Chapter Text
Azula woke up as she always did, one hour before sunrise. The fire burned inside her even as she slept dreamlessly in her crimson canopy bed; she could feel the heat of the sun nearing the horizon, even when she could not see it. After her morning meditation, reviewing her goals and mentally preparing her to-do list, she waited for a servant to bring her breakfast.
Azula almost always ate alone. The only exceptions were her dinners with Zuko. The Fire Lord was far too busy to eat with his children; when he did appear his presence was always intertwined with intentions. It was a game Azula loved to play and excelled at, but one her brother was far less suited to. Dinners between the prince and princess without their father remained formal affairs, as they always had been. Neither sibling knew whether it was really necessary to continue their meals together, but Azula liked keeping a schedule and tabs on her brother.
The fire princess finished breakfast in a timely manner, watching the sunrise from her window with a sense of anticipation. Visible fire always invigorated Azula, and she smiled as the sun rose above the shore. It was a beautiful day, which was pleasing because she preferred to train outside. She rose fluidly and changed carefully, making sure every layer of her royal garb was well fitting and clean. Then she summoned a servant to help with her hair.
As she waited Azula gazed in the mirror, examining her limp locks of midnight black. Her mother had always been responsible for her hair and even after two years it still felt strange when hands other than Lady Ursa’s touched her head. Azula felt that strange uncomfortable twist of her gut when it was a servant who entered and not her mother.
It was childish, and clearly in the realm of impossibility. Still, there was a lingering feeling that her mother was close, just out of reach, and that she would appear at any moment with a wide-toothed comb.
Azula watched, eyes narrowed, as a woman not much older than Lady Ursa brushed and twisted her hair, securing it in her red crown. The woman, dressed in void-black with matching silky locks, gently placed a hand on the princess’s chin, steering it up to inspect her work. Azula froze, sucking in a breath and almost barked at the audacity of the servant to touch her; but as her bronze eyes met the golden eyes of the servant she stopped. The woman lightly guided Azula’s head to face her.
Her eyes were brown , not gold. Azula noticed almost immediately. In the light it looked like -
Azula felt the woman’s hands sink into her hair and pull two strands free. Her fingers ran through them for a moment then she pulled back, examining her work. Azula stared wide eyed.
“I hope I have done an honorable job, Princess,” the servant said, bowing low in respect.
Azula turned to the mirror, taking a breath. She took time to scrutinize each hair. It took more than a trick of the light to rattle her.
“It is adequate. You are dismissed.”
The woman turned and opened the door, but there was a man on the other side. The page slid past the woman leaving. He stood before the princess with a message: her father wished to see her.
Azula hurried to the Fire Lord’s office, but kept a reasonable pace to seem at ease to any passersby. She was alert, ready for anything that might come. Her tiny fist knocked firmly on the obsidian door and she waited. Once her father answered she came into the office and sat in the chair in front of his desk.
“Good morning, Azula.”
The Fire Lord’s posture was polished, but relaxed. Azula was put immediately at ease as she recognized his good mood.
“Good morning, Father.” His golden eyes burned bright. They did not betray his thoughts, only his mood. They did not change to a vague brown, but remained molten.
“I have been impressed with you lately Azula,” Lord Ozai allowed a controlled, close-lipped smile to appear. Azula therefore copied this action, careful to not break eye contact.
“Thank you, father.”
“Tell me, what future do you see for the Fire Nation?” The game began seamlessly.
“I see victory. We will win the war and spread the glory of the Fire Nation to every edge of this world,” Azula answered after only a brief pause. Fire Lord Ozai did not break his stare.
“That is what I see as well. I believe in order to achieve our victory, we cannot show any weakness, we must be able to make the tough decisions. Do you agree?”
“I do.”
Her father was pleased, but to Azula the answer had been easy. The fact that her father questioned whether she would agree worried her, but she did not show fear. Even as the Fire Lord rose from his seat and moved to the edge of the room by the window, Azula refused to show concern. The Fire Lord gestured for Azula to stand beside him by the tall ornately framed window and she followed.
For several uncomfortable moments the pair stood. Lord Ozai gazed out toward the landscape, eyes tracing the mountains and ocean beyond. Azula remained stiff, her eyes looking beyond though her thoughts never left the office. Finally, her father spoke.
“Do you know Azula, there has not been a firebender with blue flame in centuries? The last known firebender to achieve this was an avatar.”
Azula filled with overwhelming pride. She did know this; of course she did, her mind was a trap for the history of the Fire Nation, fire bending, and unprecedented accomplishments. She was well aware of the power she possessed.
“I did not know that father,” she lied.
“The fire sages told me so themselves,” his face bent toward her, his eyes locking to hers once again, “Yours is a power that cannot be wasted.”
Azula nodded. The answer he wanted escaped her. She had rarely been at a loss for words, but whether he was questioning her abilities or something else, was for once unclear. She remained silent, stoic.
“Azula, you will rule the Fire Nation.”
The words hit her like a fireball to the chest. It was all she ever wanted to hear, but not at all what she expected. Processing the realization took more time than she would have liked. She remained composed as her father continued.
“The firstborn is rarely the best suited for positions of power and your brother is no exception. He will follow after my brother and you will follow me.” The Fire Lord didn’t break eye contact as Azula found her voice.
“I don’t understand.” It was true, of course. Azula was better suited for the role of Fire Lord. Everyone knew it; but she had assumed the line would continue as the first born inheriting the crown. As tradition dictated. She had hoped it would not turn out that way, but she had no plan for Zuko’s demise. He was good enough at carrying that out alone.
Azula’s father gazed down with blazing golden eyes, the sunlight reflecting brightly on his crown nestled into the folds of his jet black hair.
“You will, in time. Our destinies are set, Azula. I will win this war for good and become the first Fire Lord in history to defeat the Earth Kingdom. And you, my prodigy, will follow in my footsteps.”
—
“What are you doing here?”
Azula had entered the preparation room meant for the defender of an Agni Kai. Zuko was standing, staring at himself in a mirror. Under his feet was a blood red mat; it matched the ceremonial armbands hanging by a hook on the wall. His bright honey eyes were watching as she entered, taking slow steps towards her brother.
Azula had heard the news as she finished her studies in the library. The tutor was droning on about history that Azula had memorized when she was six-years old. There were little pockets of servants whispering annoyingly loud as she entered the hallway and while she didn’t concern herself with trivial gossip, something told her this was more than that. After she ordered one of them to tell her what was so amusing, she headed straight for the Agni Kai chambers.
When she arrived, however, she wasn’t sure why she had come. Zuko wouldn’t want to see her and did she really want to see him?
“I came to see if you needed any advice,” Azula replied coolly.
Zuko snorted. He completely faced her now, arms folded across his chest.
“What are you going to say, don’t lose?”
Azula smiled.
“You think so little of me? No, I was going to say General Xang favors his right side, so make him shift to his left.” Zuko stared, obviously shocked by her genuine advice. Azula felt better, which was strange. She hadn’t planned to give her brother strategic direction, but it was better than anything else she could have said.
“That’s actually helpful, thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” Azula stood for a moment and the air became awkward. It was time for her to leave. She turned on her heel, not bothering to say anything further. Wishing him luck would be pointless.
“Azula?”
Azula turned. Zuko’s face was scrunched in nerves. His emotions were always obvious from his expression.
“Yes. Zu Zu?”
“Ugh,” he bit his lip, “Nevermind.”
Azula took her breath and left her brother with a gift. He needed it more than he deserved it. Still, he was her brother .
“You can win, if you use your head. Power is only half the battle, you have to think on your feet - be strategic.”
Zuko nodded and took a deep breath.
“Yeah, I can do this. Uh - thanks, Azula.”
Azula briefly acknowledged his thanks and left without another word.
—
Azula watched from the benches, where everyone sat with excited energy. She watched and listened to the nobles nearby commenting on the event in whispered urgency. The princess took mental note of interesting conversations, remaining quiet as the crowd grew.
To her right sat general Zhoa, taking stock of his surroundings. He gave her a formal nod, but she did not acknowledge it. She stared into his eyes stone faced and then turned to the parting crowd. Her uncle gave quiet, polite comments as he pushed past to sit between the general and Azula. He seemed nervous and with good reason, this would be a difficult fight for Zuko to win.
Shortly thereafter the audience’s chattering steeled to a whisper as a gong sounded. The thundering echoes still reverberated as movement began from one far side of the Agni Kai platform. Zuko emerged, dressed in formal attire and keeping a stoic expression. Azula was impressed by the lack of fear on his face; Zuko was prepared for battle. He took little time to scan his environment before turning and crouching, the proper beginning posture for the battle.
Azula heard her uncle suck on a breath, but she ignored him. Her bronze eyes glided across the long arena to her brother’s opponent, who was shrouded in the shadows casted by the tall columns. Still, Azula recognized the build of the man. As he crouched, Azula's heart rate sped up, then the gong sounded again.
Zuko stood and turned, and the shadow followed. The prince did not understand who stood before him at first, but Azula did. Her father stood before his son and demanded he challenge him.
It made sense. Zuko had insulted the Fire Lord with his outburst. The council needed to know her father would not stand for insolence, even from the fire prince. He had to be punished.
Zuko refused to fight. Stubborn dum-dum, he never knew what was best for him. He was making a mistake, he was showing weakness. Father never accepted weakness. Fight him. She wanted to scream. You will lose, but he will respect you.
Her father did not show mercy. He was the Fire Lord who would conquer the world for the Fire Nation.
“Please father! I am your loyal son!”
“If you do not fight, you will no longer be my son.”
Azula cocked her head, making sense her father’s words. He implied Zuko would be disowned, if he did not fight. Azula watched as her brother refused once more to participate. He was making a mistake. Father wouldn’t stand for this.
Azula, you are the future of the Fire Nation.
If Zuko was disowned, Azula's path to becoming Fire Lord was clear. It was not the first time she had thought this; she dreamed of herself wearing the Fire Lord’s crown, dressed in the regalia for the coronation. She could picture it even now, the crowd was cheering for her, gasping at how amazing she looked.
“You will learn respect, and suffering will be your teacher.”
“No,” her uncle whispered.
Azula was snapped from her daydream, her smile fading as she registered her uncle cowering next to her. General Zhao wore an odd expression, one of curiosity and satisfaction.
“Well, this is a surprise,” he chuckled.
Azula head snapped to the stage as a light emanated from her father’s raised fist. Flame, bright golden yellow flecked with blood orange. She understood just as it happened, and her jaw clenched.
Zuko chose to open his big mouth in a war meeting he wasn’t even supposed to be in. Zuko chose not to fight. Zuko chose this, Zuko deserved this. This would never happen to Azula, she was nothing like Zuko.
Azula did not have the opportunity to say goodbye to Zuko, but if she had she would not have taken it. She was not weak, she did not align herself with weakness. Zuko had lost his honor, she had to guard hers with her life. Azula did not doubt herself, she did not quiver as her life shifted not for the second time. She was born for this, she was the future of the Fire Nation.