Archive of Our Own ^beta

She sat in the canoe.

The moon was setting.

A portion of her people would be returning only now to their homes, settling down on their furs and sending a prayer to Tui as thanks for their waterbending.

Another portion, albeit a larger one, was already asleep. They would not wake until the sun had already risen high into the sky, warming the frigid air.

Ilah, youngest daughter of Chief Taktuq, looked up into the sky.

It was only in the hours between the moonset and the sun reaching its peak that she could feel truly alone. It was only in those hours that the Princess could enjoy her thoughts in privacy.

She pulled the fur gloves from her hands, resting them on the sides of the canoe. The paddle sat useless between her legs.

She was a waterbender, she should be asleep, resting now that the energy from the full moon had left her body. Yet she knew that if she left, she would miss her chance to practice. 

One hand raised and moved fluidly in the air. The canoe moved forward once more.

She knew her mother and father loved her. Yet she also knew they were unwilling to bend tradition. Thus, the Princess failed time and time again at healing. And that was all she was permitted to try.

For a people that claimed to flow and adapt just as water did, they were hard as ice in tradition.

Princess Ilah was drowning in her own home. She was drowning and no one was willing to offer her a hand.

The canoe stilled and she stepped out of it, onto an icy path. Her gloves slid back onto her hands as she continued her morning journey, allowing the sun to warm her bones.

She was devoted to Tui, praying each evening as she rose into the sky. Tui was the one who bestowed upon her her power.

And how dare her people? They acknowledged their gift from Tui herself, yet forbade their women from utilizing the whole of her gifts?

Ilah sometimes felt as if her people were fools. They worshipped Tui, yet rejected her femininity. Even still, they acknowledged La’s masculinity in tandem with his dual nature of destruction and creation.

Without the sea, her people would have no food. They knew that.

Ilah was devoted to Tui but she was no fool. She turned her cheek to the side to feel Agni’s warmth touch it as he crept higher in his eternal chase of his wife. Her people ignored Agni, after all, he patroned the Fire Nation. He patroned the very same people attacking them now.

But Ilah was no fool.

She knew their lives were little more than blips to the spirits, in their immortal greatness. She knew their wars were nothing more than games to the spirits.

She did not fault them for this. She knew the spirits loved them, it was just not in their nature to understand.

Her people ignored Agni, but not Ilah. Ilah murmured her prayers to Tui each evening as she rose and to Agni each morning as he rose.

Her breath hung in the air in front of her eyes. Water was in her, she was one with her element. She knew it was the same with firebenders, they too felt their element’s presence within them in every moment.

She wondered how earthbenders handled it. They could be separated from their element so easily. It was never truly a part of them like water was for her.

And airbenders. As deceased as they were now, Ilah had faith they would return. It wasn’t the nature of the world to remain out of balance. 

Airbenders borrowed their element, but they quickly let it go. They were always surrounded. It was impossible to separate them from their element—unless you drown them, her mind crooned. Unless you bury them. Fire consumes air until nothing remains and it too dies—yet it would never truly be part of them.

Princess Ilah stood on the wall, looking out at La’s domain. She was the youngest, not to mention a girl. She would never inherit her father’s position, would never hold the title of Chief, yet she also knew she would never escape.

She was drowning.

She sat, legs hanging over the edge. 

La would never harm her. He loved his sister far too much, and Tui had a fondness for Ilah.

None of her family realized how the moon shone upon her. How her blue eyes turned nearly silver in her light. How her waterbending was more natural than even the masters of the tribe.

But Ilah knew it. And that was all that mattered.

One day, she would be free.

She would breathe again.

A ship approached. It was larger than any merchant ship she had ever seen. Not only that, but it seemed to be made of metal.

It was, without a doubt, Fire Nation. Only they had the necessary technology and power to create something so large yet entirely out of metal.

She had seen the ships before, but only from a distance as they approached for another raid that would inevitably fail.

The Fire Nation would not conquer the Northern Water Tribe as easily as they had the Air Nomads fifteen years ago. Did they take them as fools?

(Had she not just called her people fools for forsaking Agni? For denying the femininity of Tui?)

She felt the rumbling through the ice as the waterbenders—still awake despite Tui’s absence. Not by choice, she knew—allowed the ship to enter.

Something was happening. There was a reason her father allowed passage to a Fire Nation ship.

A reason Ilah had not been permitted to know.

Perhaps because she was the youngest.

Perhaps because she was a daughter .

It mattered little.

Tui and Agni smiled down on Ilah.

She would find out one way or another.

Ilah was not water that moved out of the way for others.

Ilah was the thin sheet of ice unassuming hunters stepped on, only to be caught by the freezing depths below, doomed to sink to the bottom.

She stepped down to meet the ship.

The first person to step off took her breath from her.

What did they feed them in the Fire Nation?

Tall, but with the remnants of baby fat still clinging to his cheeks. He couldn’t have been more than two or three years older than her. But his eyes were a blazing gold that bored into her own and she couldn’t help but feel drawn in.

He placed his fist under his palm and bowed, just low enough to be respectful but maintain his rank. Whatever it was, he was important.

“I am Prince Azulon.” The boy cleared his throat, a slight tinge of pink on her cheeks. Though, that might’ve been the biting wind. He wasn’t dressed very well for the weather. “I am Crown Prince Azulon, son of Fire Lord Sozin. I’m here to proceed with the peace talks with Chief Taktuq on behalf of my father.”

So her father was seeking peace with the Fire Nation? 

Ice crept through her veins. She was never given information like this so freely by her own people. Nor was she given respect like this, the respect of an equal.

She responded by offering her arm and grasping his forearm when he hesitantly reached out.

It was the introduction of warriors. Of men, most in her tribe would say.

None were awake to see the breech of tradition.

“I am Princess Ilah, daughter of Chief Taktuq. I can lead you to the meeting hall, however my father will not yet be ready to meet so early.” She had seen him fast asleep as she left for her canoe ride and walk. “It is my honour to be your guide around our tribe.”

The Prince looked awkward, like he hadn’t expected this outcome. “Rather late for him to sleep, isn’t it? The sun is already risen.”

What a novel concept.

She had heard of firebenders waking with the sun. She hadn’t realized it was true for the whole of the Fire Nation.

“My people worship Tui rather than Agni. There is no reason for us to be awake as the sun rises. Rather, moonset is when most waterbenders choose to retire on nights like these.”

Said nights being the full moon. Even the nonbenders tended to find themselves a little more restless on full moons. 

“Ah... I remember reading that once.” 

He clearly didn’t, but the smile he gave her as he tried to convince her he did was sweet, in a way. 

Ilah took him to the palace the long way. She was more than capable of being silent, but it seemed that Azulon was not.

“So, uh. Do you have siblings?”

“Five.” She laughed quietly at the startled look at his face. “Of course, only two of my siblings are brothers, so there’s only two heirs. They hate each other.”

“Only two heirs?”

And wasn’t it ironic. She knew the Fire Nation placed their girls at the same priority as their boys. They had captured a few groups of soldiers. 

It had made her father very uncomfortable to execute their commander, a woman.

She may have attacked them but Ilah admired how she looked her father in the eye as she died, a sharp smile on her lips.

“Indeed. My sisters and I are not in the line of succession, that’s simply how things are done here.”

“But..”

His eyes glowed golden under Agni’s rising light.

“What if you were to be the only child?”

“Then the title of Chief would go to my husband. Then any male children of mine.” 

His eyebrows furrowed and Ilah kept her face carefully passive. Connections were important, and the son of the Firelord would be the perfect connection to have.

She would be free. She would breathe again.

“That’s odd.” He decided and crossed his arms.

He must’ve been cold.

She walked through the main doorway, immediately taking him to a sitting room. She didn’t need to light the fire pit in the centre of the room, she was comfortable in her parka.

But Azulon was eyeing it.

“May I light it?”

She had never seen firebending up close.

In fact, she had never seen firebending beyond illustrations in the scrolls she read. Her family had always kept her as far from any battles as they possibly could.

“Of course.”

Her siblings would call her foolish for it, just as she called her people foolish. They would say it was in the nature of firebenders to burn. That she was putting herself in danger.

But it was the nature of water to extinguish fire.

And it was the nature of Ilah to take risks in search of freedom.

He created a flame in the palm of his hand. She could see a smirk playing on his lips in the peripheries of her vision, but she couldn’t tear her eyes away from the fire.

It was bright bright yellow, verging on white, the tips flickering orange.

It looked almost soft.

Azulon moved his hand to the fire pit and within a moment there was a small but warm fire burning within it.

“I didn’t expect it to be so... cold here. Firebenders naturally burn hotter than most.”

“It’s nearly winter, Prince Azulon. The nights get longer, the days get shorter, it gets colder. Such is life in the north.” She slipped her gloves from her hands and placed them in her lap as she sat cross legged before the fire.

“I see. And here I thought Fire Nation winters were cold.” He laughed, his eyes flicking around the room, clearly looking for anyone else around. “And between us, you can just call me Azulon.”

“Then you may call me Ilah.” It wasn’t as if she cared for propriety when her father was not watching. “Between us only, mind you.”

“Aunt Ilah?” A small boy poked his head into the sitting room.

Azulon blinked at the child as Ilah reached out. “Come here, Amaroq. Why are you awake so early?”

“Why’re you awake? Who’s this?” He climbed into her lap and cuddled up to her, staring up at Azulon. “Why’s he look so weird?”

“This is Prince Azulon, Amaroq, he’s here to meet with Father to talk about a peace treaty. I’m awake because I haven’t yet slept, you know how I am after the full moon. You’re a growing boy still, you need your sleep.” She smoothed his hair down. He had clearly just woken up based on the messiness.

“Oh. Grandpa’s still asleep though.” 

“Just as you should be, from what I’m hearing.” Azulon’s voice took on a surprisingly warm and soft tone.

Her nephew pouted. “Why do all your grownups say the same thing?” Still, he climbed out of her lap and headed to go back to his room. “You guys will play with me later though, right?”

Azulon opened his mouth then closed it again, seemingly at a loss for words.

She had a feeling he wasn’t used to dealing with children.

“Perhaps, Amaroq, if you’re good for your mother.” She made a shooing motion toward him. 

“Now, Azulon, tell me about yourself.”

She took his breath away and he was drowning.

He first saw her standing on the deck of the ship, marvelling at the city of ice. He saw her sitting atop the wall, little more than a purple swathed figure.

Still, he looked away. Someone sitting on a wall didn’t matter. His purpose was to secure a peace treaty and remove a front of his father’s war. That was all.

Then he saw her again.

This time she was closer, close enough to see the pale blue of her eyes framed by smooth skin the colour of driftwood pieces he used to collect on Ember Island as a child.

“I am Prince Azulon.” 

Wait. Shit. No.

He was Crown Prince now.

His brother was dead. His sister stepped down.

He was Crown Prince now.

Maybe she hadn’t noticed and he could fix his mistake.

Oh no, she completely noticed.

He had bowed properly, probably lower than his father would’ve wished him to, yet she seemed dissatisfied. Why else would she step closer and grab his forearm?

He could see her breath lingering in the air in front of him. He could see his breath melding with her own.

And she was a Princess. So perhaps his bow was adequate and proper. Maybe she was her father’s heir and had been sent to gather him.

But why was her father still asleep? Did they not wake with Agni here? The entire city, as large as it was, was so quiet.

Then again, it allowed him to focus on her. 

She had a voice like wind chimes. 

Her smile was like the first light in Agni’s rise into the sky.

He couldn’t imagine having five siblings. It had already been hard enough kicking his way to the top with only two, one of which being his rather unambitious older sister.

So really only one competitor for the throne. A competition he had recently won.

A competition that Ilah wasn’t even allowed to participate in.

That made his inner fire roar.

Something about Ilah made him feel as though he had known her for his whole life. 

To think that here his sister would’ve never even been considered a competitor felt wrong. She had never truly wished to be Firelord, that was true, but she had the chance. It was her birthright. She was dragonblooded, just as he and his brother did.

And to think that here her husband could’ve ruled but not her? A man not even of the bloodline, just in virtue of being a man?

He almost offered to help her perform a coup and kill anyone who opposed her.

He stopped himself at the last minute. After all, he doubted she would appreciate it very much.

He shivered slightly. He was a firebender, he ran hot, but it was far too cold in this place.

She seemed to realize it though, directing him to the fire pit in the room they had just entered.

Did she want him to firebend? His father had dissuaded him from bending while here, after all, it could be seen as a sign of aggression.

But she smiled at him, and he had the permission of a princess.

Crown Prince Azulon summoned a flame and it was the brightest it had ever been. It was nearly white and her amazement reflected itself on her face.

It burned so hot he could feel it on his cheeks. 

But he would never hurt her. He had just met her and he already knew it.

Ilah began to reach out to the flame and Azulon moved his hand, placing the flame in the pit.

Did she not realize that it would burn her?

He was a master firebender, yes, but he was still only fifteen years old. He didn’t have the extreme control necessary to create fire that wouldn’t burn another,

He had never had a reason to focus on it before.

Now he had a reason.

The child startled him.

He had little experience with children after all. He was the youngest of his siblings, and neither of them had had any children. Nor did he have any cousins.

He had never thought on how odd it was that his brother had never had any children, despite approaching forty-five years of age at his death.

His mother was so much younger than his father as well.

Perhaps he would see if his siblings knew what had happened.

He was close to the Firelord, of course, his father taught him firebending and the art of politics personally.

Sozin had always known he was the most ambitious, most skilled of his children.

Yet, despite their closeness, Azulon never talked about before the war started with his father. It just wasn’t done.

Despite his inexperience with children, there was something nice about this one. He was... innocent. He seemed unaware and unconcerned about the matters of the war and politics.

Then the child was gone, headed back to sleep. And Ilah wanted him to talk again, all her attention was back on him.

Her eyes caught him and shoved him back under the waves. His words caught in his throat, clogging it up.

“Well, I...” he licked his lips, looking away from her. His siblings.

What could he even say about them?

“My older brother’s name was Kirin, he was the heir to the throne until he died recently.” He smiled at her, cursing himself and his nerves. “He died while practicing lightning bending. The fool held it in his body for too long.”

At least, that was the official statement. Anyone with a brain knew otherwise.

Anyone with a brain would keep their mouth shut about it.

“My sister, Anzu, was never particularly interested in the throne. She’s a scholar, specifically of spirits and theatre.” He smiled to himself. His sister was always his ally, no matter how her face remained impassive in his arguments with their brother. 

“Father thought she was a nonbender until she was twelve. She didn’t take to it like Kirin and I.”

“I’m sensing a but.” When did Ilah get so close to him? Her thigh pressed against his own, warming it more than the fire ever could.

“She’s the first person in a hundreds of years to be able to create lightning, and she uses it with deadly accuracy. She may not have the anger to firebend, but she has exactly the right frame of mind to lightningbend.”

“And can you?”

He felt every muscle in his body stiffen. 

Yes.

It was the truth. But it could incriminate him.

No.

A lie. A safe one. But he would not be seen as weak, especially not by her. And he didn’t want to lie to her.

That was a particularly surprising thought.

“Yes. I’m nowhere near as quick with it as Anzu, but I can lightningbend.”

Kirin had never been able to manage it. That was what had made his death believable.

“You’re incredibly skilled then.”

And how her words warmed his inner flame and made the fire in the pit spike ever so subtly.

He could feel as Agni rose higher in the sky, casting his light upon the two of them from a high window.

He could hear as people began to awake and begin their day, far later than the people in his own land.

He also heard as people in the palace began to make more noise. And he felt as Ilah moved away from him.

He felt so cold.

The fire raged but she had been his warmth.

“Prince Azulon.” A tall man walked into the room, holding the small child from earlier.

Ilah’s nephew.

Amaroq?

“You’re here quite early.”

He scrambled up and bowed, lower than he had to Ilah when he met her. After all, this was most certainly his superior.

“Chief Taktuq. I’m truly honoured to meet you. I apologize for my early arrival, I scheduled the ship to arrive at sunrise as that is when the day begins in the Fire Nation.”

The Chief rubbed his beard and nodded, a haze of tiredness in his eyes.

“The day begins much later here, although I could not have expected you to know that. Come, come. You shall have breakfast with my family. After the women have left for the day, then we shall discuss political matters.”

Azulon’s face remained impassive, but he watched Ilah’s face from the corner of his eye.

How did she not fill with rage?

How did she not snap at her father, at her entire society?

"Thank you for your kindness, inviting me to share a meal with your family in your home. I would love to.”

Chief Taktuq lead the way as Ilah lingered behind with him. “It’s very common to share food here, it’s the largest sense of community we have.”

He had figured that out already, it was somewhat obvious after all, yet he still smiled at her.

She was sharing her home with him. One day, he’d figure out a way to share his with her.

They entered a large hall. In the centre stood a large pot hanging over a fire pit that already had been burning for at least some time. 

The head of the table remained empty, it seemed. Likely for the Chief to sit. The spots to the left and right were already occupied by two similar looking boys that eyed him with suspicion.

Their eyes had none of the light that Ilah’s did.

On the opposite end of the table sat a woman that looked remarkably like Ilah, her eyes perhaps a shade darker and her skin a shade lighter. Her hair was brown too, Ilah’s was even darker than his own. Next to her sat her carbon copy, a baby nursing from her.

“Mama!” Amaroq ran towards her, a bright smile on his face.

Ilah took her place to the right of two identical girls that shared Ilah’s inky hair. They giggled as soon as they had seen him, blue necklaces hanging from their necks.

Azulon had a choice to make.

And a choice he made as he slipped into the seat next to Ilah. Perhaps he should’ve chosen a spot closer to the Chief—the man narrowed his eyes at his action, as did Ilah’s mother—but Ilah was the only one he had spoken more than a few, stilted words to.

A cup of tea was placed in front of him, as was a bowl of whatever was in the pot.

Was that a tentacle?

Ilah smiled at him in a way that made him almost fear for his life as she sipped the tea and began to eat as if there was nothing weird about having a tentacle in her soup.

Then again, for her there likely was nothing weird.

He hesitantly took a bite of the soup.

It wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t what he was used to. Mainly, it was just salty.

At least tea seemed to be a constant between their two cultures. The soup warmed him to his core and he was sure the tea was meant to do the same.

... This was not tea.

Not proper tea at least.

He swallowed and placed it down, attempting to hide his grimace.

Ilah’s smile only grew.

It was bitter and horrible but it made her smile that he had drank it.

So perhaps it wasn’t so bad.

(No. It was so bad.)

He returned to his soup, finishing it quickly. It grew on him after a few bites and he found himself quite enjoying it.

He furrowed his eyebrows as Ilah placed a few cubes of frozen, raw meat in front of him.

“It’s maktaaq, just try it. It’s quite good.” She nudged him, smiling.

It was one of the best things he’d ever tasted. Oily and slightly nutty tasting.

He reached for another piece.

“I’m not surprised you like maktaaq.” The Chief also had a smile on his face. “I know you also eat whale in the Fire Nation, yes?”

“We do.” He licked his lips, eyeing the tea and considering whether or not to risk another sip. “Although we tend to put many spices on and fry it, so it tastes quite different. Still good, but different.”

The rest of the meal continued uneventfully. Azulon finished his soup and potion of maktaaq, though he didn’t manage to drink the last of his tea.

Ilah’s mother stood, brushing down her dress. “Girls, come along. We’ll do some embroidery.” It was clearly to get them out of the room and all the girls rose to follow, although Ilah lagged behind ever so slightly.

Their eyes met one last time before she left the room, leaving Azulon alone with Chief Taktuq and his two sons.

“Now we can talk. It’s not a woman’s business to worry about things like this war.” Servants came in to take away the food, likely to feed others, but they all ignored them.

Servants were supposed to be invisible after all.

“I will admit, it was quite a surprise when your father sent a letter proposing a ceasefire and began the process of peace.” The Chief looked down at him and he suddenly felt small.

How would he do this?

Why had his father decided that his first duty as Crown Prince should be brokering a peace treaty in a frozen tundra?

Why had he tasked him with something so important?

(He’s testing you, his mind supplied.

He wants to see if you’ll fail. If you’ll disgrace him.)

“Our two nations have very similar qualities, and I pointed this out to my father. This war is to share the Fire Nation’s civilization and technology with those that are not as advanced as us, with those that suffer under uncaring governments.”

At least, that was what was said. And it was true, in a way. The places they attacked, with the exception of the Northern Water Tribe, were poor. They suffered from local leaders who did not care and siphoned wealth, and from the Earth King completely ignoring them and staying in Ba Sing Se.

“And we have done well. Yu Dao has already been transformed from a poor village into one of the most successful towns in the Fire Nation.”

The Chief’s eyebrow raised and he had to calm his quickly beating heart. 

“But your tribe is nothing like the Earth Kingdom. It is clear that you care for your people, and they are prospering. In my father’s wish to provide for the people of our world, he had not considered that your civilization rivals our own.”

Good, good. Get the annoyance off of his face. Make him feel proud of his nation.

(Don’t bring up their uncivilized parts, like chaining their women, his mind sneered.)

“In fact, there are many similarities between my nation and your own, even if fire and water are opposite elements. Unlike the Earth Kingdom, our people have great respect and reverence for our respective spirits. I have been told that your people worship Tui and La greatly, adjusting your sleeping habits around them.”

One of the boys, the younger it seemed, scoffed at him. “Not like you respect them.”

Azulon held down a sneer. 

Don’t get angry. 

Don’t get defensive. 

It’s just like talking to Kirin.

“Noa, it is not your place to speak.”

“I understand your thoughts, Prince Noa.” Understand didn’t mean he respected them. But he had to hold his rage and fire. “But you misunderstand the Fire Nation. We respect Tui and La greatly. The Fire Nation is an archipelago, and thus we are greatly influenced by them. While Agni is our patron and everyone worships him, many people also worship Tui and La.”

More La than Tui. Coastal cities of the Fire Nation were subject to the whims of the sea in every facet. Their food came from the sea, their homes and livelihoods reliant upon it. Everyone worshipped Agni, but more than a third of his people also worshipped La. And even yet, some worshipped Tui.

After all, she was the wife of their patron spirit. Why wouldn’t they?

Azulon had never considered doing more than worshipping Agni before, he was a talented firebender and thus was closer to Agni than most, yet he hadn’t had reason to consider other spirits.

“Fire Lords have been removed from power for disrespecting the spirits, not just Agni, and earning their ire.”

He stared at the boy, Noa, he seemed to be around his age. But he could see fear in his eyes.

Good.

“It seems that the Fire Nation has far more reverence for the spirits than we had believed.” The Chief looked satisfied as he turned to his son. “Noa...”

“I apologize, Prince Azulon.” The words were said through gritted teeth.

It was a satisfaction like nothing else.

“I accept, of course. You couldn’t have known.”

“Back to the original discussion at hand. You say you were the one to convince Firelord Sozin that peace should be sought?”

“I was.” He tried to avoid fidgeting with his sleeves. It wouldn’t do to seem nervous, even if he was. It was just like acting out a play with Anzu when they were children.

He could do this.

“And simply because you believed that our people were almost as civilized as your own?”

He wasn’t a fool, and he wouldn’t be trapped. 

“I know for a fact that your people are just as civilized as my people. To continue a war here would be against everything the war against the Earth Kingdom is trying to do. We’re trying to improve the lives of Earth Kingdom citizens by sharing our technology, wealth, and values. All a war here would do is take soldiers away from the front in the Earth Kingdom and worsen the lives of your civilians.”

“Father—“

“Later, Noa. I will have to think on your words, Prince Azulon. I have some duties to attend to, however we shall meet again as Tui rises into the sky. You are an honoured guest here, I will instruct the servants to prepare you and your staff lodgings within the palace. You are free to go anywhere our citizens are allowed to go, so long as you remain civilized.” Chief Taktuq stood and Azulon followed, ready for the grasp on his forearm.

The Chief looked impressed.

He left with his elder son, however Noa lingered behind.

“I don’t like you.” He sneered, stepping uncomfortably close to him. “I see how you look at my sister. Touch her and I’ll freeze your blood.”

How dare he?

But Noa was gone before he could say anything in return.

Crown Prince Azulon shuddered, suddenly feeling cold.

According to custom, it was not Princess Ilah’s place to sit in the meeting room as her father discussed peace.

It was not her place to deal with anything to do with the war.

But she wanted to stay. She deserved to stay.

“Come along, Ilah. You’re thirteen, you’ll soon be of marrying age. There’s no reason for you to be acting like a child, you know your place.” 

Ilah bowed her head in compliance, hatred swirling in her stomach.

“Of course, mother.”

Agni hung high in the sky as the women headed to a building outside the palace where weaving and embroidery was being done.

“Mother?” Visola and Kirima spoke at once. The twins’ habit of speaking in unison was deeply unsettling and they took advantage of it whenever possible. “We shall be heading to the healing huts for our lesson now. Sura requests that Ilah also comes with us. She believes she can still teach her to heal.”

She bristled.

Her inability to heal had always been a soft spot to her. She was talented at waterbending, she knew it, she could lift great amounts of water, she could both freeze water and heat it to boiling temperatures with ease.

But she couldn’t heal.

She knew she was at the very least a better waterbender than the majority of male waterbenders in the tribe.

But she still couldn’t heal. And she wasn’t allowed to learn to waterbend like them.

“Go then, Ilah.” Her mother waved her hand in her direction, continuing toward the embroidery building as her sisters flanked her and began to walk her toward the healing hut.

“Why does Sura even want me back, I can’t heal.”

“Oh she doesn’t.” Visola smirked on one side of her.

“In fact, she’ll probably be quite mad that we’re bringing you,” Kirima chimed in.

“Then why—“

“You didn’t want to be stuck with mother.” Visola shrugged. “Is that not enough reason? We’re still your sisters and we love you, even if you like to act so grown up.”

“You’re only fifteen,” she hissed in response, crossing her arms. 

“Sixteen in a month, then we’ll each marry our betrotheds. You’re not even betrothed yet, snowflake. Besides, we’re just trying to help.”

“She might be betrothed soon though, Vis, did you see how that Fire Nation Prince looked at her?”

“Like Agni seeing Tui for the first time.”

“Ima! Vis!” Her face burned and she looked away from her sister, only to come face to face with the other.

“And I think she definitely feels the same way, if the heat I feel off her cheek says anything.” Ilah smacked Visola’s hand away from her face, pulling up the hood of her parka to allow the fur to hide her face.

They walked into the healing hut and her sisters forced her to sit down between them.

“Princess Ilah. I thought I heard you declare that you would never be a healer as you caved in the ceiling last solstice?” Head Healer Sura’s voice was nothing but smug, a smirk on her lips.

“I decided to try again, that’s all.” She raised her chin, looking the healer in the eye. “Tui herself gives me the energy to bend, it would be disgraceful to not use that energy.”

She would much rather use it in combative waterbending, but her father would ever allow it.

Ilah held Sura’s gaze until the older woman turned away.

“I’m glad you’ve come to your senses then.” She gestured to an injured man. He must’ve been a fisherman, he had somehow managed to get three fishhooks stuck in his hand.

Ilah swallowed and stepped forward, internally apologizing to the fisherman and asking Tui for strength. She knew she would be making a fool of herself.

And so did Healer Sura.

Snowflakes were gently floating down from the sky as Azulon walked through the Northern Water Tribe marketplace. Their craftswork was absolutely beautiful, small figurines representing various animals were carved from whalebone. 

He ran his thumb over the carved details of a koi fish, turning it over in his hand. The craftsman named a price and Azulon handed it over without another thought.

It was a good thing he had remembered to grab Water Tribe money before he left the Fire Nation. He had no doubt his own money would be useless here.

“We also sell pre-cut stone, ready for betrothal necklaces,” the craftsman called out as he walked away, placing the koi fish into the pocket of the parka he’d been given.

Betrothal necklaces? What did that have to do with anything?

He was walking past one of many entirely snow buildings as a smaller body slammed into him and he found himself falling into the river.

Except he didn’t land in the water.

Instead, he found himself hanging upside down, his feet encased in ice on the path and his top knot grazing the surface of the river.

“Azulon?” A mittened hand grabbed his own and dragged him up with a surprising strength.

He righted himself to see the same blue eyes as he had entering the Northern Water Tribe for the first time.

“Ilah! Are you okay?”

“You almost fell into the river and you’re asking if I’m okay?” Ilah rolled her eyes as she unfroze his feet and her deadpan tone almost made him feel ashamed. 

“Well... yes? You came running out of that building, and normally you’re so calm, I was just thinking something must be wrong if—“

He cut himself off, noticing a rather confusing expression on her face for a moment before it turned into a soft smile.

“You’re right, something is wrong, but I’m okay. Healer Sura is just a massive bitch.”

His eyes widened and he just stared at her for a moment before realizing she was actually walking away from him. He had to jog slightly to keep up.

A light smirk played on Ilah’s features as she glanced back at him. “I’m absolutely horrible at healing, you know.”

“You’re a waterbender?” 

He almost hit himself. Obviously she was, who else would’ve encased his feet in ice to prevent him from falling into the river?

“In the loosest definition of the term, yes.”

Loosest definition?

If a weak waterbender could encase his feet that quickly and strong enough to hold his entire body weight, what could a master waterbender do?

“Women are only permitted to learn the healing arts. Men may learn combative waterbending.”

Those statements alone told him all he needed to know. He had played in court long enough, weaving words like an expert.

Women could only heal. Ilah couldn’t heal. Ilah was thus a terrible waterbender.

Only men could learn combative waterbending. 

Ilah was a terrible healer,

Ilah was not a terrible waterbender.

“I see. I’m sure you would’ve been a wonderful firebender.”

In the Fire Nation, where women could fight as well as men. 

Speak whenever men could.

Bend as they wished.

“Perhaps. But I would hate to lose my connection to Tui. The power when the full moon is at its peak in the sky is like nothing else.” She let out a slow but happy sigh. “Would you ever give up your connection to Agni?”

“Never.”

As it turned out, Ilah hadn’t slept in over 24 hours. Which meant that she went to her own room to sleep as soon as they returned to the palace.

And Azulon was alone until the evening meal.

He spent his time meditating under the sun on the wall that surrounded the city, looking out at the ocean.

It was so different from the Fire Nation, it was cold and windy, there was nowhere near the same number of animals running around, the people looked and acted so different.

But the ocean was the same.

La here was the same La that surrounded his homeland, and it was comforting. If he reached down and touched the water, would the ripples one day reach his home, infinitely smaller?

Despite being surrounded by ocean, the air was dry in a way that he would’ve never expected.

(Would Ilah be surprised at the humidity of the Fire Nation?)

The thought made him pause. Ilah would never have a reason to visit the Fire Nation (visit him, his mind supplied in a coy tone). It was more likely than not that she would never even be permitted to visit his home, to see him after he left hers.

The air was dry in the Water Tribes, the air was wet in the Fire Nation. That was simply the nature of all things. The Water Tribes needed Agni to survive, just as the Fire Nation required La.

Agni felt the same here as he did at home. It shouldn’t have surprised him, yet it still did. 

His eyes opened and he looked out over La’s great expanse, rising slowly to his feet. Something tugged at his soul, he could not manage to find calm through meditation as he usually did.

He so wished to firebend, but he knew it would be unwise. It was risk enough to firebend before Ilah and Ilah only.

(But the amazement in her eyes. It made him feel like he could—)

He almost had.

Before her, his flame had nearly turned white. He had been chasing white flame for so long, the mark of a particularly strong firebender with an equally strong inner flame.

She made him burn hotter, burn brighter.

He held his hand out, breathing in.

Fire needed air.

Yet.

Yet.

He shoved his hands back into the pocket.

He couldn’t firebend. Not now. Not so in the open.

Instead of fire forming in his palm, a shaky breath left his lips. Why was he so focussed on her?

Why did she affect him so much?

They had just met.

Crown Prince Azulon looked up to Agni and began the walk to his ship, floating in the port. He would be able to firebend there, out of the sight of any Water Tribe citizens.

He slipped onto the ship easily. The majority of the sailors chose to remain on it, though some were out and about at the markets, looking for souvenirs to bring home to their families and significant others.

His room in the ship felt impersonal. There were silk sheets (and woollen ones in the chest at the foot of the bed), just as in his room, and banners lined the walls. Yet, it did not feel his in the way his room in the palace did. It lacked his alter to Agni, the mess of scrolls on his desk, the burn on the wall from when he got frustrated by Kirin’s snide words.

He sat on the floor, leaning back against the solid structure of his bed. He lacked the ability to feel Agni’s light in here but his inner flame burned bright enough to ignore it.

A breath in.

He thought of lighting that nearly white flame for Ilah in the morning, the closest he had ever come. His mind drifted to frozen feet holding him away from the icy river. To the passion hidden under her words as she talked about her role.

In his palm, a blazing white flame flickered, stronger than anything he had ever made.

A laugh bubbled in his chest as he watched it.

Perhaps it sounded a little bit maniacal though.

“Prince Azulon?” A knock startled him and the fire dissipated. “Are you alright in there?”

His breath was shaky once again, but it was a good shaky. His cheeks hurt from the intensity of his grin.

“I’m fine, Kuzon, thank you for the concern.” He tried to keep his voice calm and regal, but there was a sort of giddy happiness that slipped in anyway.

He stood and placed the koi statuette on the shelf above his head, smile never fading.

White fire and a Water Tribe statue had somehow made it feel more of his own.

“Remember your place, Ilah.”

If Noa didn’t remember his own place and shut up, Ilah would show him that his place was at the bottom of La’s seas.

“I am in my room, Noa. I cannot possibly be more in my place.” She opened one eye and sat up, the furs on her shifting in turn. “In fact, you are the one not in your place.”

“I did not mean physically.” He had the gall to take another step directly into her room. With ink coloured hair, their father’s skin, and their grandmother’s light blue eyes, Noa and Ilah looked the most similar of any of their siblings.

He was also the closest to her in age. And, despite how much they argued, he was her favourite.

It was for that reason and that reason alone that he did not get a face full of freezing water.

He could do to be less protective though. She was no longer the timid child who cried over other children mocking her inability to heal.

“What do you want?” Keeping a calm tone was hard, but it was easier than getting into a full blown argument. He was nearly as stubborn as she was.

“I want my baby sister to stay away from that fire prince.”

That, however, did earn him a face full of freezing water. He may be a waterbender, but he was among the few that recognized that she was better than most in the tribe. He had been the one to teach her the basics from his lessons and then watch her outstrip him.

He was one of the few people that saw her as an equal. At least, for the most part.

“And I want you out of my room. But neither of those things are going to happen, will they?”

“Why do you insist on always being so stubborn?” He bent the water off of himself and sent it back to the wall it came from.

Then he even had the audacity to sit on her bed.

The asshole.

Ilah set her eyes in a stare, her arms crossing over her chest.

One breath.

Two breaths.

“Look.” He broke the silence and their locked gaze. “I know you, Ilah. You’re smart. Tell me why you’ve attached yourself to him so suddenly.”

Three breaths.

“Respect, Noa.” She ran her fingers through her hair before leaning to her bedside table to grab the comb atop it. “He respects me in a way none of the men here do. But it’s not just that, it’s...” Her fingers curled as she thought, water following their movements. “You know the feeling of a full moon?”

“Of course I do.” He rolled his eyes and crooked his fingers, making the ball of water fly toward him before Ilah wrenched it back.

“Then you know how it makes the soul restless, how it makes it sing. That’s how it feels with him, he makes me feel powerful just being around him.” She let her breath puff out of her lips as she brought the water up to near boiling and steaming temperatures.

No one else could do it. Sure, the warriors froze water all the time, but no others in the tribe could make it boil like she could. They all had to rely on pots and fire pits.

“There’s something about him that makes me want to be near. And I know he can feel it too. He must.”

It was then that she noticed Noa’s silence—he was never quiet this long, he had a tendency to chatter and interrupt like nobody’s business—and his narrowed eyes.

Her brother wasn’t a fool. He wasn’t the smartest person in the world, no, but he had an uncanny ability to Know things.

The look on his face disappeared and he hopped up with an energy he hadn’t had before. “Are you sure you aren’t just feeling the full moon still? You have a connection to Tui the rest of us don’t after all.”

His tone was light. Joking. 

He Knew something and he wasn’t about to tell her.

“Just get out.”

She would find out what he Knew sooner or later.

“And don’t you dare threaten Azulon.”

Noa smirked at her, lingering in her door once again. “First name basis already? Should I get you some of that herb Tulimaq recommends?”

Her face burned as she sent a volley of ice spikes after him, but he had already been prepared to run.

She would kill him one day.

Not today though.

She slumped back into bed, running the comb through her hair as she stared up at the ceiling. 

Why was she so attached to Azulon? Noa was right, they had just met.

(He is the warmth of the sun and the power of Tui high in the sky, her mind whispered.

He is your complementary, her heart whispered, the Agni to your Tui, fire to your water, light to your darkness. You need him as he needs you.

He is yours, something else whispered. He is a husband’s gift to his wife.)

Azulon walked to the palace alone, hands in his pockets. The sun had set sooner than he would’ve expected it to. Thankfully Kuzon had known that he was required at the evening meal in the palace (how had he known? He didn’t tell him) and had roused him from his meditation in time for him to go.

Being late would’ve been incredibly disrespectful and could’ve ruined the peace he was seeking.

The streets were lively in the evening in a way they hadn’t been in the morning. He saw a class of waterbending students training by a river, he heard the laughter of a group of women from inside a building made of ice. He saw a young couple sharing a kiss atop a bridge. 

The city felt alive.

He reached the dining room and found the Chief’s family (bar the Chief himself) sitting around the table. Ilah seemed to be arguing with the twins in a quiet but clearly clipped tone. Her eldest sister seemed to be showing her son how to hold his younger sibling while her mother watched with a small smile.

Prince Noa’s eyes bored into his when he turned to look at the Chief’s two sons.

There was something unsettling about his eyes, the same shade as Ilah’s yet lacking their light.

“Prince Azulon. How about you sit with us tonight?” Noa’s voice was far more amicable than it had been in the meeting with his father.

It was also, somehow, incredibly cool in tone.

“I do not believe you have been formally introduced to my brother, Prince Tulimaq? He is our father’s heir.”

Despite the urge to sit next to Ilah and her warmth (she was somehow so much warmer than everyone else here), he took the offered place beside Noa.

“I have not. It is a pleasure.” Azulon smiled, although it was somewhat stiff as he took Tulimaq’s offered arm.

“I apologize for Noa’s... forwardness.” Tulimaq’s tone was warm, but in the wrong way. It itched like the rare occasion the sun would be hot enough to burn even Agni’s chosen. “He has not yet learned to value tradition as the rest of us do and as such he has a tendency to speak out of turn.”

He heard Noa scoff slightly as his eyebrows furrowed. This was court-speak once again. Complicated and hiding as many different messages as it could. Warning both Noa and Azulon not to rock the boat.

Noa may not have been the friendliest (and he had attempted to forbid him from talking with Ilah, Ilah who was her own person and could very much speak her own mind), but Tulimaq reminded him of Kirin. Of his endless lectures about what was proper, about the glory of the Fire Nation and the blood that flowed through their veins, about tradition and his role as the Fire Lord’s youngest child.

But Kirin was dead now, Azulon was not. Kirin had believed the throne was fated to him by his blood and by Agni’s will. Azulon knew that Agni valued the passion and drive that fanned their flames more than he valued egotism.

Water was the element of change, but that did not mean that fire was stagnant. Fire burned and grew and progressed at a faster rate than any of the other elements. Yet both Kirin and Tulimaq denied the nature of their elements, choosing instead to remain rigid and unchanging.

Azulon glanced over and met Noa’s eyes once again.

He did not trust him, but in a way he understood him, at least partially.

There was still no way he would be staying away from Ilah.

Thankfully he was saved from the formality of response by the Chief walking in. Interestingly, they did not rise on his arrival, however all conversation did cease.

Taktuq seated himself and, almost at once, everyone began to take food and begin eating. No one had individual meals served to them.

The first thing he took was the maktaaq. It had been delicious in the morning and it was just as good in the evening.

He slyly avoided being served more of the “tea”.

From the corner of his eye, he saw light and amusement shining in Ilah’s eyes. She truly seemed to reflect the light of the moon within her.

There was some form of fried bread that was quite similar to food in the Fire Nation. Somehow he was already nostalgic for home.

He wasn’t meant for somewhere as cold as this.

Despite his clear lack of belonging, the dinner progressed without argument and he could almost ignore the cold of Noa’s gaze on the side of his face as he relished in the warmth of Ilah’s.

The servants left the maktaaq even as they cleared away the rest of the meal. It was clearly like fire flakes, something to eat continuously throughout meetings to maintain the energy for politics.

With the food being cleared away, it almost seemed as if the same happened to the women. One moment he was sharing a glance with Ilah as he tried the tea again (a horrible choice), the next her spot was empty and he was alone with the near unreadable Chief, the traditionalist eldest son, and the ice cold suspicion of the youngest son.

He could do this.

He was not yet an adult, but he could do this.

(Oh how he wished for Anzu’s steady presence. The steadiness ever present in her that allowed her to be the first to bend lightning in hundreds of years. The unreadable face but constant support.

He even wished for Kirin. He had hated him but he had also loved him in an equal amount. His brother’s fury blazed as hot as his own and he was competition so he was taken out but he knew Kirin would stand with him against anyone outside the family.

He would’ve wished for his father’s presence, but he knew being his favourite meant nothing in this situation.

This was a test.

He would not fail it.

He was dragonblooded. Agni’s light shone through him. He would show his worth.)

The talks left him shaking as he returned home. It was only through strength of will that he kept sparks contained and hidden instead of leaping from his fingertips. 

Unlike the last meeting where the Chief had talked primarily with Prince Noa interjecting and making a fool of himself, this meeting had been dominated by Prince Tulimaq.

Crown Prince Azulon talked to no one as he raced through the halls of his ship, finally reaching his room and locking himself within it.

Shaking hands set up half a dozen candles and lit them with errant sparks. Normally it took only a few breaths to steady himself, yet even after fifty he didn’t feel solid.

Tulimaq had grilled him on his personal character, on his father, on his people, on his siblings. He has latched onto Kirin’s death almost immediately.

“It must hurt to have lost such a close family member. And at such a young age too.” His words were kind but they stung and his eyes betrayed his true intentions.

If he acted unaffected it conveyed a lack of care for his family. It went without saying that family was important in the Northern Water Tribe. Even when they argued, it seemed the siblings were still close. 

It could also place suspicion upon him.

(Why would the Northern Water Tribe care? Why would they even suspect? They could not imagine a family traitor such as you, his heart spoke and his mind ignored.)

Yet if he displayed emotion and sadness he would reaffirm the idea of him as a child. As unfit for his role. 

He would appear weak, and he was anything but.

That was when the minute shaking had started. His hands were carefully folded in his lap thereafter, not even daring to take another piece of maktaaq.

A steady, sad looking smile had curled on his lips and his head bowed a few degrees. “It was hard, yet I find solace in that my brother has been returned to Agni where he belongs. One day I and the rest of our family shall join them, though I hope Agni permits that day shall be far from now.”

It struck the balance necessary and even Tulimaq had accepted it gracefully. Yet he still shook even now.

What right did he have to invoke Agni?

He had lit the first flame at his body. Before Ilah it had been the closest he had gotten to white fire. He had been the one to begin his return to Agni. Both in cremation and his death.

He loved Kirin as much as he hated him.

The tiny flames of the candles flared and he struggled to control both them and his inner fire.

Firebending came from the breath.

Why couldn’t he breathe?

His chest rose and fell but he was breathless.

Why was he crying?

It took everything in him to get the control to extinguish the flames in his room as his forehead pressed to the floor before he tipped to the side.

The shaking was uncontrollable and unhidable now.

He had always been an annoyance to Kirin. Little Azu followed Anzu like she was one of the great spirits, but Anzu was often pulled away to lessons. And Kirin had been easy to find.

He remembered days when Kirin had held him awkwardly, dark circles under his eyes from the effort of being a general. Yet he had still been willing to comfort a toddler after his first assassination attempt.

(He wondered how many assassination attempts Kirin had survived. He was a prime target as Crown Prince.

What made him better than all those assassins?

Kirin trusted you, you betrayed that trust, his heart supplied like a thousand daggers.

He never trusted you, not truly. He threw as many flaming fists at you as you did at him, his mind defended but it didn’t block all the daggers.

It never could.)

It didn’t matter anyway.

Kirin was dead, Azulon was alive.

So why couldn’t he breathe? Why did he feel wet hot tears on his cheeks and cold metal under his skin?

Kirin was competition for the throne. Kirin had stood over him when he was seven with a fistful of fire and an unreadable expression.

(What are you doing here, brother?

Just checking on you. I heard a noise, I feared an assassin.)

He had known lies even then, yet he had allowed his brother to pick him up and tuck him against his chest.

He slept in his big brother’s bed that night like a baby. 

(It had been the best sleep he could remember.)

Kirin lied and left burns on his wrists and arms but he also gave warm and steady hugs.

(Hadn’t he left just as many burn on his brother’s skin in retaliation? Kirin has been forty-four when he died, he could’ve avoided him with ease. Killed him with ease.)

Maybe Azulon was the one truly unworthy of carrying Agni’s blood within him. Perhaps that day in the courtyard had been the true test.

A test that he had failed.

These clothes were too warm. Too tight. He was suffocating, that’s why he couldn’t breathe. Thats why his fire was out of control.

(You’re contradicting yourself, his mind supplied entirely unhelpfully, fire cannot burn without air.)

“Azulon?”

Her voice cut through the heat like sinking into the ocean when on vacation at Ember Island with Kirin and Anzu and her boyfriend. Father had never had the time to join them but they had been happy.

He still couldn’t breathe but he had the strength to look up at her.

His room was an out of focus haze but she was sharp and clear. Hair as dark as night hung down as her hands reached out to hold his face, ignoring the way he flinched as she wiped away his tears.

(How was she here? No one was allowed on this ship without his permission. Was she here to kill him? Stand up, fight—

Shut up, mind.)

Azulon, just Azulon, found himself being guided into a sitting position, resting against his bed as she rubbed his chest.

Did she think it would help his breathing?

Was it helping his breathing?

Looking into her eyes was like looking at the moon on a clear night.

“Azulon?” 

He was Azulon. Just Azulon. Not Prince Azulon, certainly not Crown Prince Azulon.

Just Azulon.

She was directing him how to breathe. He knew how to breathe, in, out.

Then again, he hadn’t been breathing until she showed him how, had he?

He couldn’t close his eyes. If he lost sight of her then he would lose himself again.

“Ilah?”

A smile slipped onto her lips and he wished he could see that every day.

“I was worried you wouldn’t remember who I am. You were calling for your brother when I came in.”

He was?

He hoped none of the crew had heard him.

“Do you miss him?”

Did he?

Did he miss him?

He shrugged his shoulders, unable to force words from his lips as he hugged his knees.

“That’s okay.” She rested a hand on his shoulder and, after a pause, deemed him stable enough to guide to lean into her side.

Was it?

“Grief is complicated, Azulon. I haven’t lost anyone myself, but I’ve seen plenty of my people who’ve lost parents, siblings, children. Sometimes they lose them to the cold, to errant spirits the sages haven’t calmed, or battle.” 

Whether that battle was with his own people or the more typical pirates, he didn’t ask. She didn’t tell.

He turned his head and tucked his face into her shoulder, squeezing his eyes closed. He didn’t want to talk about this.

He didn’t even know if he could.

She would look at him differently if she knew Kirin’s death was his fault.

If she knew he planned it.

If she knew he killed him.

He was a murderer, a family murderer.

Ilah loved her family, it was evident. She would hate him if she knew.

And yet, even his guilt could not stop himself from taking her comfort, from wrapping his arms around her midsection and fully cleaning into her embrace.

He felt gentle hands and fingers running through his hair. He had never taken his top knot out, but it had been getting progressively looser throughout the night. It must’ve come out during his failed meditation, sometime before Ilah had (somehow) come into his room.

His hair was important, it was a symbol of his status, of his honour, of him. Yet he didn’t mind this, it was almost... calming. Normally he only let Anzu or his personal servant touch his hair, the servant only for the purposes of putting it up.

(You trust her, his mind and heart said in equal amounts.

They rarely agreed.

It’s a good thing.

They agreed again.)

His breathing was normal again.

His vision was sharp as he peaked over her shoulder at the Fire Nation banner on the wall of his room. 

He had no clue how long he had been breaking down, nor did he know how long he had been in Ilah’s arms as she slowly brought him back up from whatever depth he had fallen into.

“Better?”

“Yes.” His voice sounded normal again and he could actually talk. “I— thank you. How are you here?”

His lips felt unnaturally dry and no amount of licking them helped.

A canteen full of water (likely taken off of his bedside table where he always kept it) was pressed into his hands. She guided him to drink.

“I snuck in through the porthole.” Ilah shrugged and smiled at him, taking the empty canteen from his hands. “I was planning to take you exploring so you could see the city through my eyes, but I came in and you were on the ground crying for your brother.”

Right.

“Thank you for the help.” He didn’t even have to force the curl of his lips as he rubbed his eyes. His inner flame was steady and bright once again. It was under his control. “Is that offer still standing?”

Ilah’s bewildered look made him smile even wider. “It is, yes. But...”

“Then let’s go.” He forced himself up, hands drifting to his hair.

He should put it into a top knot. He was Crown Prince, it would be disgraceful to not wear his hairpiece.

Instead, he grabbed a strip of leather and pulled his hair back into a phoenix tail. It was more casual and it didn’t allow for the hairpiece he normally wore.

Azulon paused when he heard the creek of the porthole. “The... door is right there?” He gestured toward it, his eyebrows furrowed.

Ilah responded with a smirk. “Live a little, Azulon.” A moment later she had slipped through it, but the splash he expected did not occur.

Oh. 

Right.

She was a waterbender. The water had caught her. And she would catch him.

He glanced toward the door one last time before slipping (far less gracefully, not that he’d admit it) out of the porthole.

He even managed to avoid screaming on his way down before the water caught him.

“Don’t you trust me?” Ilah teased, her eyes glowing with the light of the moon.

And he did.

(He shouldn’t. The peace treaty wasn’t yet signed or even drafted, he was technically still an enemy.

He shouldn’t trust her but)

He did. 

Azulon took her hand. “Lead on, my Princess.”

And so that was how his time in the Northern Water Tribe continued. After the morning and evening meals Crown Prince Azulon would discuss the slowly forming peace treaty with Chief Taktuq, Crown Prince Tulimaq, and Prince Noa. Slowly they created trade agreements, discussed how much money would be transferred from the Fire Nation to the tribe as recompense for their attacks, and even  proposed the idea of allowing Water Tribe scholars to study in the Fire Nation in exchange for the reverse also occurring.

Crown Prince Azulon sent correspondence to his father each week, although he had only received a letter back at the end of his first month in the Northern Water Tribe. Said letter had contained a seal to allow him to stamp the final peace treaty, along with his father’s blessing to basically do whatever he wanted.

He knew his father cared more about finding the Avatar than the peace treaty, but to have so much trust placed in him was bewildering.

During the days he would spend his time wandering trough markets, buying swaths of fabric and furs to bring back home, taking a class in the Agna Qel’a University about the history of the Water Tribes and their minor spirits.

Then at nights Ilah would sneak into his room on his ship. Sometimes they would walk throughout Agna Qel’a and the nature surrounding it, other times they would stay in his room and talk. He could feel them growing closer and he knew he would miss her when he left.

And he knew her family saw it too. Her twin sisters (Visola and Kirima, his mind supplied) giggled every time they saw him. Her mother (who insisted she just call her Yuka. He avoided referring to her in general) had given him a tailored parka and outfit of his own, dyed a soft, pale purple. Even Amaroq’s mother, Princess Imona, seemed to be subtly trying to tell him her daughter’s favourite foods and things.

He already knew those things weeks ago, he wasn’t a fool and it was worth suffering a particularly salty piece of jerky to see Ilah smile so brightly.

Even Tulimaq had awkwardly cornered him after an evening meeting, handing him a bag of crushed herbs. His face had been flushed as he told him to “make sure to give it an hour to kick in, I know how easy it is to rush” before practically running away.

He had thought it to be a sweet gesture, even though he didn’t know how to cook, but when he told Ilah about it she snatched the bag from him and went to go yell at her brother.

So perhaps they weren’t cooking herbs.

He still wasn’t quite sure what they were. Noa couldn’t stop laughing every time he brought it up in order to tell him. 

Which...

Rude.

Still, he should’ve expected this. Yet he didn’t.

It was their second last meeting before they would sign the official peace treaty. The nights were so long now at the end of his two month stay that he spent as much of the day as possible soaking up Agni’s light, choosing to conduct the meetings only after sunset.

The meeting wasn’t supposed to include anything new. It was just supposed to have them confirming the terms of the treaty and having a somewhat less formal than usual talk.

They often discussed culture in their meetings, it was one of the things that built camaraderie between them. It was for that reason that he thought nothing of the question at first.

“What is the marriage age in the Fire Nation, Prince Azulon?” The Chief poured him a glass of wine, apparently from the Fire Nation and older than he was.

“Sixteen.” He sipped it and relaxed, his inner flame flaring happily.

“The same as for us. Yet you also have betrothals before that, correct?”

He hummed in response, leaning back slightly. He didn’t notice Noa’s smirk. Perhaps then he would’ve been more suspicious.

“Yes. It’s quite common in the nobility and merchant class where marriage is often used to solidify alliances and to increase social standing. Of course, it used to be common in my family as well, though my grandparents decided to allow my father to decide his own spouse, as has my father with me and my siblings. According to my father he did not have the chance to marry for love despite that, yet he wishes for Anzu and I to get that chance.”

The Chief hummed, his fingers tapping against his glass. “So you would be adverse to being betrothed to Ilah to solidify this treaty then?”

The wine burned as he choked on it, Noa pounding on his back as he laughed merrily.

The dickhead knew this was coming and didn’t even bother to warn him.

“Are you alright, Prince Azulon?” Tulimaq and Noa normally looked similar, they had the same skin, jawline, and hairstyle, but normally Noa and Ilah looked far more similar.

Now the two brothers wore identical smirks and the same amusement shone in their eyes.

“I... am fine.” He placed the glass of wine down, clearing his throat. “I.”

How did this happen?

“Where did this come from?”

He always kept his composure in front of them, even when Tulimaq brought up Kirin. He had never stuttered like this.

Why wasn’t Ilah here if her father was essentially offering her as a bride?

“You two appear to be close, even if you are only friends. I know my daughter, but more than that, Noa knows his sister.”

Of course it was Noa.

He looked over at the smirking teen.

The Chief ignored Azulon’s glare at his son. “My daughter is not suited for the Agna Qel’a. I’m sure you know that. She is no healer, in fact she is a warrior, but she could never be that here.” While his tone had been light at his first suggestion of betrothal, it was now far more serious. “Ilah would never be satisfied in a marriage to a Water Tribe man. They would not afford her the type of respect she demands, nor would she give them the type of respect they expect.”

Azulon swallowed and hesitantly picked his wine back up. He knew it was true. The men of the Water Tribe respected women, but it wasn’t as equals. It wasn’t the type of respect Ilah wanted and he freely gave because he knew nothing else, why wouldn’t he? His sister was one of the most formidable people he knew. 

Ilah had, more than once, bemoaned to him about the idea of getting married and being silenced even more. She had explained that women were supposed to speak through their husbands, with their husbands respecting their opinions as their own. Yet, it was rarely what happened in practice and resulted in women being voiceless.

“Azulon.” Oh no. No title. This conversation was already far too familiar but now the Chief had that tone that his father occasionally got.

Like when he was trying to explain to him about sex and reproduction.

“I want my daughter to be happy. And if that means betrothing her to a friend who respects her, the fact that a betrothal would solidify this peace treaty sooner is just a bonus.”

He froze up.

Did he want this?

He did, of course he did. 

The back of his mind and his heart had told him from the moment they’d met.

(But does Ilah want this?

They didn’t even invite her and they were offering her to him.

The Chief said he loved his daughter yet—)

Noa’s voice was in his ear. “Ilah suggested it to me, I petitioned our father. Don’t worry about her, she won’t kill you if you say yes.”

Ilah wanted this?

Of course she wanted it. Ilah could play politics as well as he could despite (or perhaps because of) her gender’s social standing.

Ilah had asked him if he though she would like the Fire Nation.

(He hadn’t thought much of it but he had said yes, of course. He loved his nation, why wouldn’t she?)

Ilah had cuddled up to him and asked him to do her hair, even when he had explained the significance of hair in the Fire Nation.

(Really that should’ve been his first tip off. She had smiled so brightly when he said that only close friends, family, or lovers were generally trusted to do your hair.)

Ilah had even pointed out her sisters’ betrothal necklaces and explained them, all while holding his hand.

He didn’t know if he was in love with her, but he knew that even in this short time that she was his best friend (not that hard to be, frankly, seeing as his sister, who was twelve years his senior, was his previous best friend).

And if he could help her be happy and be heard, why wouldn’t he?

“I will have to discuss it with my family, and we could not marry until Ilah turns sixteen, however I don’t see it being a problem. And... I would not be adverse to it.”

It would solve his own dilemma too. As the Crown Prince he would be expected to eventually bear heirs. And having a wife would mean that he could stave off the swathes of people who wanted their child to marry him.

“Then we shall not write it officially in the treaty, however it shall be known throughout the tribe.” The Chief stood and offered his forearm for Azulon to clasp. “You will not be able to issue Ilah a betrothal necklace until the turn sixteen anyway, although I recommend doing as such as soon as you can.”

His grip was firm and he let the Chief pull away first, exchanging some customary farewells as he left, taking his elder son with him.

Noa’s arm came to wrap around his shoulders, despite the boy being both a year younger than him and a decent amount shorter.

“So, brother—“

“I am not your brother.”

“—did you like your surprise?” 

Despite his annoyance, Noa’s grin was startlingly similar to Ilah’s and he slumped slightly.

“I would’ve preferred a warning. Now let go, I have to write to my father and sister and explain that I now have a fiancée.”

“Hah!” Noa laughed even as Azulon strode quickly back toward his ship, following him. “You’re already thinking of her basically as your wife.”

“Go freeze some tea or something.”

Even still, he was smiling for the rest of the walk back to his ship.

Fire Lord Sozin, Dragon of Caldera,

The peace talks have been monumentally successful and the treaty shall be signed by myself and Chief Taktuq tomorrow with his son Crown Prince Tulimaq as witness. I have included a copy of the peace treaty (although obviously unsigned) penned by my own hand. It is an exact replica of the treaty that shall be signed tomorrow.

In addition to the stipulated terms, however, there is another significant development to note. Not necessarily as Fire Lord, but as my father. Given your consent, Chief Taktuq has proposed a betrothal between myself and his youngest daughter, Princess Ilah, as a representation of the peace treaty. A portrait of Princess Ilah, as well as a brief description of her character has been included. This act already has the consent of both myself and Princess Ilah, as we have grown to become at least friends in my time in Agna Qel’a. This betrothal would last until Princess Ilah turns sixteen, as the marriage age here is the same as at home, at which point she would join me in the Fire Nation as my wife.

I recognize that you wish for Anzu and I to marry for love given that you were unable to do as such. While I am unsure if I love Ilah, I hold great affection for her as a friend and I am certain that, should we be permitted to maintain correspondence, we will only grow closer. To put it quite plainly: I would very much like to marry her, father, and would like your consent on it.

She would make the ideal Fire Lady if given the chance. The role of women in the Northern Water Tribe leaves much to be desired (although I believe with time it shall change on its own), however it has led Ilah to be extremely adept in the politics of saying little while listening and passing on knowledge. I believe the people of our nation would love her. She is both kind and a warrior in her own right as an accomplished waterbender despite not being afforded the title of master.

I have sent this letter with my fastest hawk. Please allow her as much rest as she desires and return your response to my ship at your earliest convenience.

Long may Agni’s light shine upon you,

Your faithful son,

Crown Prince Azulon.

My dearest sister, Anzu, first lightningbending master in three centuries,

I’m sorry for not writing these past two months but I am certain that Kuzon has told you as much about what I’ve been doing as possible.

I apologize for keeping your fiancé away from you for so long, although he seems to relish in pestering me just as you did.

Speaking of future spouses, I may have one of my own.

(Yes, sister, I can feel the glare you’re giving me and can practically hear the threats from your tongue. I apologize profusely.)

I have no doubt that Kuzon has told you of the friendship between myself and Princess Ilah given that he made some comments when he found the two of us (innocently!) cuddling. 

Earlier today her father proposed the idea of a betrothal between the two of us in order to solidify the peace treaty I shall sigh tomorrow. Her brother, Noa, also informed me that this betrothal was Ilah’s idea in the first place.

And, surprisingly to even myself, I do want to marry her. I don’t know if I love her, but we have become quite close. I apologize but she may have kicked you off the pedestal of best friend, if only because it is somewhat lame to have your older sister as your best friend anyway. You shall marry your best friend, it is only fitting that I shall do the same with mine.

I would appreciate your thoughts and will begrudgingly submit myself to your teasing that is doubtlessly coming. Despite the light in my life that has been meeting and befriending Ilah, I cannot wait to return home. There are scant few hours of sunlight here and I hear that shortly the entire North Pole will be encased only in darkness.

I cannot imagine being without Agni’s light for so long.

Also I miss you and Chef Sojiro’s curry.

I have no doubt that you miss me as well, though I will admit that perhaps you miss Kuzon more. I would not blame you.

May Agni bring us back together soon,

(I have a surprise to show you as well),

Your little brother, 

Azu. 

His hand cramped ever so slightly as he finished his letters, sending his father’s with the ship’s fastest hawk and Anzu’s with the second fastest.

Kuzon cheekily added his own scroll to Azulon’s message to Anzu.

“What, you’re not seriously going to stop me from writing to my fiancée, are you?” Azulon bore the ruffled hair and messed up top knot with as much grace as he could. That was to say, only a small grumble escaped his lips as he crossed his arms. “Speaking of fiancées, I heard some noise as I passed by your room, if you know what I mean.”

Azulon walked very calmly to his room.

He did not run.

He did not even jog.

Not at all.

No matter what Kuzon would’ve said about it.

“Ilah!” And there she was, laying on his bed and making shapes from a ball of steaming water floating above her.

And oh, she was nearly shining. 

“Did you accept my father’s offer?” The ball of water disappeared in a puff of steam as she sat up, somehow reaching him in two strides.

She was within an arm’s reach, looking up at him with a kind of glow in her eyes.

Silently, he nodded.

And that was all they needed.

Ilah was a sheet of ice and each moment was a little more pressure placed upon her, leading her to crack just a little more.

Then Noa was standing in her doorway once again, a smirk playing on his lips. “We just finished the meeting and—“

Ilah slammed into his outstretched arm, preventing her from escaping through the doorway.

“Calm down.” He snickered quietly. “He has to send a letter to his father and—“ 

But she wasn’t listening. She had slipped under his arm and was running through the halls of the palace, away from her brother.

She didn’t even care that he had technically been left standing in her room.

She had been nervous all day, unable to get Azulon alone to talk before his meeting with her father. 

Knowing the noble idiot, he probably rejected her father’s proposal because it didn’t come straight from her lips.

She knew there was something between them. His eyes glowed unnaturally under Agni’s light, just as her own did under Tui’s.

(That had to mean something, didn’t it?

They wouldn’t reflect the lovers of the sky for no reason.)

Ilah valued her brain but she knew when to listen to her heart. And she would never let what was hers escape.

She knew Azulon felt what was between them as clearly as she did.

She snuck through the porthole he always did, finding his room empty of him. Normally she enjoyed getting there before him, he made the funniest squeaks when he was startled.

Now she just wished he was there, even as she settled onto his bed to wait.

She was happy to note that a wolf-bear pelt she had given him lay across his bed. The sheets—silk, he had said—were more than likely perfect for the Fire Nation. But they were essentially useless in the Northern Water Tribe, providing next to no warmth.

And there he was, standing in the doorway, almost glowing.

“Did you accept my father’s offer?” He must’ve. He must’ve known that she wanted it, had suggested it. Perhaps her father would’ve suggested it on his own, but it had been her idea passed through Noa.

Surely he would realize.

The silence terrified her.

It hung too long.

But he nodded.

He nodded and she needed nothing else.

Her arms wrapped tightly around his torso and she buried her face in his chest. 

He would be hers within two years. 

My son,

I am pleased to see that you have gotten more out of your trip than I could’ve ever expected. I know you and your tendencies so I will not mince my words: you have my complete consent to become betrothed to Princess Ilah, though I would like to meet her at least once before the two of you marry. If only so that I can begin imagining the grandchildren you two may bear me.

My one regret at having you so late in life is that it is all too likely I shall pass before I have the chance to meet any of my grandchildren.

Anzu and her husband do not seem all too eager to produce children. Still, she is only twenty seven, she had many years yet to do as such.

I shall be awaiting your return home. Send me a letter as you pass the land of the Western Air Temples so that I may inform the staff to begin preparations for your return.

Your father,

Sozin.

The seal, given to him by his father for the expressed use on this treaty, first pressed into the red ink paste and then onto the Northern Water Tribe’s copy of the treaty scroll. Then, after a short dip back into the paste, it pressed to the Fire Nation’s copy where the Chief’s mark already lay.

It was customary to mark the other party’s scroll first, so that they would have mark of your commitment before you did.

That was where the citizens’ knowledge of the day ended. Kuzon took the Fire Nation copy of the scroll, Crown Prince Tulimaq took the Water Tribe copy.

But that was not where the day ended.

Kuzon left to bring the scroll to the ship to be placed in a fire- and water-tight box. Tulimaq handed his scroll off to an attendant. Together, the three royals went to the dining hall, the air buzzing with excitement and relief.

Crown Prince Azulon had done it, he had signed a peace treaty and accomplished his mission, removing a front of the war for his father.

Azulon locked eyes with Ilah as they entered the dining hall, a smile spreading across his lips.

They would not be officially betrothed until his sixteenth birthday, but everyone that mattered knew that they were essentially betrothed already.

He sat next to her and not even Noa teased him about it. Ilah teased him with that disgusting “tea” as she typically did. There was even more maktaaq on the table than usual, it was clear that someone, most likely Yuka, had picked up on his love for the frozen food.

He slipped a cube into his mouth and chewed slowly, letting out a happy sigh.

He would be happy to return home, but he had a feeling he would also miss the Northern Water Tribe. Would miss discussions about spirits with the Chief. Miss Tulimaq’s awkward attempts to bond with him. Miss Imona handing him Amaroq so that she could get a moment of peace. Miss Visola and Kirima finding him any time he injured himself in any minor way

(Honestly, could those two smell blood or something?)

to use as a practice dummy for their healing. Miss Noa’s teasing and overall insufferable ways.

He sipped a cold soup straight from the bowl as he tried to avoid thinking about who he would miss most. This one was far less salty than the tentacle soup he had tasted his first day.

Perhaps he would visit one day and introduce them to the concept of spice. He would love to see if he could get Noa’s face to turn Imperial Red.

The meal lasted as long as it could but soon the whole family was walking him out and back to his ship. The vessel that would take him home.

Ilah had stolen one of Tulimaq’s mittens so that they could hold hands within it. It was one of the cheesiest things he could think of and it brought a smile to his lips.

He would miss Ilah most of all. He knew that. He had known that from that very first day of stepping off the ship and meeting her, of meetings with the men of her family, of a meeting with her in his bedroom in the ship.

He squeezed her hand one last time as he walked onto the deck of the ship, head held high as he gave the orders to set a course for home.

He watched her as long as he could until the wall of ice closed behind the ship.

Then he watched her small purple form that had scampered up to sit atop the wall until that too was indistinguishable from the rest of the city.

As he began to walk to his room to lay face down in his wolf-bear pelt, Crown Prince Azulon froze in place.

He would have to fashion a betrothal necklace worthy of Ilah.

And he had only a few short months to do so.

Perhaps his sister could help, she knew what jewelry women liked, didn’t she?

Worry rushed through his heart but he knew it was worth it. 

Ilah was worth it.