Chapter Text
The Academy was in a flurry.
Princess Azula, granddaughter of Fire Lord Azulon, had been signed up to attend at the last minute.
“Prince Ozai,” the headmistress bowed. “It is our honour to have your daughter in our school. She will flourish here, as her great-aunt General Reiko did before her.”
“For your sake, that had better happen,” said Ozai. He eyed the headmistress up and down, from her greying hair to her stiff starched robes. Princess Azula paid neither of them any mind. She was examining a display of throwing knives.
“Those, Princess,” said a teacher eagerly, “Are over two hundred years old. They were used by the renowned assassin-”
“Open the case,” ordered Azula. The teacher paled, but obeyed. There was a scatter as someone was dispatched to fetch the keys.
“I trust the Princess will be given every privilege in training,” said Ozai. “Private tutors, prime access to training grounds. The school will be compensated accordingly.”
---
It was not unheard of for children of the royal family to attend school, but it was certainly not expected. Zuko was tutored privately within the confines of the palace, partly due to Ursa’s protectiveness, partly because Ozai felt he would bring shame to the family. Azula, by contrast, had a dominant streak.
Her presence edified the school, but this didn’t matter to the other eight-year-old girls, who resented the special treatment she received. Lo and Li warned her that there would be social climbers eager to ingratiate themselves with the Princess, but this was not needed. Azula spent a week eating lunch alone, until a girl with a braid tied in pink ribbon dared to join her.
Ty Lee, as she introduced herself, chattered incessantly. She brought Mai Lobsang with her, whom Azula recognized from official events. She wore her hair in two buns and sat in sullen silence unless directly prompted.
That night, Azula had her father’s secretary look through the official registry. Ty Lee was one of six daughters. Though noble, her father had no title, and was content to shuffle papers in the Ministry of Tourism.
Ty Lee was neither bothered by her low position, nor envious of Azula’s. She had romantic notions, was always begging the group to play circus or flower shop or house. She was extremely bothered when the teachers confused her with her sisters. It wasn’t their fault: Ty Lee and her sisters were so alike that even their parents sometimes mixed them up. The only people who never did so were Azula, Mai, and their nanny.
“Your sisters are all blah,” Azula told Ty Lee decisively. “You are different. You are special.” Ty Lee beamed. Azula held herself with such authority, and everyone deferred to her, so that Ty Lee believed her wholeheartedly.
In class, the textbooks claimed that Prince Ozai had been exploring economic opportunities in the underdeveloped Fire Nation tropics, only to win the heart of a great local beauty. Her mother, they claimed, was renowned for her culture and accomplishments. She’d fallen at the Prince’s feet, proclaiming her life in service to his, which her father magnanimously accepted.
Ty Lee didn’t believe it when Azula announced that the story was fake.
“Isn’t it obvious?” Prince Lu Ten’s mother was a scion of a military dynasty. Through her, the Fire Lord retained the support of the Han-Fai clan and its iron ore. Azula’s mother was a scion of nothing. Prince Ozai was not magnanimous, he was a machine dedicated to the war, and would never willingly squander his heirs and the position of his sole legal consort on a village woman from a backwater. Lastly, no one cared to develop the tropics near Hira’a. The land was swampy and the water was brackish. No good could come of there.
“Maybe he fell in love! Oh, ‘Zula, invite me over. Please? I so badly want to see Princess Ursa,” begged Ty Lee. “Mai does too!” Azula found this hard to believe, as the latter was rolling her eyes.
That afternoon, as she practiced cartwheels in the royal gardens, Ty Lee rambled about how fun it would be to be a beautiful peasant girl swept off her feet by a prince. Azula told her pointedly that she made no sense. Who would ever wish to be a peasant girl, when Ty Lee’s father was a nobleman? Mai was tuning out their arguments and flipping through her homework book when she saw him.
Prince Zuko was approaching the pond with bread in his hands. He broke it apart and gently tossed it to the turtleducks.
Ty Lee did get her wish of meeting Princess Ursa, who showed up with custard buns for Zuko.
“Oh, hello there,” said Ursa. She seemed surprised to see them, but offered a graceful smile. “I’m so glad Azula has brought home friends. Zuko, come say hi.”
He came over, groaning, but accepted Mai and Ty Lee’s bows with some semblance of amicability.
“Princess Ursa is just as pretty as I imagined,” said Ty Lee dreamily, when Azula’s mother had left.
“Lucky guess?” said Mai, dryly. Ty Lee shook her head earnestly.
“I knew she’d look like ‘Zula,” insisted Ty Lee. Azula nearly choked on her custard bun.
“I do not look like her,” said Azula, pointing an accusatory finger at Ty Lee.
“Oh no, a daughter who looks like her mother,” said Mai sarcastically. “That has never happened before.”
“I do not look like her,” repeated Azula, raising herself to her full height, “Because she looks like a peasant, and I look like a Princess.”
--
When Mai's parent's found out their daughter was accepted into the inner circle of Princess Azula, they were ecstatic.
"My parents want me to invite you over," said Mai. "Well, mostly Azula, but they said Ty Lee could come too."
Dinner was sumptuous, as no expense was spared to impress the Princess. Platypus-bear egg custards and star-apple mochi and Komodo Rhino filet and imported badger-mole pate.
“What’s this?” asked Ty Lee, picking at something in a shell.
“Why, dear, that is an elephant barnacle,” said Mai’s mother. “Only harvestable by hand from the cliffs near boiling lakes. Hasn’t your cook prepared them before?” Ty Lee shook her head.
“Well, what does your cook make?”
“Lots of noodles,” said Ty Lee. “She makes really good fire flakes. My favourite is her stuffed fried komodo chicken, but she doesn’t have time for it most days, cause she has laundry to do.”
While the girls were ushered into the gardens to play and the servants were clearing the dishes, Mai’s parents conferenced.
“That girl is no competition,” said Mai’s mother. “Their cook does the laundry? Her family cannot have more than three servants in total.”
“I told you, her father is a dunce,” said Mai’s father, and they were satisfied.
Guest bedrooms were offered, but Azula refused, as Ty Lee said the whole point of a sleepover was to hang out in Mai’s room. Mai’s parents called for mats to be brought for Mai and Ty Lee, but Azula decided the bed was big enough for three.
Under the covers, by the light of a small flame in Azula’s cupped hands, the girls told ghost stories. Frightened, Ty Lee slipped her arm through Azula’s.
“And then the Kemurikage took the girls away…never to be seen again!” finished Mai triumphantly.
Ty Lee squealed and buried her face in Azula’s hair.
“There there,” said Azula, leaning into the embrace. “I will protect us.” It was her duty, after all, as the Princess.
--
“We passed a circus on the walk to school,” said Ty Lee, practically bouncing off the walls. “There’s acrobats and trapeze artists and a Platypus-bear that juggles! Oh, I’m so excited. I hope we can go for my birthday.”
Ty Lee’s mother was furious.
“You want to go sit on hay bales with the rabble? Don’t be ridiculous. Ty Lin, you are forbidden to go.”
“I’m not Ty Lin,” cried Ty Lee. “I’m Ty Lee.” She ran out of the room and cried into her pillow.
At school the next day, Ty Lee moped. She stared listlessly out the window during class and picked at her lunch. Azula raised an eyebrow and set down her chopsticks.
“Alright, Ty Lee, what’s up?” said Azula. “Fire noodles are usually your favourite.”
“My mom says the circus is for peasants, so we can’t go,” said Ty Lee sadly.
“That’s terrible,” said Mai.
“She’s not wrong,” said Azula, and Ty Lee burst into fresh tears. Panicking, Azula grabbed her hands.
“Sorry, sorry! I’m sorry, Ty Lee, I shouldn’t have said that,” appealed Azula, guilt-stricken. “You should sneak out. You’re smart enough, and you can climb.”
Ty Lee’s eyes grew wide. “Sneak out? Without telling my parents?”
“That’s how it works, silly,” said Azula. “If you want, I’ll say we’re having a sleepover. We can all go together.”
“We’re having an early night, mother,” said Azula sweetly, and Ty Lee was amazed at how easily she lied. “We’re so tired.”
“Alright, girls,” said Ursa. She gave a little wave. “Goodnight.” As soon as Ursa left, Azula cracked the window and led the girls out through the tunnels.
The circus was, as Ty Lee’s mother predicted, packed with rabble. Outside, there were carnival games. Mai popped a series of balloons with darts and won a toy bow and arrow. Azula won a stuffed platypus-bear by setting a moving cutout of an earth-kingdom soldier on fire.
“Here,” she said, casually tossing it to Ty Lee, who hugged it tightly.
“‘Zula, you’re the coolest!”
“Shh,” said Azula, her cheeks flushing. “We don’t want to be caught.” Yet she was happy all the same.
The circus did indeed have acrobats and trapeze artists and a Platypus-bear that juggles.
“They’re really good,” said Azula. “Grandpa Azulon should draft them for the military. Not that trapeze would be useful; but some of the skills must transfer.”
Ty Lee heard none of this. She was enraptured.
“I’m sure they’re happy where they are, Azula,” said Mai.
“Who said anything about happiness? It's their duty,” said Azula, though her heart wasn’t in it. She was watching Ty Lee, who was on the edge of her seat. Her eyes were big, luminous.
--
Azula organized a raid on the Academy kitchens. There were preparations for parent’s night, and all week, shipments of exotic treats were arriving. Azula had heard the delivery-boys arguing with the Academy staff, and if some pilfering were to happen, it would likely be chalked up to issues from the merchants. They had recess some time after the lunch service, and the kitchens were sure to be unguarded.
What Azula hadn’t accounted for was the extra shift to prepare for parent’s night. Two of their compatriots had been slow, and the cook had grabbed them by the collars while the group fled.
The rest of them convened in an attic room to feast on their spoils. Ty Lee was chomping through a pile of exotic fruits, and even Mai was eating her fire-strips with relish. Azula was chewing, but her heart wasn’t in it.
“I must turn myself in,” said Azula all of a sudden.
“Seriously?” said Tai. She pulled the snacks closer to her, as if to prevent Azula from taking them back.
“The whole thing was on my orders,” sighed Azula. “I miscalculated our attack. I can’t let Ria and Lei suffer while I get off scot-free.”
Azula burst into the office and demanded to speak to Headmistress Pearl.
Headmistress Pearl was a forward-thinker, and less interested in the moral development of her charges than encouraging their abilities in planning, coordinating, and stealth. She had suspected Ria and Lei had co-conspirators, but hadn’t bothered to pursue the matter. When Azula came forward to confess, she only looked annoyed. “Really, Princess, there is no need. You were not caught.”
“They were there on my orders,” said Azula.
“We had sentenced the girls to scrubbing the gym floors. It’s beneath your dignity.”
“Doesn't matter,” said Azula defiantly. A servant had come in with buckets and scrub brushes, and Azula grabbed a set. “I will do it.”
Thus ordered, Headmistress Pearl had no choice. Princess Azula was brought to haul water and soap and shown how to scrub on her hands and knees. Azula had never done such a thing before, and gritted her teeth.
“Got room for one more?”
Azula looked up and saw a tall dark form and a short pink one.
“Ty Lee, Mai,” she said, startling. Ty Lee grinned and raised her bucket and brush.
“You didn’t think we’d let you suffer alone, did you?”
Ten minutes later, Ty Lee got up to examine their handiwork. "Wowee, that was a struggle! Oh, 'Zula, are you alright?"
"I'm fine," said Azula, wiping the corner of her eye with her shoulder. She wouldn't admit how happy she was. "I'm tearing up from the soap fumes, that's all." Ty Lee gave her a hug, and Azula didn't mind the suds she got on her clothing.
—
They took all their classes together, which was usually not allowed, but the teachers could refuse Azula nothing. The only exception was bending.
It was no big ask to get Azula private lessons. Her flame was so bright and intense, said the teachers, that they’d have taught her privately no matter what. Of course, the bulk of her instruction would happen at the Palace after school, under the guidance of Lo and Li.
At Azula’s insistence, Ty Lee and Mai were also given private lessons with the choicest instructors. Ty Lee displayed talent for cartwheels and somersaults and hand-springs, which Azula applauded, until she found Ty Lee was better than her.
“It’s only thanks to you, ‘Zula,” insisted Ty Lee. “‘Cause of the lessons! You’re the best friend ever!” Azula mulled this over.
“You’re right,” said Azula, satisfied. “I am.”