Chapter Text
Most mornings were very slow for the entire city. Ba Sing Se, a city that now almost never sleeps, can be found vacant and quiet during the early light of dawn. Quiet stirrings of merchants roaming through the still streets and alleyways to their shops along with the soft bubbles of school children marching off faded into the hard grunts of each throw. The practice target, a large hay scarecrow tied to a boulder, was burned to a crisp. Blue flames faded into curling smoke that ascended into the cool morning spring air.
“It seems that you don’t need to spend much time on the basics. Come, I have the kettle ready.”
Stubborn as always, Azula reared back and threw one last blast of fire at the target. She was composed, the only hint of her exertion came from the small fog of her breath and the sweating that clung to her short cut hair. It missed the target, a dark scorch mark marked the boulder left of the scare crow.
“It seems you’ve overextended yourself. Come, we all require some sustenance to continue living.” Iroh motioned to the fancy cup set across the blanket.
“I missed.” She noted, the knuckles on her fists turning white. The painful dip in her stomach forced her out of her brewing thoughts. “Perhaps, I could use something to eat.”
Iroh watched his niece begrudgingly sit and take up her breakfast. The sombering silence between them grew into the content that they both had formed through time. She waited, watching from the side of her cup, but no remark came from the old man about her training. An orange sky steadily faded into blue with forest to their backs. The shop will open soon.
Prep work for the few meals they served along with various kettles drowned the kitchen in warmth and chatter from the few workers. Their voices died down when she entered, Azula’s imposing silence often had that effect on them. Or it could have been from the time she blackmailed Mili, who was nowhere in sight, to do Azula’s tasks for her. The work was beneath her and the poor girl didn’t realize how obvious she had been for trying to steal and trade Uncle Iroh’s new jasmine peach tea recipe.
Before she could scold Lene for spilling a kettle for the third time this week, Iroh called for her. Azula found her uncle in the small supply closet with an apron in hand.
“Are you serving your customers again?”
“I was hoping you would join me this time.” He held out the apron, a calm smile betraying nothing for her to latch onto.
“You know that is beneath me.” Azula leaned against the door with her arms folded. “I know that I was sent to help and for a change in environment, but I stop at wearing an apron and serving citizens.”
Iroh chuckled. “As long as you remain with me, we are now one of them. It is just for the day since one of the other servers suddenly quit yesterday. I don’t ask that you smile or talk, just serve our tea, niece."
There was no malice or coldness behind his hazel eyes. Just an uncomfortable ease that drew envy from the princess. With her chin high, Azula took the apron. It was only for a day after all, and serving tea didn’t require much talking.
“Fine.”
People poured in through the door as the morning rush came in. Many of them were workers from the local mines or on their way to different rings of the city. Steam rose from every cup, in succinct movements and small tweaks. Azula was fast to pour and serve the entire left side of the shop. She didn’t speak nor acknowledged the people she served, despite the various ‘thank yous’ and compliments she would receive. The job was easy, repetitive, and allowed her mind to roam as life threw its theatrics and secrets were spilled in the shop.
Slowly, the crowd had thinned with the high noon sun spilling its light through the large windows and open sliding door entrance. The tiled floor with the dragon mural held a matt shine and brightened the green and yellow interior of the Jasmine Dragon. Everything grew still for a while, allowing time for Azula to find a nice corner table near the window and eat the blossom peach she’d stolen from the back.
“Excuse me, is this seat taken?”
She didn’t turn to the voice, eyes trained on the iguana parrot fighting a cat owl atop of a shingle roof. “No.”
“Great.” A clutter of noise followed his response. Azula watched the young man drown the empty table with scrolls and some tools she’d never seen before. “Because this is my favorite spot out of the whole tea shop and I’d hate to lose the view. Sorry for the mess here. ”
Without missing a beat, he opened a few scrolls and began scribbling away. One of the servers tried to approach the table, but the princess waved them off and watched the man before her scribble away with subtle intrigue. The beams of light in the shop drew smaller, marking the long pass of time before she spoke.
“You do realize this is not a workshop.” The peach pit rested on her side of the table with her golden eyes on the schematics sprawled out before him.
This drew his attention, bright brown eyes wide and trained on her. “Oh! Sorry, would you like some tea? I could order something for both of us. I don’t usually get this carried away. ”
“My break is over anyway.” Azula stood from her spot. That’s when his eyes trained back to her apron and his brows flew up. It was at that moment she noticed that he had been sitting in a wheelchair. “What would you like?”
She took his order down noting the larger scroll he had slightly shielded from her gaze. When she returned with the kettle and the mug full of apple and peach blossoms to start, Azula spoke.
“I rarely witness people order this drink. It pairs nicely with the moonpeach cake we have here.” She said, pointing to the table behind him where an elderly couple were eating some.
“Is that all-”
“Teo. Yes, that’s all. Please be sure to add the cake you recommended.”
With his eyes back on the scroll and lead pencil tapping a soft rhythm, Azula gracefully poured his cup of tea and made her way back to the kitchen. She had someone else serve the cake, sneaking past the few cooks in the kitchen and sat in the small room of her uncle’s office. It was barely one to begin with, with the lower floor desk and the wide tapestry rug adorning the floor, Azula often used the spare room to hide. She pulled out the scroll hidden within the fold of her green commoner robe.
On the stolen scroll was a drawing followed by thoroughly written columns of ideas and arrows. It took a few tries to decode the many shortened phrases and jargon sprinkled through the design plans. It was some tool, a propeller for the chair that looked to be drawn like the one she witnessed him in. She stuffed it into the bottom space of the office’s cabinet and made her way back to serving tables.
She continued on, silently serving tea and listening in on the gossip of the town. Azula tried to ignore the man from earlier, Teo, who was still seated in that back window with the large window into the garden. Most of the other customers from the afternoon and evening came and went, but that table in the back only grew with company until it came time to close the shop.
A shadow cast over the rambunctious group. Teo was the last to notice the imposing women with cold eyes trained on him. “Sir, we are closing.”
“Oh, of course. We apologize for over staying.” They all gathered their things in haste, with the young man stuffing all of his scrolls and supplies in a satchel attached to his chair.
“Nonsense,” Iroh beamed, holding a broom in hand that sharply contrasted with his “it’s a pleasure having such a lively group here. The shop becomes more vibrant with you all.”
It was clear to the princess of her uncle’s intention. Azula watched carefully as the group avoided her side of the table and gave heartfelt farewells to Iroh. She had her back turned, cleaning up a table when the sound of wheels whirring close by before it stopped at the entrance.
“Have a good night, miss.” Teo bowed. He left without expecting a greeting back and held a warm almost knowing smile.
With a tray in her arms and against her better judgement, Azula stood before the entrance and watched the boy make his way down the stone path. It was uncanny of her, standing there and waiting until him and the other characters he had gathered with fell into the curtain of night.
“What a kind young man. He’s been our best customer since last year.” Iroh carefully studied his niece, trying to carefully gauge her thoughts behind the serene mask.
“I’m going to the market tomorrow. Would you like to join me?”
She finally moved, facing her uncle with a graceful guard and barely disguised irritation. “I could use some better lotions and a new file.”
With that, the pair closed the sliding doors and finished closing up. It was mostly just Iroh closing up since he relieved the other staff from the day and Azula never helped out when it came to cleaning. Closing the shop had left the few lanterns on to draw in more darkness that spilled from the shadowy corners. Azula waited for Iroh to leave, their rooms across the large courtyard since his home was built on the plot of land behind the Jasmine Dragon. She slinked into the office, and stuffed the scroll in her sash.
‘Finally, something to do.’ she grinned, gingerly laying near the small candle next to her bed.
Time spent living here in the city had forced the princess to accustom herself with losing the comforts of the large fire nation palace. There was no massive library she could get lost in alone and rediscover ancient scrolls that piqued her interests. Instead, Azula found herself devouring the scroll before her, trying to decode the various names and shorthand vernacular sprawled across the diagram and built into winding paragraphs throughout. It promised a challenge, something she missed.
The market wasn't as busy that day. Another fruit vender had found a way to captivate her uncle which in turn gave Azula the chance to slip away from the crowd. She carried herself with much more gumption that day now that her hair had been done and the spa’s fragrant oil smoothed the aches and edges out of her body. Everything felt lighter and more bright than she had felt in a long time. Leisurely walking between the various shop windows and tall buildings had caused her mind to wander.
Apple blossoms. The cart was covered in a mountainous amount of it. She watched the shop owner and a different customer, both talking aimlessly about the weather. With a bundle in hand, Azula tried to calmly walk away. The trick was to be relaxed yet purposeful. Not many people questioned someone who looked like they belonged, but the owner had noticed.
“Ma’am. Are you going to pay for that?”
Azula patted the side of her robes, feigning a more naive tone. “Oh, I was. It seems that I’ve lost my pouch.”
“No you didn’t,” the other customer spoke. The man glared at her, almost cutting through her facade. “You were trying to steal that bundle!”
“No, I wasn’t. I could have sworn I had it with me.”
She tried taking a few small steps back, only to bump into a hard body behind her. The voice belonging to that body was deep and full of suspicion. “Where do you think you’re going?”
The princess found herself trapped, the man behind her shoving her towards the owner. She refused to be intimidated, holding back an internal smirk as she recalled how easy it would be to take them down. The only problem with that plan was the guard standing across the road now watching them. Just as she was about to turn around and return the bundle, a different voice chimed in. The familiar sound colored her with surprise.
“Oh there you are! I was wondering where you went.” Teo spoke, closing the distance with a few waves at the three men surrounding her. “I told you not to leave my side. You made me so worried.”
“Sir, do you know this woman?”
Azula decided to take refuge beside Teo from the men, seizing an opening behind his wheelchair in case she needed to run. The young man had somehow smoothed over the entire encounter.
“Yes, she’s my-uh…wife. I hope she didn’t cause any issues, she can be very mischievous."
That drew soft glare from Azula, but the men around her seemed to have bought into it.
“She claimed to have left her pouch and was about to run off with my blossoms.”
“Ah yes. Here.” He fumbled with something at the side of his wheelchair and handed the cart owner a few silver coins. “She often refers to me as her pouch. It’s an inside joke.”
That made all three of the men laugh and gave Azula room to slip away. She had made it around a few intersections and alleyways, tracing back the familiar shops and building designs. An argument echoed down the long stone roads where Uncle Iroh stood, swinging his arms out with a melon in hand to emphasize whatever argument he got himself into. Knowing her foolish uncle, it was most likely about the prices.
“How can you supply such low quality fruit and claim it’s fresh. There’s a bruise right here! You should be ashamed of yourself.”
Azula stepped in, knowing that this type of argument could last all day. There was Pai shoa night at the shop and Iroh couldn't be late, again. So she bartered with the merchant, cornering him with the false competition of a fake fruit stand with better fruit for less.
“It would be bad business if the whole block knew of your scam. Such a shame, I guess we could go to the new melon cart down the block, I heard they sell for less than silver and have no bruises.”
“Look, I’m not lowering the price! It’s 10 silver coins per melon.”
“Really? Is that how you treat a loyal customer of 5 years?” She leaned in, lazily toying with the melon before her and poking at its visibly bruised skin. The visible indent from her touch drew the wandering eye of another customer. “I’m sure it could impact your business to lose someone who has been faithfully buying bundles from you, let alone the owner of the Jasmine Dragon. I’m sure our customers would be interested in hearing about this.”
With the new fresh discounted melons in hand, Iroh held a wide grin through the market. Azula glanced at him and could only sigh, a slight smirk graced her tinted lips. Now with their shopping done, the two made their way back to the shop, preparing for the famous Pai sho night. It was mostly an event that gave Iroh a chance to reconnect with friends and others who had helped in liberating Ba Sing Se.
It was also a night where Azula had the entire house to herself. She picked at the small box in her hand, it’s lacquered dark wood sourced from the trees in the garden of the palace. It wasn’t opened, even though she had the key tied around her neck most days. The weight of it was daunting at times, Azula preferred it that way. A silent pulling force for the chaos. In the box was the last of Ursa’s belongings, something Zuko had handed over during his visit at the asylum, after their mother had passed away. And no matter how much her mind screamed at her to open it, Azula tucked it back into the dresser.
Her mind grew steady with those stolen plans of the propeller in her hands. Azula had managed to understand the words on the page, but was now trying to make sense of the science. She may have been well studied in most things, but flight outside of the mechanics of a war balloon was entirely different. Despite this challenge, a soft smirk graced her features and she continued to reread the passage, piecing the puzzles together and storing away the strange events at the market into the depths of her mind.
“No man who can write this could be that naive.” She huffed, tapping her filed down nails on the wooden floor with the candle’s light fluttering from the wind blowing through the window.
The night continued on until she couldn’t hold her dropping eyes open any longer. Luckily, she wouldn’t have to serve at the shop and could afford to sleep in. With a soft wave of her hand, Azula snuffed out the candle light and settled into her bed. She didn’t have to worry about undoing her hair tie now that her hair was cropped close to her head. The last thing she recalled as her eyes shut out the dark room was the soft chorus of insects through the window, letting her imagine it was the same one she’d hear in the courtyard of the palace.