Chapter Text
Arc 1: The Princess and the Avatar
When the crazy girl with the blue flames came to Aang’s rescue, he was a little preoccupied with the squirming frogs in his shirt.
They had put him in a windowless room, illuminated by two flames upon the poles that his arms were bound to. His shawl was in tatters, thanks to the archers who, in another life, would have been amazing friends to play with.
Aang huffed out a frustrated breath of air, pulling at his chains again. It was uncomfortable, but he could bet it was nothing like the discomfort his friends were going through. Whatever sickness they had contracted, Aang needed to help them.
And his help was currently jumping out from him.
“No wait!” Aang said, “I need Sokka and Katara to suck on you guys.”
The frogs croaked, unimpressed, and hopped away.
At this point, Aang half hoped that Zhao would show up again to gloat. Aang might not like the guy (hate was a strong word, reserved for monsters and anyone who hated moon peaches – both of which were the same thing, really), but Zhao was his only way out.
Aang glared at the door, as if he would miraculously learn firebending and make it spontaneously combust.
He was surprised when it worked.
Coughing and blinking hard to clear smoke from his eyes, Aang looked around. His heart was in his ears, pounding unsteadily as he watched the door – what was left of it – swing on its hinges.
He was just glad the door had flown straight into his face.
In the doorway, a girl picked her way around the rubble – around Katara’s age though the way she held herself reminded Aang more of a Military Commander than a fourteen-year-old.
Her eyes found him, and a slow smirk spread on her painted lips.
“Hello, Avatar.”
“Uh, hi!” Aang said, because Monk Gyatso taught him courtesy above all else, even if he felt like he had already done something wrong, the way she looked him up and down, “Are you here to help me?”
The girl paused, long enough to make Aang panic. Then, she slowly approached, which did very little to make him stop panicking. In her hands, flames shaped into smokeless knives. And despite the brilliant display of control, Aang held his breath.
Because her flames were blue. No one had ever told Aang that flames could be blue.
“I suppose,” the girl said airily, “I can spare the time to help.”
In one swift motion, she cut off the metal holding him in place. He gaped.
“Wow,” he said, then grinned widely, “Thanks! Your fire is super strong! Who are you by the way?”
“Someone important,” the girl said, “Much like you. Now, let’s go.”
That’s when a frog popped out of his shirt and bounced away. The girl raised an eyebrow in a perfect arch, and Aang, who usually held the well-deserved confidence of a Master Airbender, felt himself shrink a little.
“My friends are sick,” he explained cheerfully.
The firebender looked at him hard, “You are the Avatar, aren’t you?”
“Oh, yeah,” Aang nodded, “For sure. Master of the Elements, and all that,” he was a little nervous, and he rambled when he was nervous, “I still don’t know who you are.”
“You’re not what I expected,” the girl said dismissively, “We will talk soon. Follow me.”
Undeniably, that was an order. Inexplicably, Aang followed.
Outside, the guards to Aang’s room had been knocked unconscious. The men who had done it were dressed similarly to the archers, but they nodded to the girl and Aang as they passed, making no move to stop them. One of them fell into step next to Aang and behind the girl.
“We have the west wing, but there are still some in the hallway fighting. They are blocking the way to the main office.”
“Rendezvous with Team Two,” the girl ordered, “I’ll take care of the hallway.”
Oh, definitely a Military Commander then.
When they stepped into said hallway, there was a battle already going on. Between all the red, Aang couldn’t tell who was an enemy and who wasn’t. He cast the girl a fleeting look.
“So I’m guessing we’re not escaping.”
“Don’t worry, Avatar,” she soothed in a voice decidedly not soothing, “This won’t take long.”
She sidestepped a body thrown her way, then lit her palm with a furious blue flame. Aang must’ve been right about it being a rare colour because the fighting ceased almost immediately, people turning to her like moths mesmerised by light.
“Yuyan Archers,” she said, her voice carrying, “On the order of the White Lotus Alliance, I suggest you … stand down.”
From what Aang knew about the archers, in the brief meeting he had with them, was that they were smart and fiercely loyal. He could tell, by the way they moved, as a unit and as individuals. Which was why Aang wasn’t sure how to react, when the girl’s suggestion was followed. Unanimously.
“Wonderful,” she said, strutting down the hallway with her flame gone.
Aang wondered, for the first time, if he should perhaps not follow a strange girl with blue ( blue! ) flames into enemy territory.
But she seemed nice, if a little bossy, but Aang was friends with Katara, Sokka and Momo, so being bossy was fine.
“My name is Aang, by the way,” he said happily, “You don’t have to call me Avatar.”
They arrive at an office at the end of the hallway. Azula kicked the door down with little fanfare, not even bothering with flames this time.
Inside, a woman soldier turned to them wearing a look of someone perpetually unimpressed. The man, who might have been the leader of the Yuyan Archers, has his hand tied behind his back, with two other soldiers holding him by his elbows. Aang thought, distantly, that perhaps there were a few things going on here that he was completely out of the loop of.
The woman, with streaks of grey in her neatly tied hair and age lines beginning to appear on her brown face, spared him half a glance before addressing the strange blue-fire girl.
“I had thought you would hide your identity, your Highness.”
Your Highness . Oh, monkey feathers, what had Aang gotten himself into.
“Only a coward hides behind masks,” the girl – a Princess? – waved dismissively, one hand on her hip, “Where’s Zhao?"
“Outside giving his grand speech.”
“Then we are on time. Handle him, Lieutenant.”
The woman’s face twitched, pleased, before melting back into apathy. “At once, Princess.”
“And while you’re at it,” the Princess strode over to the chair previously occupied by the stronghold’s leader and sat like she belonged there, “Bring us some tea.”
The Lieutenant smiled like it was a private joke and bowed before leaving. The other soldiers took their prisoner with them. Now alone with the girl, Aang gulped.
“So, uh, what’s happening here?” he asked, a little faint.
“I’m taking over this precious hovel, obviously,” she gestured to the chair across the desk, “Sit, Avatar Aang. There’s some things I’d like to discuss with you.”
A frog climbed out of his shirt, finding its way upwards and onto Aang’s head. Weakly, he glanced at the chair and then to the girl.
“I’d love to, but my friends …”
“I have a medic on board. And we’ll make this quick, hm?” she leaned forward, smirking – a seal-shark finally finding its prey, “As for me: my name is Azula, Princess of the Fire Nation and future Firelord.
I also happen to be the hottest firebender alive.”
The frog on Aang’s head stopped mid-croak to gape. Aang could understand that sentiment.
There was a rumour spreading from down south about a boy with tattoos flying on a great beast. Wherever he went, he brought the fortune of Spirits, and when he left, he left a trail of hope.
They called him the Avatar.
Initially, Azula dismissed these rumours. The Avatar cropped up all over the world, in the cults of colonies and in the desperation of the down-trodden. The most promising had been a so-called airbender in the Temples in the North, but that had ended up being a Fire Nation trap. In the end, Azula had only so much manpower to spare. The Northern Water Tribe spies took precedence over investigation of a Spirit tale.
Azula had never been lucky enough for Avatars. She’d never been lucky at all.
Zuko would say otherwise, but Zuko was dead or gone or both. She was not lucky – and she didn’t need it. She wouldn’t allow something as fickle as destiny to stand in the way of her and her Dragon Throne. The war needed to end, a monster needed to die, and luck meant nothing in the face of her meticulous planning.
Even so, it must have been some twist of fate and fortune that her people in the Yuyan notified her that the Avatar had been captured by Zhao , of all people. In minutes, she had put together a team and set off east. The Pohuai Stronghold was precariously close to the Base, and it had been her first well to poison when the Alliance had started to become more than just a ragtag group of rebels. She had been waiting for the day she took it over.
Rescuing the Avatar was just a bonus. It was just two eagle-vultures with one stone.
Her only problem – because, of course, the Spirits would never give her anything for free – was that Zhao escaped and the Avatar was a twelve year old boy, currently walking beside her in fluttery half-steps.
“Thank you again for all the help,” he smiled, chipper than a morning bird, “Where are we going now?”
“The Base,” Azula replied, her tone carefully friendly, “I have allies there – allies who will help you from all over the world. The White Lotus Alliance has no borders.”
Better allies than whatever those two Water Tribe peasants were, surely. Her people weren’t many, and as scattered to the winds they were, the Base wouldn’t have everybody the Avatar would need. But they were carefully organised and more carefully allowed into the fold.
(They were, in many ways, home.)
He smiled, putting up a confident front. It was an admirable effort, but Azula could see right through him.
His story was a strange one that started with an iceberg. He couldn’t answer much about his intentions, other than ending the war, and he certainly didn’t seem to have any idea what came after that. When she brought up the Genocide, he clamped up and Azula was careful to avoid that subject. It was very clearly still a fresh wound, lending evidence to his I-just-woke-up story.
He did inform her a great deal about Zhao’s recent movements, and in turn the movements of Fire Navy fleets. It didn’t help her because she already knew, but it also helped prove he wasn’t lying.
“So you’re really serious about taking down your dad, huh?”
“ Ozai, ” Azula said deliberately, “and his war are both wrong. I just want to help my people.”
Aang beamed and Azula almost felt bad for how easy he was to manipulate. It was a good thing that those siblings were delirious with fever – clearly the kid wasn’t the brains of the group.
Azula wasn’t lying . The war was wrong, but Azula was more pragmatic than her (admittedly shaky) moral compass. It hurt the Fire Nation to stretch its armies so thin, and stripping the land of resources would only hurt them in the long run. The war had become obsolete a long time ago – they had already taken everything worthwhile and then some. Her goals were entirely for her Nation and her Nation only.
Not that the Avatar needed to know that.
“Can I ask you something?” he asked, then barreled on, “How come you’re out here?”
“Multiple reasons,” Azula replied easily, “You’ll have to be more specific.”
“I guess I just mean,” he rubbed her back of his neck awkwardly, and Azula bit back a smirk at his obvious inarticulacy, “How come you left home and started a rebellion?”
“I’m a teenager.”
Aang laughed a little, “Sure, but couldn’t you have done it at home?”
Something sickening rolled in her stomach at the thought of calling that place home – of staying there for a second more after what happened. She didn’t react, keeping her facade of boredom firmly in place. The Base was home.
“The White Lotus has been around for a long time, priding itself in being a neutral party. When I decided that they would make for good allies, they insisted on operating out of a place where multiple cultures mixed – where they are allowed to mix.”
“So … the colonies?”
Azual nodded, “Near enough to them, at least. It’s a place of convergence of all cultures –” she glanced at Aang, “What’s left of them.”
Annoyingly, her lips had downturned into a frown. She forced apathy, because frowning would lead to wrinkles when she grew up. Speaking of what the Fire Nation had truly done to the world – how it had forced assimilation, pushed down anyone not a firebender, decimated entire cultures – wasn’t pleasant. Azula could acknowledge that.
“Is the White Lotus different from the Alliance?” Aang asked next, surprising her with his astuteness.
“The Alliance is dedicated to ending the war, the White Lotus provides us with the networks and means of doing so. In a way, they are, but they work closely together.”
“That’s really cool!” He said, “I didn’t even know there were people rebelling against the Fire Nation!”
Azula raised an eyebrow, “You thought you and your friends were the only ones who were willing to act on their sense of justice?”
“No, uh, I mean –”
It would never get old watching people wither under her. Still, she decided to give the kid a break.
“You needn’t worry. Now that you’re here, we finally have the advantage we’ve been looking for. You’ll be a great boost for morale around here.”
Meant to instill him with confidence, her words seemed to make him even more nervous. Great. A self-conscious Avatar. Just what she needed.
They moved in silence for a moment, over autumn leaves and fallen twigs. The trees around them had been stripped bare by now, with the Winter Spirits bringing the cold. Lieutenant Maru led the front, silent and professional, though shifts in her body showed Azula that she was itching to say something to the Avatar. Behind them, the Avatar’s Bison covered their rear, carrying the Water Tribe children. Azula was far more worried about being discovered by someone than being attacked.
But these forests hadn’t changed in the last two years. The villages that surrounded them, the people that walked these paths – it was all Azula’s. Her flames had spread to the edges of the colonies, Jeong-Jeong in the North, Captain Sheng in the South, Yu Dao in the West and now the Yuyan in the East.
Only a shadow could come into and out of these forests without Azula or her people knowing – if even that.
“So Azula!” Aang said, loudly, causing her to startle because no one called her just Azula, “What do you like to do for fun?”
Interesting question. What did he want from her? A greater sense of who she was as a person, or an insight into her motives?
“I play pai sho,” she settled on.
“Woah, cool, so do I! Monk Gyatso taught me! Who do you play with?”
“ … my Uncle.”
“You have an Uncle?”
“Yes,” she’d be handing the Avatar over to her Uncle at the first opportunity, of course. He was great with kids.
“Do you have a lot of friends at the Base?”
“I have allies.”
Aang’s face dropped, “That’s not the same as friends.”
Oh no. Oh fuck no . She started to walk faster as the trees began to thin.
“I know! We could be friends!”
Lieutenant Maru choked. Azula was going to suspend her for such insubordination, she really was.
“Oh look!” Azula said loudly, “We’re here!”
The Avatar looked around at the clearing, confused, “Where is here?”
Azula smirked.
Lieutenant Maru reached into the hollow of a tree and pulled the lever, and the ground opened up for them.
Up until the moment that Azula showed up to glare three grown men into submission, the Base had only been accessible to earthbenders.
They were the first to begin building the place after all, their skills curving into the earth, tunnelling deep and wide. Earthbender architects fleeing from the Fire Nation’s rapidly expanding colonies sought shelter with their element. The tunnels reached into the mountains towards the north-north east, far away from coasts and along the edges of colonies.
It made sense, until the non-benders arrived, who were born to Earth but classified as Fire Nation. Who, after a hundred years, wanted shelter from all the elements, not just fire.
When Azula arrived, it hurt her firebender sensibilities to be underground. It was close enough to the surface that she could still feel every sun rise, but it pained her pride to even think of living among what she had then thought were savages.
But practicality won over sentimentality, and Azula recognised the network of underground chambers and tunnels for what it was – a perfect place to build a Base.
The Mad King had laughed, the Deserter had frowned and the Dragon of the West tried to tell her no.
The Base was now upgraded to be accessible to everyone, in all manner of ways.
Bumi, Jeong-Jeong and Iroh had never stood a chance against the force of a then-eleven year old whose golden fire had just turned blue, and whose tongue had been painted silver.
For Uncle Iroh’s understanding, they keep the Avatar’s friend in the barn. When it’s explained to him that said pet was a ten ton bison, Iroh smiled in that all-knowing way that told Azula that he still didn’t get it.
“The Avatar is also travelling with two companions, Water Tribe children.”
Uncle smiled jovially, “It’s so nice to have children your age around, isn’t it”
Azula glared, “What are you trying to say, old man?”
“You need friends,”
“ You need friends,” Azula snapped dramatically, “And I’m not talking about your pai sho ones, they don’t count.”
“You're cruel, dear niece,” Uncle smiled, “What do you plan to do with the Avatar?”
“Always expecting the worst of me, Uncle,” she said breezily, “Nothing, except aiding him should he choose to go North.”
Uncle’s eyes twinkled, the old General enjoying the game they were playing, “Of course. Two eagle-vultures with one stone.”
Exactly what she had thought. She wondered sometimes if he had rubbed off on her so much that she would one day start speaking exclusively in riddles.
It was a good way to infuriate people and watch them get angry, so she wouldn’t mind.
“Now,” Uncle said, pouring the tea and gesturing for her to sit across from him, “I believe someone owes me a game.”
“You need new hobbies,” Azula made a show of sneering, but she sat anyway, because she might not understand tea but she damn well understood pai sho. She’d never admit it to the old coot but she loved that game.
It got her through some of the loneliest nights, after she left home. Almost fondly, she remembered curling up on an old rug in the ship, nowhere to sit properly, a board on her knees and Uncle’s gentle guidance as he explained his way of playing.
He started with the White Lotus tile – more out of habit than strategy. She put forward her Lily tile, more out of nostalgia than habit.
“You’re in a good mood today, niece,” Uncle noted.
“Zhao continues to be predictable,” Azula took a sip of her tea as Uncle moved his Rose tile. A strange move, one She countered easily. He must truly be reeling nostalgic, as he followed it up by a defence of Knotweed.
“You must not underestimate the Admiral,” Uncle warned, his Boat catching her off-guard, “He has come to his position for a reason.”
“Bribery and flattery,” Azula agreed, as his Knotweed blocked her Dragon, “Don’t worry uncle, I am no fool.”
“You are the furthest thing from a fool,” Uncle removed her Rock in one swift motion, crippling her Wheel’s flank.
Irritation sparked in her chest at the movement and his words, but she quelled it. Two years and eight months had taught her a lot about the man she had once thought to be a tea-loving fool. He cared.
Cared enough to sit with her after her brother burned, a comforting hand rubbing circled on her back, even as she growled that no one was allowed to touch her. Cared enough to follow her across the sea on the promise of things she hadn’t, at the beginning, intended to follow.
Cared enough to stay.
Cared enough to teach her the ways of pai sho, which were now going to haunt him. She kept her face impassive as allowed him to take her second Rock, and countered with her Boat. He moved the Rose in favour of letting her Wheel go, and she smirked. Uncle paused, hand hovering over the board for a moment. He smiled.
“Well done, niece.”
Azula tried not to glow at the simple praise. Even after all these years, she was weak. Not that she’d ever let him know.
He moved another tile, and Azula took a moment to study the board. Her focus rested on the Wheel, flanked by the Boat and Rock. The Dragon would be moved next, trying to break the harmony with the Lily. Uncle could be so predictable, sometimes.
She looked up, and noticed Uncle was still waiting. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I know you’re worried, but I’ll be careful. Have faith in me.”
There. She said it. Emotional quota used up for the day – back to the game.
“You misunderstand, Princess Azula. I have every faith in you,” Uncle grinned widely, “Your pai sho skills are a testament to your improvement.”
Azula glared, “Watch it, old man. I’m going to kick your butt.”
Uncle laughed and in the next two moves, won the game.
“What did I do wrong this time?” she grumbled, glaring at the board like it personally offended her. Because it had.
“You were focusing on the powerful tiles,” Uncle chuckled and held up a tile between his index and middle finger, “But the Rose piece was the key to harmonise with the White Jade.”
The ship was prepared to depart for the North long before the Water Tribe siblings woke up. Azula doubted that they even noticed what that meant.
“Your bison will tire if it keeps flying at the rate that it was, especially in colder regions,” Azula explained, “Please allow us to escort you to the Northern Water Tribe.”
“And let you attack them?” the boy whose name Azula hadn’t deigned to learn explained, “No way!”
Lieutenant Maru shifted defensively. Her mother was from the North, a nonbender who had fled to the continent after feeling stifled by its hierarchy. Maru’s voice may be gruff from being around untrained fires for too long, but she still revered Tui and La.
Azula studied the boy for a moment, mentally making note of his age (no more than sixteen), his stance (defensive, but weak) and his assumed intellect (higher than his friends, which wasn’t saying much). He had been the first to wake up between the siblings, and had screamed bloody murder upon doing so, only appeased when the Avatar had showed up to calm him down. He’d been guarded ever since – which was a step above the Avatar, who was busy cuddling his bison well within earshot.
“Azula won’t attack them!” Aang vouched, “She’s one of the good guys.”
Oh, for the love of Agni – “Precisely,” she raised her lips into a sweet smile, “We have no reason to attack them. My intel tells me that Zhao is planning a siege on Agna Qel'a. I only want what’s best for them.” Azula used a tone she often used with her least favourite officers – or most favourite children, “I want to help Aang , first and foremost, but I wish to provide the Tribe with aid, should they ask for it.”
Or grovel for it. Azula wasn’t picky.
“It’s not that we don’t want to trust you,” the girl said, “We really do. It’s just that … no offence, but you’re the Princess of the Fire Nation.”
Her lips were downturned, like she was truly conflicted. The waterbender girl was the heart of the group, if the way the boys softened around her was any indication. She wore her emotions on her sleeve, expressions open and honest and achingly hopeful.
(Azula hated her, hated that there was still good in the world like her. What would come of that goodness, except betrayal? At least, she reasoned, that goodness was easy to manipulate.)
Azula let her eyes widen and her voice soften, “I understand your scepticism. My family has hurt this world greatly, left a wound on it that can’t be healed so easily. I know that we have hurt the water tribes as well … your home …” she paused, trying not to smirk when the girl’s eyes burned with sympathy. “I want to right what’s wrong, that is all. And aiding the Avatar, the last hope our world has, I truly believe that is my destiny.”
The girl leaned back to put her weight on the heels of her feet, arms crossed over her chest defensively. She was still hesitant.
Aang beamed at her, “I think we can trust her, Katara. Azula’s been nothing but nice so far! And Appa needs to rest.”
“Okay … if you say so, then let’s do it,” the girl – Katara – smiled at Azula. It made Azula feel strange.
Guilty.
“It’s always nice to make friends,” the waterbender beamed, “Especially another girl my age!”
Ugh . These people were disgusting.
But she sent a tight-lipped smile back and turned to Maru with a nod. Aang beamed, running off to help get Appa on board and Katara followed him.
“I still don’t like you.” The water tribe boy declared.
With the Avatar gone, there was no reason for pretenses.
“What’s your name again?”
She left the boy squawking in indignation.
She met Uncle up on the deck, her mood still riding high as she watched her crew mill about below them, getting the last orders in check. Uncle smiled at her, arms folded in his sleeves and staring out at the ocean.
“I warned Pakku of our arrival in advance,” Uncle said, “Our ships are on standby for your command, once the Chief agrees to our help..”
Azula’s lips pulled into a grin. she had been doing that a lot lately, “They will agree.”
“I know,” Uncle smiled, almost serene, “It seems that we are in the last stretch of this chapter in our lives, Princess Azula. It’s always a pleasure to watch destiny unfold,” Uncle said.
Azula sighed, “Destiny will not win a war, Uncle. This is the result of all out hard work.”
“Ah, but just as we cannot control the skies and seas, sometimes we cannot control the path our lives take.”
“Tell me, Uncle. Do the tides control the ship, or do I?”
Uncle laughed, “Point made. Lead on, my niece, but be wary of incoming storms.”
For a moment, the world was still, and something tense settled on her shoulders. But she shook it off.
She had the Avatar, and soon she’d have the North.
When he opened his eyes, the sun had reached its peak, light filtering through the canopy of leaves above him. A light breeze brought on a chill, making the turtleducks curled up against his side fluff their feathers and press into his heat. One of his arms was on his chest, over his heart, where it was beating.
There was electricity dying in the air and dried blood on the grass.
Maybe a storm was coming. Or maybe it was just him.
It took him half a second to realise he was still breathing. To realise he was still alive.
For half a second, he was on the grass, beating heart a disappointing reminder of life, his cheek still stinging and blood still maring the grass.
Then his mind eased back into oblivion, and he floated away again.
When he dreamed, he dreamed with his eyes open. From afar, he saw a creature laying next to the turtleduck pond, under a canopy of leaves, Agni’s light dancing across his skin as those leaves swayed in the breeze. From where he was, above and below and inside and out, he saw the creature wearing Zuko’s skin, breathing and alive, but knew it was not him.