula twirled one of her bangs with her finger. “Christmas a humbug Zuzu?” She tilted her head at him, teasing. “You don’t mean that, I’m sure.”
“I do,” scowled Zuko. “Merry Christmas… What right have you to be merry? We’re at war.”
“What right have you to be dismal? You’re home. The Avatar’s dead. Your honor’s restored.” Azula flashed him a smirk that made his insides twist horribly.
Zuko, having no better answer ready on the spur of the moment, said “Bah,” again, and followed it up with “Humbug.”
“Don’t be so cross, Zuzu,” drawled Azula with a roll of her eyes.
“What else can I be?” returned Zuko, turning away from both Azula and the Water Tribe prisoner to stare at the flickering fire, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. “When I live in a place like this. Merry Christmas… Merry Christmas…” He scoffed. “What’s Christmas but a time for fake smiles and telling everyone you love them when you don’t, people in the streets wishing you a happy holidays and calling you a prince…” he trailed off, glaring at the fire. “If I could work my will, every idiot who goes about with ‘Merry Christmas’ on his lips should be boiled in his own fire gummies and buried with a stake of holly through his heart.”
“Zuzu!” gasped Azula.
“Azula!” Returned Zuko sternly. “Keep Christmas in your own way, and let me keep it in mine.”
“Keep it?” Azula laughed mockingly. “But you don’t keep it.”
“Let me leave it alone then,” Zuko scowled. “Much good Christmas may do you. Much good it has ever done any of us…”
“Well,” Azula said with a huff. “I like Christmas. I like getting presents, and I’ve already picked out the presents I’m getting Mai, Ty Lee, you, and Father this year. Have you picked out a present for Father yet?”
Zuko didn’t answer, continuing to glare into the fire.
“Is that why you’re in such a bad mood?” Sokka asked. “You haven’t gotten your Christmas gifts yet? It’s the day before, Zuko. You’re kind of late to the game.”
“One more snarky comment from you, peasant, and all your ships will be burned,” Zuko snarled.
“Oh, don’t be so emotional, Zuzu,” Azula said with a roll of her eyes. “Come on! Have dinner with me, Ty Lee, and Mai tomorrow.”
“I would rather be eaten by a Komodo Rhino.”
“Why are you so mean?” Azula pouted.
“Good bye, Azula.”
“I want nothing from you. I ask nothing from you. I just want to be friends, Zuzu.”
“I said good bye,” Zuko said firmly.
“Well, you may not want to have a Merry Christmas, but I hope you have one anyway.”
“Good bye.”
“And a Happy New Year!”
“Good bye.”
Azula rolled her eyes, muttering under her breath that her brother was so dramatic, and left the prison without an angry word. With her gone, Zuko turned back to Sokka.
“Tomorrow’s Christmas,” Sokka said.
“I hadn’t noticed,” Zuko returned dryly.
“In Water Tribe custom, all prisoners are given parole on Christmas, so they can go see their family and friends, and they come back the next day.”
Zuko crossed his arms over his chest. He wasn’t this gullible. “We aren’t in the Water Tribe,” he said through gritted teeth.
“True,” Sokka said with a sad sigh. “But, as future Firelord, you might have the option to start a new tradition. I think that would make you pretty popular.”
“I don’t want to be popular.”
“You’re a real ray of sunshine, you know that?”
“You’re not getting out of here.”
“Not even for Christmas?” Sokka asked hopefully.
Zuko growled. “No.”
Sokka hung his head and sighed. “Worth a shot.”