Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It’d been three weeks since the siege of the North Pole, three weeks in which they’d floated on that raft with barely any food or water, and three weeks since she’d had the occasion to relax.

But Azula didn’t relax.

Unlike Uncle, who was quick to accept the spa staff’s help, she had other things to worry about. Like the fact that since Zhao ran away, she would now be even less in Father’s favour. For all she knew, he could harden the requirements to lift her banishment.

Banishment.

Three weeks wasn’t the only type of time that had been in her mind. It had been three years since her banishment. Three years since the Agni Kai. Three years since she’d seen-

She shook her head, trying to forget that moment. It would always come back to haunt her in her nightmares anyway, so why dwell on it while still being awake?

Iroh commented on how nice it was to relax, probably trying to get her to join, but she just stayed in her corner and looked at the sea. The sea that had been her only safe place for three years, the sea that had killed thousands of her countrymen, the sea that had almost killed her and Uncle. (The sea that separated her from the person she wanted so desperately to see.) She didn’t want to relax. She just wanted to go home, or even to get her ship and crew back.

But when had she ever gotten what she’d wanted?

In the corner of her eye, she saw her uncle get up and walk towards her, probably to have some meaningful discussion about something. But Azula didn’t want to talk, especially about her banishment, so she got up and walked away before he could say anything.

She walked through the resort’s garden and decided to sit behind a flower bush. She wasn’t hiding, she was just looking for some space. The flowers were in bloom, with a few already opened while the rest of them were still buds. Their orange colour was accentuated by the little yellow petals that appeared at the centre of the opened ones.

She picked one of the bloomed flowers and looked at it. It was almost calming, looking at these speckled colours contrasting against the greens and blues that surrounded her. The sound of the ocean was still audible, and for a moment she was back at Ember Island, secretly sharing some sweets she’d stolen with her brother. She could almost hear their giggling as their mother tried in vain to find them. He always found the best hiding spots when he was prompted to, to Mother’s aggravation.

The memory faded as quickly as it came, leaving her with a random orange flower in her hand. She picked at it a few times, resisted the urge to scratch her arms, and threw it away from her. At some point, Uncle started calling for her, and she decided that as long as her didn’t talk about her banishment, she would indulge him to the best of her abilities.

*****

Four hours later, they were back from a very long, very boring walk at the beach. Sure, she liked beaches, but there was only so much sand and waves to look at before it got boring. An hour or two would have been fine, but Uncle had insisted on stopping at every pebble or seashell he found, talking about how a ray of sun hit the waves so wonderfully, or how the natural sounds of the ocean were so pleasant. Honestly, it was a wonder she’d managed to hold her tongue during that whole outing.

They walked back to their room as Iroh kept commenting on how magnificent the shells he’d brought back was, and Agni she was this close to making a magnificent fire with those bloody shells.

“I’ll enjoy these keepsakes for years to come,” he continued, making her groan.

“We can’t keep all of them. Unless you’ve forgotten, Uncle, we need to carry all our things ourselves now.”

Seriously, she could understand wanting to keep one or two small ones, but a whole bag’s worth? Plus, half of those shells were the size of her hand or bigger! It wasn’t useful, and he was being absurd, and annoying, and she was going to give him a bloody piece of her mind-

“Hello, Azula. Uncle,” said a calm raspy voice coming from behind them. It sounded a bit like…

No, it couldn’t be him, right?

She turned around and realised that it was him. Leaning on a nearby wall, Zuko was giving her a small but genuine smile as he looked at her with warmth. He’d gown up since the last time she’d seen him. He was taller, his hair now perfectly tied in a topknot with the exception of a few strands, he was wearing the armour royalty wore when outside of the mainland, and he now looked exactly like Father. The only thing breaking that picture was the big, red scar burned on his skin that covers his left eye and ear, destroying part of his hairline. His voice was deeper and raspier, which probably came from getting that burn.

She stared at him, dumbfounded. “What are you doing here?” she breathed.

His smile grew fondly. “Normally, you’re supposed to greet me back before asking questions.”

She kept staring, trying to not linger on the scar (it was the first time she’d seen it, it looked even worse than what she’d imagined and every bit as painful as she’d seen) and instead focusing on the fact that his gaze was nothing like Father’s. Sure, they had the same eye colour, but Zuko’s eyes were soft in a way that their father’s had never been, at least not around her.

She took a few steps as she felt her lips twitch and stopped in front of him. “Hello,” she smiled.

He looked down at her like she was the only thing that mattered in this room. Agni, he’d gotten even more taller than her. It was infuriating. Her smile widened.

“Hi,” he rasped. It was simple, but it made her lose all her sense of personal space before he could continue.

She hugged him tightly, staying on the tip of her toes so that she could put her chin on his shoulder, and took in the fact that he was really there. He was stiff at first, something that usually happened when he wasn’t the one initiating physical contact, but she could relate to that as well. His arms wrapped around her as he leaned in, and soon enough it felt like back when they were small and always had each other.

She wanted it to go on. No matter how much she tried to squash that feeling, she still wanted to feel the warmth that had only really exuded from him, she still wanted to feel safe in his arms, she still wanted to feel normal with him. But in the end, Zuko cut it short, and it left a bitter taste in her mouth. He never did that before. Things still changed.

He turned to Iroh and bowed respectfully, like someone who doesn’t want to interact with someone else but doesn’t want to be rude.

“It’s good to see you again, Nephew. To what do we owe the honour?” His voice was levelled, amicable, but Azula had long since been used to how Uncle’s eyes dimmed when her brother was a conversational topic. Here, it would almost be awkward if it weren’t for the fact that Zuko clearly saw it and didn’t care.

“I’ve been sent to bring a message,” he said, arms behind his back, suddenly looking like the perfect prince. “With the Avatar still running around and the defeat at the North Pole, Father heard rumours about people wanting to overthrow him. More than the usual amount. He wants you two back home, where he can keep count on all of us.”

Azula blinked. She blinked again. Father wanted them home? Father wanted her home? The last time she’d seen him, he’d deemed her dangerous enough to burn her forearms and throw her out. Did he really think she was that desperate? (Why did he never talk to her like Mother did? Why couldn’t he just be there? Why couldn’t he just see her?)

She scoffed. “Since when does Father want me near him?”

He sighed, looking like he was trying to stay on topic. “It’s not out of love or sentimentality. He wants to keep tabs on anyone who would be powerful enough and mad enough at him to try to take him down. You two fit the bill perfectly. So he want you home.”

She stopped herself from telling him that he also fit that bill perfectly. He had to, right?

“He doesn’t want to give us a chance to stage a coup,” Uncle filled in.

“Keep your enemies closer,” she nodded.

He did a noise that sounded like a one note laugh, quick and polite. “Hopefully not to that level of animosity.” His arms dropped, along with his professional air. “Look, I know that it’s not for the right reasons, but this is your chance to come back, to finally come home.” His voice faltered, like he was debating whether or not to continue, and his eyes (eye) were now wide and honest to a painful degree. “I’ve missed you.”

She stared into them, and suddenly every part of her that screamed that she never wanted to leave him again got louder. But going back home also meant going back to Father… In the end, it felt like the kind of sacrifice she could make. Ozai never really paid attention to her as long as she made herself small and insignificant (always ignored for the prodigal son instead, always looked down on when all she ever wanted was his lo-).

“I… When would we be leaving?”

“Tomorrow morning. So, are you coming back with me?”

The emotion was still there, but something passed on his face. The expectation there seems… off. She decided to ignore it. It’d been three years, maybe his facial ticks had changed a bit. (Half of his face didn’t move properly anymore, she could only refer herself to his right side.)

“I think I still need the night to take it in. Mind if I mull it over until then?”

“Not at all.” He stared at her for a little bit before asking with a glint in his eye, “Can we talk in private?”

She was about to answer that of course they could, because that glint usually meant some dumb joke or random fact he wanted to tell her, or something fun he wanted to share with her, but Uncle cut her off.

“You can do so tomorrow. We’ve had a long day and I’m sure you have things to take care of.” Again, he sounded amicable, but he was practically scrutinizing Zuko like he was about to set the whole resort on fire.

In a way, it did make sense. That glint also appeared when he was about to do something stupid while knowing that it was, or when he was very angry and tried to hide it. But she was pretty sure he’d grown out of pitching to steal pastries to mix them together and see how they would taste, or to find hiding spots in the highest rooftops of the palace.

She expected Zuko to push like he’d always done, but instead he nodded with a smile that looked far too polite on him. “You’re right, we can talk tomorrow. See you then.”

As he passed her, he patted her shoulder, and she patted his hand. She almost wanted to ask him to stay, but Uncle was being a nuisance and she didn’t want things to be weird.

Once he’d left, she turned to Iroh, not caring if things would now be weird.

“What was that about?”

“What do you mean, Niece?”

She huffed. “You weren’t exactly being cordial to him. What happened to ‘being nice to people is one of the greatest treasures of life’?”

“It’s just… a lot of news he brings.”

Oh so that’s how he wanted to play it? “Yes. After three years, it’s quite unbelievable.”

“It does sound characteristic of Ozai to do this. But out of all the messengers he could have sent…”

Her nose wrinkled as she saw what he implied. “What do you have against Zuko?”

He hesitated at her bluntness. “Nothing, Niece, it’s just… It’s been three years, three years where he’s only been around Ozai. I know that you two were close, but I still think we should just be a little cautious around-”

“You don’t know anything about him, or how he feels about me.” How could he? He’d never interacted much with Zuko without Lu Ten.

“I only meant that in our family, things are not always what they seem.”

“I think you are exactly what you seem,” she snarled. “A lazy, mistrustful, shallow old man who always thinks he knows better but is just as bad as everyone else.”

Zuko was always what he seemed to her. Things couldn’t change that quickly.

She left him alone to gather up what little things she had.

She may not fully know of her brother’s loyalties, but she knew that she was at the top. He wouldn’t lie to her. Not like this.

He couldn’t.

*****

She was still angry with her uncle at dawn, and since the man was clearly reticent at coming back with her, she didn’t wake him up. (Her chest ached as she walked away from the room, not wanting to be left again by someone who had somehow stood by her for so long.)

As she walked down the stairs towards the dock, she could spot the ship that Zuko came on. Even from such a distance, it looked much bigger than hers, which was now scraps.

She started walking again, but was stopped by Uncle calling out to her. She turned around, surprised but happy to see that he’d changed his mind.

“Family sticks together, right?” he smiled, placing his hand on her shoulder.

For a moment, she thought of a very old memory, one where Father acted like he actually saw her, like he somewhat cared. It was more bitter than sweet, and yet it gave her the small glimmer of hope that maybe things wouldn’t be as bad. She tried to destroy that hope, but it remained.

She smiled back. “We’re finally going home.”

Back home. Back to the gardens (where Mother was gone). Back to her friends (Ty Lee’s letter clearly stated that she wasn’t in Caldera anymore and she didn’t know what had become of Mai). Back to her brother (Zuko had changed, it might be small, but he’d definitely changed).

Back home.

They arrived at the docks. Soldiers in red were everywhere, and she had to stop herself from stiffening. Before, having to deal with Fire Nation soldiers meant annoyance or anxiety, depending on the situation. But this wasn’t the case now. Zuko was here. She was safe.

He greeted them from the top of the ship’s ramp, a smile playing on his lips. His stance was confident, the very picture of the perfect prince.

“I’m glad you decided to come.”

They started walking up the ramp, and she had to stop her shoulders from tensing. This was fine. Zuko was here.

The man who seemed to be the captain appeared and bowed to him. “Are we ready to depart, Your Highness?”

He nodded. “Yes, Captain. Set our course for home.” He turned to her again, eyes soft, and they both knew that the real home was when they were both together.

“You heard the prince,” the captain announced. “Raise the anchors! We’re taking the prisoners home!”

Time stopped.

Her breathing got louder in her head, only overshadowed by the slight ringing that just appeared.

Zuko’s eyes lost all warmth, and that glint appeared again.

No.

The captain sputtered something, and Uncle started fighting behind her, but all she could focus on was her brother walking away as guards tried to dispose of her.

How dare he?

(How could he?)

She easily dispelled the attacks, shoving the soldiers and the captain into the sea, and ran onto the deck to face him, alone.

“You lied to me!” She tried to keep her voice full of outrage and nothing more, but something slipped. Something always slipped around him.

“I didn’t have a choice.” His voice was cold, unflinching, and she started to wonder how much had changed in those years.

He easily dodged her fire daggers, letting her dance around him like a cat-dolphin playing with its food. Her left hand got too close to the left side of his face (she didn’t mean to), but he caught it. He didn’t even flinch as the fire kept burning right next to the destroyed parts of his skin. Shouldn’t he at least be worried that it would scorch him again?

“Why?” she breathed.

“Father sent me. He thinks you’re a traitor.”

“And you just followed his orders?”

“He was going to send someone else if I refused. And I have a plan. I can get you a way back.” He sounded so sure, but Zuko rarely has a plan.

“Get me back by throwing me in prison!”

She tried to push him back with her free hand, but he twisted her arm instead, turning her around, and kicked her knee. She kneeled down, and he turned her around again before she could do anything else.

“I can reason with Father. All you need to do is stop fighting and do as I say.”

She tried to land a hit on him, but again, he easily dodged. For that, he shoved her to the ground.

“Don’t be difficult.” His voice was still levelled, his stance loose and unbothered, and yet his eyes changed again, looking almost pleading. It piqued her curiosity, but this was hardly the time to prod.

At the sight of her clear disagreement, he lifted his hand up, as if to conjure a flame. And yet, nothing appeared, apart from the clear shift in the air. The shift she knew as lightning. The thing he used to beat himself up for not being able to do, now easily appearing in the palm of his hand. The hand moving towards her.

She knew he wouldn’t kill her, knew it in her heart. But if he could lie so easily to her now, what else was he willing to do?

She shut down for a few seconds, freezing in place, the only thought in her head being ‘how?’. How had their father managed to make him do this?

By the time she came back to reality, she could hear and splash and her uncle telling her to go. He grips her tight as they run. Zuko wasn’t on the deck anymore.

They ran away, from their nation, from their family, from her brother.

Once they were sure they were far enough, they stopped by a stream and knelt down. She stared at her reflexion, worried eyes looking back at her. She wasn’t surprised that Ozai wanted her gone, no matter how much it hurt the naïve younger part of herself, but to send Zuko?

Because her brother didn’t actually want her in prison. She’d been angry on the moment, but he had been more than clear that he wanted to help her. But Azula knew that he couldn’t. It was impossible. Father didn’t love her, didn’t see a use for her, so he wouldn’t listen to Zuko, no matter what he thought.

They couldn’t go back.

She shifted, taking out her knife from her boot. It used to be his, until she kept pestering him about wanting it, and she just got some dumb sanding blocks, and you always get everything cool, and-

It weighed in her hand. Before, the pressure was reassuring. Now, it was bittersweet.

She brought it to her hair, as close to the base on her phoenix tail as possible, and cut it. What little hair remained fell over her forehead and on her neck as she passed the knife to Iroh. She would have to cut it better, it would get in the way like this.

Once he was done, they dropped the cut hair into the stream, watching as they disappeared.

“Niece?”

She got up and turned around, not wanting to talk about it.

“Let’s go.”

Chapter Text

They had been extremely lucky to end up in that spa resort. Not only was it in a semi-neutral Fire Nation colony that would accept them, but the employees there were very accommodating and generous even though they didn’t have much to pay them. Naturally, Iroh was always one for seizing any amount of good fortune that would pass by him, so he accepted any offers of relaxation, like the massage he was currently having.

That was not the case for his niece. She refused any help other than the food, clothes and shelter they were provided, and spent the rest of her time brooding in a corner of a room or on a balcony.

On one hand, he could understand why. The siege had probably been traumatic for her, what with all the dead bodies they had encountered while leaving. He had tried to talk to her, to get her to open up, but as with most things she kept her feelings close to her heart. It was good for when she needed to come up with tactics or think on the fly, but in her down time like now, she still had a lot of issues with expressing them.

But on the other hand, he was staring to get worried. He was quite aware that this was the grim anniversary of her banishment, where she had come out of the palace with burned forearms and the image of her brother screaming in pain. It wasn’t the kind of occasion to spend alone, but like the first and second anniversary, she was trying to avoid the conversation all together.

So, sensing when his meddling was starting to grate on her, he tried instead to get her to relax a bit. That, like the other five times, didn’t work. Her back was turned to him, but he could tell that Azula was suffering, even if she wouldn’t even admit it to herself. It made his heart ache.

He remembered when she used to be happier. While being very young, she would always trail her brother, which ended up with her spending time with Iroh and Lu Ten. Lu Ten had always been extremely fond of his cousins, with his even introducing Azula to sword fighting and Master Piandao, and Iroh could see why. He wasn’t there very often, princely duties and all, but looking at his son and niece play-fight had always brought a smile to his face. Sometimes Zuko would join, but as the years went by, it became rarer as Ozai slowly sunk his claws into the boy.

When he’d come back from the siege of Ba Sing Se and his spiritual journey, Azula had been very present. She wouldn’t talk about her feelings on Lu Ten’s death, either for Iroh’s sake or her own, but she would tell him memories she’d had of him while he explained to her different types of teas. Like her brother, she wasn’t very fond of tea, but she would humour him. She had made his stay at the palace less lonely, and he suspected that he’d done the same for her, what with Lady Ursa having apparently died, or at least disappeared.

She didn’t talk about her much either.

When she’d been banished, freshly burned and dropped on the Wani, he had tried to help her heal internally as much as possible. But it was hard to give help to someone who didn’t want it, or who didn’t want to admit that they wanted it. In some rare cases she would open up a little bit, but other than that she kept everything locked away while pursuing a mission she didn’t even have faith in.

Until the Avatar returned.

The young monk’s arrival had set alight a fervent determination in her eyes that he hadn’t seen in almost three years. When before she would scowl at the reminder of her fool’s errand, here she would obsessively plan every opportunity to capture the boy. It never worked, there was always something that she wouldn’t be able to predict, but Iroh couldn’t help but be grateful to see the fire in her soul burn brighter than ever.

And now? Well, now she was avoiding him while stewing in her own thoughts, walking away from him (literally) at every attempt he’d make to talk to her, actually talk.

But it was fine. He was a patient man, he could deal with this. Sure, Lu Ten had never been as hard to help as his niece, but he could manage.

He managed to find her in one of the resort’s gardens. It contained beautiful orange flowers, but from the looks of the dead flower close to her, she probably didn’t share his opinion.

“How about a walk, dear Niece?”

She sighed and agreed, and they ended up taking a stroll on the beach. The sky reflected a lovely greyish blue on the ocean, a typical sight in the north, yet one that he always appreciated. There were also a lot of seashells on the shore, and he soon found himself searching for the most colourful or interestingly shaped ones.

Time flew by fast for him, so he had to take a few seconds to understand why Azula now looked bored and annoyed at him. She also didn’t seem to appreciate the shells, what with her glaring at them like they’d personally offended her.

Once they came back to their room, he laid each one out to admire them.

“Look at these magnificent shells!” he exclaimed, trying to entice her to think of something other than what was bothering her. She didn’t so he went on, trying to instil in her some of his good mood. “I’ll enjoy these keepsakes for years to come.”

Evidently, it didn’t work, since she groaned at that. “We can’t keep all of them. Unless you’ve forgotten, Uncle, we need to carry all our things ourselves now.” She looked ready to go on a rant about his hoarding tendencies, when-

“Hello, Azula. Uncle.”

It took everything in him to not jump and immediately attack. Without even registering its words, the voice had come from inside the room, meaning that this person had managed to stay out of his sight. Anyone being able to easily get the jump on him was to be cautiously approached. Very few people actually managed to do so, and-

And then the words actually hit him. Of course.

He turned to see his nephew standing, nonchalant, like he was here on a weekly visit. To be honest, Iroh would have almost mistaken him for a young Ozai if it weren’t for the scar on his face.

It looked even worse than he had imagined. How Ozai could ever do this to his own child, he would never know.

Azula looked speechless as she realised who was in the room. “What are you doing here?”

His smiled. “Normally, you’re supposed to greet me back before asking questions.”

As she walked towards him, Iroh had to hold the urge to get her to stay back. He could understand that she wanted to spend time with her brother again, but looking at the two of them embrace, he couldn’t help but think of all the execution reports Ozai had personally sent him, like an extra layer on a twisted joke. The reports he had made sure to burn before Azula could ever know of their existence.

Once they were done, Zuko bowed to him curtly, and Iroh returned it in kind. It was clear that his nephew still didn’t think much of him.

“It’s good to see you again, Nephew,” he said, keeping his voice levelled. “To what do we owe the honour?”

He stiffened at that, like he was back at the palace. “I’ve been sent to bring a message. With the Avatar still running around and the defeat at the North Pole, Father heard rumours about people wanting to overthrow him. More than the usual amount. He wants you two back home, where he can keep count on all of us.”

Iroh was surprised to say the least. Firstly, Ozai sent his most valuable weapon to deliver a message? (It felt so wrong to even think of the boy as a weapon, but that was clearly what he’d become.) And secondly, it was to tell them to come home? Sure, the reasoning seemed right for his brother, but Iroh had long since learned to be suspicious of anything coming from him.

Azula scoffed at the news. “Since when does Father want me near him?”

Agni, a child shouldn’t think that way about their parent.

“It’s not out of love or sentimentality. He wants to keep tabs on anyone who would be powerful enough and mad enough at him to try to take him down. You two fit the bill perfectly. So he want you home.”

It’s something to be said that Zuko wasn’t putting himself in that category. He knew that Iroh never really liked Ozai, not in a long time at least, and Azula had just showed hostility towards him. And yet he never mentioned anything.

He nodded. “He doesn’t want to give us a chance to stage a coup.”

“Keep your enemies closer,” added Azula.

He choked out a laugh and eyed the corner of the room. “Hopefully not to that level of animosity.” Iroh didn’t like that reaction, but when he looked up again his gaze was less distant. “Look, I know that it’s not for the right reasons, but this is your chance to come back, to finally come home.” He looked at Azula with the kind of eyes that he’d seen her break for over and over again, whether it be to calm her or to make her do something she wasn’t sure of. “I’ve missed you.”

That last phrase seemed to break all animosity she has for Ozai’s request.

“I… When would we be leaving?”

“Tomorrow morning. So, are you coming back with me?” For a second, it seemed like anticipation flashed on his face. He wasn’t sure, since it was even harder to read him now. And to think that he used to always be so open…

“I think I still need the night to take it in. Mind if I mull it over until then?”

“Not at all.” And then something passed in his eyes (eye) that Iroh could only describe as danger. He could remember when that look was innocent, but now, it made his stomach drop. “Can we talk in private?”

Azula clearly didn’t see it that way. Her face lit up as she looked ready to accept. But as much as he believed in her strength, Iroh would not leave her alone with his brother’s butcher.

“You can do so tomorrow. We’ve had a long day and I’m sure you have things to take care of.” Azula quirked an eyebrow at him, clearly disappointed and annoyed as Iroh readied himself to fight for his request.

He didn’t need to. Zuko just smiled, that glint still very much present and scrutinizing him. “You’re right, we can talk tomorrow. See you then.”

As he left, Iroh held a sigh of relief. Once he was gone, Azula glared at him.

“What was that about?”

“What do you mean, Niece?”

She huffed. “You weren’t exactly being cordial to him. What happened to ‘being nice to people is one of the greatest treasures of life’?”

“It’s just… a lot of news he brings.”

Her glare hardened. “Yes. After three years, it’s quite unbelievable.”

“It does sound characteristic of Ozai to do this. But out of all the messengers he could have sent…”

She frowned. “What do you have against Zuko?”

So much yet so little. His views on his nephew were complicated at best, muffled between the sweet, shy yet energetic and emotional boy that tried to learn games with him and the right hand man Ozai had moulded him in to. There were many times where Iroh would wonder if he could have done something. Been more present in general, tried harder to connect with him. It hadn’t really been hard at first, he was easy to talk to, but his father wouldn’t give him a lot of free time, and between that and Azula’s loneliness, Iroh had elected to help her in her sorrows. He hadn’t managed to reach out further, and it was one of his biggest regrets.

“Nothing, Niece, it’s just… It’s been three years, three years where he’s only been around Ozai. I know that you two were close, but I still think we should just be a little cautious around-”

“You don’t know anything about him, or how he feels about me.” She was right to be angry. She didn’t know why Iroh was so cautious with him, he never wanted her to lose faith in the only close family member she had left. She still loved him, and he didn’t want to shatter that love.

“I only meant that in our family, things are not always what they seem.”

She scowled. “I think you are exactly what you seem. A lazy, mistrustful, shallow old man who always thinks he knows better but is just as bad as everyone else.”

And with that, she left, and Iroh stood there, wondering once more if he’d made the right choice in not telling her. It was easier when they were on the ship, but now?

*****

Azula didn’t talk to him for the rest of the evening, and the morning was no different. He barely heard her as she prepared herself to leave, and he almost missed her as she walked away from the resort.

He had to run down the stairs with his bag, still not very used to this much exercise. Fighting was one thing, but a flight of stairs was a whole other beast.

Her eyes grew soft as she spotted him.

“You came.”

Of course he came. What sort of uncle would he be if he hadn’t?

He smiled and he held her shoulder. “Family sticks together, right?” Real family, not bound by blood, but love. He hoped that she understood that.

She smiled back. “We’re finally going home.”

They kept walking down, getting closer to the docks. Iroh eyed the ship regularly, feeling his stomach sink further with each step they took. He didn’t agree much with her on this matter, but he’s sworn to himself that he would always be there for her, and that included having to deal with Ozai again.

Once they arrived, he was fully prepared for anything to happen. For his instincts to be proven right and to have to fight, or for them to have been proven wrong and going back to the palace, where he would try to weaken Ozai’s reign as much as possible for when the Avatar would eventually strike.

“Sister, Uncle. I’m glad you decided to come.”

He was smiling a bit, looking too much at ease, and Iroh didn’t like it. He hated that he saw danger in every single action his nephew now took, but that’s what life had led to.

The captain asked if they were leaving, Zuko said yes, and all of a sudden-

“You heard the prince! Raise the anchors! We’re taking the prisoners home!”

Of course.

Azula froze.

Zuko’s face became frighteningly blank except for that Spirit-damned glint.

Iroh struck at the soldiers behind them, trying to get Azula to leave, but she didn’t listen, electing instead to force her way to the deck and fight her brother.

On one hand, he wanted to join her, but on the other, the fewer soldiers managed to get close to her, the better. So he made sure that the soldiers on land were all incapacitated before running to the deck. There, he saw Azula being pushed to the floor, her brother saying something.

And then the air shifted.

And then lightning appeared in his hand.

He’d read the reports, the ones that displayed the name of the executioner, the ones with the method of death inscribed in such a bureaucratic manner that it was like reading a tax report.

No matter how much trust his niece had in her brother, Iroh couldn’t let him touch her.

He managed to surprise him by throwing a fireball at him before shoving him off the deck and into the sea. Turning back to Azula, her face was still in shock and yet her eyes were blank. He managed to snap her out of it before getting her to run away with him.

The run was tiring to say the least, but they managed to put enough distance between them and their enemies. They sat by a stream to rest. Azula still looked pale.

She then brought out her knife. The knife he’d sent Zuko as a gift from Ba Sing Se. He remembered her telling him that she hadn’t liked the whetstones, no matter how good their quality had been, and had ‘convinced’ her brother to trade. He hadn’t taken it badly, understanding that the child preferred flashy tools to useful ones that didn’t look very powerful.

She cut off her phoenix tail, and Iroh wanted to say something. It had taken years for her to manage to grow her hair back to almost the same length she had had before being banished.

He did the same with his topknot once she handed him the knife, and they watched their hair float away.

“Niece?” he tried, hoping that she would start a conversation, cry, rant, scream, anything.

She just got up and turned around.

“Let’s go.”

Chapter Text

The moment he stepped foot on the ship, Zuko realised that he needed to make a plan.

It’d been a while since he’d made one, since Father was the one calling the shots, and Zuko was nothing if not obedient. Obviously. The last plan he’d made on his own was on how to survive in the palace alone, and while it was simple (do what Father says) it was effective. (Even if it meant doing things he hated himself for doing, things that kept him up at night, things that made his skin crawl every time he was reminded of them.)

But now, he had to make a new plan, which had to be a little more complicated than the last one. He didn’t want Azula to be possibly tortured and definitely killed, but Father did.

A conflict of interest that Ozai may or may not be aware of.

Either way, Zuko had to deviate from Ozai’s goal without looking like he was doing so.

He started getting to it once he was escorted to his cabin and checked that he was fully alone. It was a risky plan, one that held up mainly on assumptions and hope, but hey, if everything when to shit, he could just make explosions. Granted, he had no incentive to explode anything, but when push comes to shove, you have to make a choice. And Azula was very much above Ozai in his list of people to side with. Though then again, he didn’t know if he had it in him to go against Ozai. Last time he’d done that, he’d been rendered partially blind and deaf.

Anyway, once he was done with said plan (it was never going to work, he didn’t think, he acted, he was an attack dog, not the owner-), he waited out the five days, itching to do something that wasn’t training with his great-aunts. Agni, these two annoyed him almost as much as Iroh did. Always so vague in their language. At least Ozai was pretty clear with his threats. Plus, they kept reporting back to his father when he wasn’t there to train him, which was great because he totally needed more family members to be suspicious of.

The five days were long, gruelling, and if he hadn’t sneaked in the two knives Mai had gifted him before leaving to Omashu and been able to throw them around in secret, he might have jumped off the deck.

Well, there was also, of course, the excitement of seeing Azula again. He hadn’t even been able to say goodbye when she’d left, too feverish to stay awake for long. Father had said that she’d shown him great disrespect and that he had conditionally banished her. Funny, everything he gave was conditional. Zuko hadn’t taken the news well (she left him, she abandoned him, how could she leave him all al-) but after a while he’d come to terms with the fact that Father was the greatest dick on the planet (coming to terms doesn’t mean doing anything about it when you’re scared of someone you love) and that Azula definitely hadn’t left of her own free will. (“Zuko, if she hadn’t wanted to leave you, then why did she go against me?”)

Definitely.

Three years had been three years too long.

The day they were supposed to arrive to where his sister and uncle had been located, he had to make a speech. Agni knew he hated speeches. They had to be stiff, formal, and if he couldn’t show an ounce of emotion or play around with it, then what was the point?

Still, like most things he hated doing, he did it anyway, perfectly.

“My sister and my uncle have disgraced the Fire Lord and have brought shame on their entire nation. You might have mixed feelings about attacking members of the Royal Family, something I can completely understand. But I assure you, if you hesitate, the law of desertion will be in full swing, and I will be sure to carry it out.” Some soldiers stared ahead, unblinking and not terrible in hiding their fear, while others where less good at it. “Dismissed.”

Another thing he hated doing were threats. It was better than acting on them, but there were better ways to get people to do what he wanted than threats. Plus, these soldiers hadn’t done anything to anger him. They had actually seemed to positively tolerate him, probably because he kept helping them up during sparring sessions and wasn’t being a dick to them like most high officers seemed to be (totally not Zhao, that bitch). But work was work, it had to be done eventually.

“My Prince,” Captain Ichigo announced after the other soldiers went back to their occupations. “I’m afraid the tides will not allow us to bring the ship into port before nightfall.”

He bit back a frown. There was always something. “Is there another way to get there earlier?”

He gulped at his clear displeasure. “W-well, there might be… uh…”

He made his shoulders looser and gave him an easy smile. “Then you can work around it, right?” Maybe not barrel into the tides like some certain idiot who tried to fight the moon and ocean, but still, there was usually another option.

He blinked, probably from the shock of his reaction. Not a lot of superiors respond well to problems. “I… Yes, I think we can, but we will be a few hours late from our original goal.”

“As long as it’s before nightfall, it’s acceptable. You are dismissed.”

He watched the man walk away, looking a little less tense than before their meeting. Good.

Now he had to prepare himself for his daily training with Lo and Li, because somebody wanted him to be faster at making lightning.

It hadn’t been easy for him to get it. For a while, he couldn’t get the hang of making a bolt, which was the standard in terms of learning how to lightning-bend. Father had been really hard on him for not getting it a few weeks after starting his training at eleven-years-old, and that blockage had stayed for another year. He could make electricity, but it was in small doses. Accidentally zapping Azula with his fingers had been his first step into understanding how it worked, and more importantly how to not do it again. Then it was slowly augmenting the dosage’s surface along with its intensity. After the Agni Kai, he had had to relearn how to bend fire again (“Stop showing such pathetic weakness.”) before trying to get back to the level he had been with lightning. Then one day, he was hit with a strange feeling clarity (“Do you know how easy it is to sink an old ship? That’s why they were put out of commission.”) and managed to create his first bolt of pure lightning.

That had been two years ago.

Since then, him and lightning had had a difficult relationship. On one hand, he admired the fact that it was the purest form of firebending, the way it invigorated the nerves in his arms, dulled after years of electricity pumping through them. He found the shapes it made quite beautiful, the unnaturally bright light mesmerizing. And yet, the things he had done with lightning were… nightmarish (so much screaming, chests seizing, corpses still twitching-). He had never done them with a bolt, he took too long to make one for Ozai’s liking. So that’s why he still had to train, even under the two old ladies.

He prepared himself, followed the form that had been drilled into him (patiently or forcefully, he couldn’t remember), separated positive from negative, and released it.

He blinked, the jagged afterimage staying for a few seconds. A strand of hair fell in front of his eyes, though he could only make it out when it appeared in front of his right eye.

“Almost perfect.”

“One hair out of place.”

One hair out of- How about he shoved their bloody hair into their fucking-

He internally calmed himself, knowing that he hadn’t outwardly displayed any of his thoughts.

Perfection was overrated, but he lived to please.

“Almost isn’t good enough,” he almost snapped (Agni was that easy to fake) as he pushed away the strand. It wasn’t like it mattered anyway, he always had strands getting out of his hairline (that wasn’t even perfect because of the man who demanded perfection from him). That’s how hairlines worked.

He straightened himself, and did it again.

*****

They were loud when they entered the room. Iroh was talking about shells, maybe, while Azula looked like they had personally offended her. Even from the side, a bit too far to fully see her, he could tell how much she’d grown.

He smiled. As much as this was funny to look at, there was a family reunion to address.

“Hello, Azula, Uncle.”

They both turned at the same time, Azula’s face going from guarded shock to surprise, Iroh’s from guarded shock to guarded suspicion. That was expected, but he didn’t care. His eyes were fully on her.

Agni, she’d grown. Not in the unrecognisable sense, she still had some baby fat on her cheeks, making her look almost identical to her eleven-year-old-self if it weren’t for her height. Her hair was in a phoenix-tail instead of a topknot (how the tables had turned). And yet he saw in her eyes that she’d gotten older, seen new things, had new experiences. All things that he hadn’t known about or been with her for. His promise to always be with her hadn’t been very easy to keep.

“What are you doing her?” she breathed, wide eyes darting sporadically to his scar. Right, she’d never seen it. It didn’t matter, he was used to the reaction it got by now.

His smile grew, fondness overcoming what little worries he had about her leaving him. She hadn’t left him. Not willingly. Of course. Stop thinking like that- “Normally, you’re supposed to greet me back before asking questions.”

She got a bit closer to him and smiled. “Hello.”

He’d missed her so much. “Hi.”

Then she hugged him. He hated being touched, but she was one of the few exceptions. The same had been applicable to her before, and he wondered if she’d managed to outgrow it unlike him. He hoped she did.

Even having grown, she was still smaller than him, but he very much didn’t mind leaning on her. She was warm in his arms, bringing a comfort he hadn’t felt in a long time. They squeezed each other tightly, and for a moment, it was as if the last three years hadn’t happened, as if they had never been separated.

But then he remembered why he hated being touched, remembered the chill it gave him, the same chill that came with the memories of what he’d done, two chills that always melted together to be united by one single factor. He ended the hug before that chill could contaminate that joy he felt. Azula didn’t make him feel that, it was just a by-product. (He didn’t deserve big hugs anymore anyway.)

Oh right, their uncle was here as well, almost as scrutinizing as Lo and Li but for a completely different reason. He bowed respectfully, because he did respect him, even if he didn’t like him.

He had liked him at some point, but just like Mother, Uncle had been quick to spend less time with him once Father had decided to train him, instead choosing his sister. He wasn’t bitter about it. It was fine.

“It’s good to see you again, Nephew. To what do we owe the honour?”

Right, straight to business for once.

He straightened himself, mostly out of habit. “I’ve been sent to bring a message. With the Avatar still running around and the defeat at the North Pole, Father heard rumours about people wanting to overthrow him. More than the usual amount-” which was understandable. “He wants you two back home, where he can keep count on all of us.”

Technically, this wasn’t a full on lie, but it was a very big lie of omission. Either way, he felt awful for lying to his sister, but work was work.

Azula looked shocked before scoffing. “Since when does Father want me near him?”

Yeah, the man was never subtle in his views on his daughter, as if raw bending power was the only useful thing in the world.

He sighed, stopping himself from ranting with her. They used to rant a lot together. “It’s not out of love or sentimentality. He wants to keep tabs on anyone who would be powerful enough and mad enough at him to try to take him down. You two fit the bill perfectly. So he want you home.”

Technically, Zuko also fit that bill. But the general thought of going against Ozai made his scar itch and made him want to puke or kneel for forgiveness to a man who wasn’t here and couldn’t even read his bloody thoughts.

“He doesn’t want to give us a chance to stage a coup,” said Uncle, looking more and more sombre by the second.

“Keep your enemies closer,” she nodded.

He stopped himself from laughing, letting out a strangled version of a one-note laugh, but he did manage to fully stop his mirth. “Hopefully not to that level of animosity.” He looked at her again, and decided that if he was going to lie to her, he had to look honest. (He hated this, he hated all of this!) “Look, I know that it’s not for the right reasons, but this is your chance to come back, to finally come home.” The ‘to me’ was left unsaid, because it was selfish and why would she ever want to go back to h- “I’ve missed you.”

That seemed to get to her the most, probably because this was the first thing he had told her that was true and that he completely believed in. And she’d missed him too, right?

“I… When would we be leaving?”

“Tomorrow morning. So, are you coming back with me?” He tried not sounding too desperate, but this whole exchange was starting to get long. For fuck’s sake, he just wanted her back.

And there was also the anticipation of knowing what he was bringing her to. Sure, he had a plan, but it was risky.

“I think I still need the night to take it in. Mind if I mull it over until then?”

“Not at all.” He may not be the most patient person to have ever lived, but he could still wait for one more night. Alone with his guilt, already clawing at his insides. The guilt that made him realise that maybe he should tell her of his plan now, so that they were on the same page. She’d always been better at coming up with plans and seeing potential flaws in them, so together, they were sure to get her back home. “Can we talk in private?”

He knew she was going to say yes, he could see it written all over her, but Uncle beat her to the punch, telling them that they had all the time they needed to talk tomorrow. He thought that she would object to that, Azula had never agreed to something she didn’t want, and yet, she seemed to respect Iroh’s words, even if she clearly showed her disagreement, like when Zuko respected hers enough to not object even though he didn’t agree.

Three years on your own. Three years together. Attachment was bound to happen.

Right, maybe she wouldn’t like this plan much. But still, the fucking nerve.

“You’re right, we can talk tomorrow.” Annoyance was something he’d learnt to hide very well, and he hoped that he looked as agreeable as he sounded. “See you then.”

He patted Azula’s shoulder before leaving, and she patted his hand in return. He didn’t want to leave, he didn’t want to be separated from her again, but guilt was coming back, and he needed to prepare for tomorrow.

He left and spent the rest of the night trying to find a way to explain his plan without angering her.

*****

He didn’t sleep much that night. Then again, he didn’t sleep much on most nights. The fact that he usually had insomnia, added with the whole ‘rising with the sun’ thing being literal for him had made him used to feeling groggy in the morning.

But he didn’t have time for grogginess today, he had work to do.

He stood on the deck, stopping himself from frantically pacing around. What if Azula decided not to come? What if Uncle had managed to dissuade her from coming? What if she simply didn’t want to-

Those thoughts were assuaged by the sight of his sister and uncle walking down the steps to the docks. Seeing her closer, he noticed that she probably also hadn’t slept well. Hopefully, it was from excitement and not worry.

He smiled at her, hiding his own worries.

She looked up at him and smiled back.

Right, he still had to be somewhat professional.

“Sister, Uncle. I’m glad you decided to come.”

They started walking up the ramp, and while it was almost imperceptible, he could tell that she was tense. He would have to calm her down on the ship. He hoped he was still good at that.

Captain Ichigo walked up to him. “Are we ready to depart, Your Highness?”

“Yes, Captain,” he nodded. “Set our course for home.”

He looked back at Azula, knowing that in both of their eyes, they were each other’s home.

At least, they used to be.

“You heard the prince! Raise the anchors! We’re taking the prisoners home!”

He felt his face becoming impassive again, another habit that he had drilled into himself. When something was upsetting, you didn’t show it.

Agni, there was always something.

The captain sputtered. Right, he would have to deal with that later too.

He walked back up to the deck as he signalled for the soldiers up deck to guard the entrance. He knew she would follow him. Hopefully he’d be able to get her to still join him.

He had doubts about that hope.

He watched as she appeared on the deck, looking angry and betrayed. (I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!)

“You lied to me!” she cried out.

“I didn’t have a choice.”

She tried to attack him with fire daggers, but he dodged every strike. She had gotten better at fighting since the last time he’d seen her, but Zuko had managed to get over his mediocre depth perception a while ago, so any advantage she could have gained on him was long gone.

He stopped one of her swings right next to his scar, and part of him was proud that he didn’t flinch. Father had made sure that he never flinched again during combat, even if the dread filling his stomach still persisted.

(He noticed the burns sprinkled on her wrist and hand, and realised that Father had given her more than a slap and a banishing. He was an even worse brother than he thought for not knowing that.)

Azula’s eyes looked so confused as she deepened her frown. “Why?”

“Father sent me. He thinks you’re a traitor.”

“And you just followed his orders?”

What in Koh’s Lair was he supposed to do? Not follow his orders?

What a dream.

“He was going to send someone else if I refused. And I have a plan. I can get you a way back.”

She didn’t look convinced. “Get me back by throwing me in prison!”

She tried to hit him, but he stopped her by twisting her around and kicking her knee. As much as he didn’t like getting violent with her, he was starting to have enough of her attempts.

“I can reason with Father.” Reason, bargain, threaten, it really depended on his first answer. “All you need to do is stop fighting and do as I say.”

But Azula rarely did what she was told.

She failed to get a hit on him, and he pushed her to the ground.

“Don’t be difficult,” he pleaded, but it didn’t come out right.

Her glare made it clear that she wouldn’t back down. That she didn’t understand. That she couldn’t understand. He just needed to get her somewhere quiet, where they could talk.

Work was work.

He conjured lightning, making sure that it would only be enough to knock her out and not hurt her. Her eyes glazed as the strings of electricity danced between his fingers.

“I’m sor-”

Fire.

He wasn’t fast enough to react. The attack pushed him back. The afterimage of the fire filled his whole vision, but he knew that someone shoved him overboard. He managed to recognize Iroh’s face before the waves swallowed him whole.

That fucking-

He quickly emerged back on the docks, but Azula and Iroh were already gone.

What little regret he had of planning to throw that man under the cart was gone.

---

Ichigo was panicking. There was no point in denying it, it was clear to anyone who saw him that he was barely holding himself together.

But then again, how could he? He had been summoned to the bridge by the prince, a place where, by this hour, only the wheel officer and her second were. And he had known about this summoning since midday, waiting anxiously for the evening while the prince took care of his own matters.

If he had been summoned to somewhere private, he would have expected a quick death, but with any witnesses around, there would surely be some amount of pain.

Because he wasn’t kidding himself, Ichigo was about to die. He had ruined the prince’s plans, unintentionally going against the Royal Family, and was thus going to be killed.

It felt almost wrong for the fifty-two-year-old man to think of a teenager as something other than a teenager, but Prince Zuko was not to be treated as such. The moment he’d been in his presence, his stomach had dropped. It had been one thing to read on his assignment that his ship would be boarded by the prince, but seeing it happen was something else entirely. While the prince had been pleasant in their exchanges, smiling and sometimes even looking like a normal slightly awkward and stressed teenager, the moments where he showed even an ounce of anger were enough to make Ichigo question all of the life choices that brought him here.

The fact that he’d witnessed some of his training had heightened that fear. A fear that had been present the moment he’d seen the reports of who had taken care of a captured crew who had committed mutiny. A whole crew, slain by a fifteen-year-old’s hand. It was the talk of a lot of people who knew about it. Of course, the general population didn’t have access to the reports, but military officers of a high enough grad could, so the knowledge of who the Fire Lord’s favourite executioner was was common knowledge in the military.

And now Ichigo was walking towards him, fighting every part of him that screamed that death by the ocean would probably be more merciful.

He opened the bridge’s door, nodded to officer Yuki and officer Hirochi, and waited. They were both tense, either because they knew why he was here, or because they could see how much more tense he was.

He didn’t have to wait long before a knock came from the door. Despite his position, the prince always knocked, which at the time had been a nice surprise. Now, it only aggravated his dread.

“Officers,-” the prince nodded at both officers, who bowed before nervously going back to their tasks- “Captain.”

Ichigo bowed as deeply as he could without actually kneeling down. Begging for forgiveness right at the start would probably only deepen the shit he was already in.

“Your Highness, you summoned me.”

His face showed no emotion as he nodded. “Yes. I wanted to talk about your little mistake earlier today.”

“I ask for your forgiveness, My Prince, I hadn’t meant to say what I did. It was a slip up-”

“A slip up that caused us the mission, Captain.” Ichigo looked down, pleading to the spirits that this life would be spared while simultaneously asking for a merciful death. “Because of your slip up, we now have two dangerous fugitives running around in the Earth Kingdom, having absolutely no idea of where they are.” He smiled nastily, his anger accentuated by his scar. “Tell me, Captain, what do you think I should do about your slip. up?”

His whole body shook as he caught a glimpse of the prince’s searing eyes. “I…” He broke, kowtowed as low as he possibly could, pressing his forehead to the cold metal floor. “Forgive me, My Prince, I hadn’t meant for this to happen! I have no excuse for my actions, I swear it will never happen again!”

He stayed there, trembling for what felt like an eternity as the air around him heated up. A few steps clanged on the metal floor, a shift was barely audible, and the prince kneeled in front of him.

“Captain,” he said, his voice sounding dangerously calm again. “I can tell you’re genuine about your regrets, even if they are probably directed towards your own safety.” He grabbed Ichigo’s chin and forced him to look up into those cold yet still searing eyes, forced him to look at the marred skin that would soon be his entire body. “You won’t make that mistake again,” he smiled sweetly as his fingers discharged small currents into his skin, making him twitch. “That, I am certain.”

Ichigo’s breath picked up even more as his eyes welled up, bracing himself for the fatal shock.

It never came.

Prince Zuko let go of him and stood up, letting him rive on the floor to process what had just happened.

“Sadly, I won’t be able to see it,” he added almost jovially. “You can’t bring a boat on land, now can you? I haven’t given my official directives yet, but we’ll be sailing south, closest to Omashu as possible. When do you think we will arrive?”

Trying to get a grip from the complete whiplash of this conversation, Ichigo tried to quickly calculate an estimate, hoping that he wouldn’t anger him further. “I would say at least five days, Your Highness.”

He nodded. “That seems good. I expect to leave tomorrow as soon as possible, if any problems arise, please inform me immediately.” He started walking away, before turning back to look down at him again. “And rest assured that you slip up will not appear in my report. Goodnight, Captain, Officers.”

And with that, he left.

Ichigo got up, feeling his joints ache from the position he was in and his heart try to break away from his chest, and caught the map table to catch his breath.

He was alive. He was unharmed. He wouldn’t even be reported for his mistake.

He looked at the officers, as if to ask them if what had happened had really happened. They both looked surprised and anxious, but nothing else. It really had just happened.

He stared at the door, lost in thought. Even though this whole ordeal had been terrifying, this had somehow been his lightest punishment in his thirty-three years serving in the military.