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Chapter Text

(Zuko is five when it happens.)

They are ambushed, on their way back to the palace.

It had been a night filled with smiles and warmth with his family, holding tightly onto both his parents’ hands as they swung him as high as they could. Azula had scowled jealously, demanding a turn. Zuko carried her instead—as well as he could manage for a child—and they ran through the streets, both shrieking with glee.

The people had delighted in the presence of the Royal Family, bowing respectfully as they passed, the actors saluting them from the stage and thanking them for coming to see their play.

Zuko preened when his sister clapped and giggled at his impression of the Dragon Emperor Noren. Father had bought them both masks from the little kiosk, giving Azula a smile and ruffling his hair.

(It had been quick, and deadly.)

The alarmed yells of their guards, and the carriage violently toppling over sideways onto the dirt road. The sound of pained grunts, and deadly flashes of fire Zuko could see through the splintered window of their carriage.

Everything hurt.

His arms instinctively reached out to hold his sister, wincing as she clawed her way into his chest, trembling violently.

Mother, her robes torn, and face scratched, wrapped them both in her arms as Father struggled out of the carriage and tried to fight back.

He has faith that they will be fine, in the entirety of the minute it takes for everything to go horribly, horribly wrong.

Father falls first, a choked, anguished gurgling from the back of his slit throat the last thing Zuko would ever hear him say.

Then, they blew open the wrecked door, dragging a mother and her children out onto the dirt road. Mother had stubbornly refused to let go of her children, keeping them hidden beneath her torso. She covered their eyes, hiding them both in the folds of her sleeves.

He hears her emit a shocked cry. Feels his Mother shaking at the sight that was Father, staring lifelessly up at the night sky, his throat and robes covered in fresh blood.

(He wishes he had never thought to peek.)

There’s a sickening squelch, and suddenly Zuko sees his own fearful eyes, reflected by the blade of a spear.

The jagged metal protrudes from her chest, and she had gasped in pain, looking down at her children with horrified eyes. Her sweet, comforting scent of fire-lilies had instantly turned bitter, with the heavy tang of iron.

Zuko screams.

By the time reinforcements arrived, it was already too late.

Father was dead, murdered, and his mother was dying. Their assailants had made a hasty retreat and left the children to live, damaged and scarred eternally by the horrors they had witnessed. Zuko drifted in and out of consciousness from trauma on his skull, and his sister was knocked out cold, her chubby cheeks streaked with tears, little nails broken and bleeding from trying to fight her way to freedom.

Zuko remembers being laid on a white, scratchy cloth smelling of herbs and incense. The healers are a flurry of movement around him, anxiously trying to revive their Prince and to save their Princess.

(They would fail and be banished for their inadequacy by the next sunrise.)

He turns his head, and sees his mother, deathly pale, and bleeding from the mouth. The blood was already in her lungs. She was struggling to breathe.

With the last of her strength, she turns to him.

“Z-Zuko…” She exhales painfully with a bloodied cough. Her trembling, manicured fingers dirtied with blood come to rest on his own.

“Never forget… who you are.”

She slips away.

Zuko screams and thrashes, his voice broken and unrecognisable even to himself. He wails for Father to save them, for Mother to live, and begs the Spirits to hear his pleas—please please please I’ll do ANYTHING I’ll give ANYTHING to have them back—

The Spirits are silent.

His throat burns with the strain. The servants sob at the sight of their young Prince, so broken, so confused and in so much pain. There is nothing they can do to soothe his despair.

Zuko feels the stinging prick of a needle and slowly gives in to the darkness.

Iroh grieves when he receives the news.

His younger brother, Ozai, and his loving wife Ursa, both slain mercilessly by Earth Kingdom assassins. They had not deserved such a fate! Ozai was his brother, and despite his underhanded cunning and ruthless nature, Iroh still remembers the little boy who had relentlessly followed him around the palace, and whom he’d snuck into the Palace kitchens with, sharing red bean cakes with a smile.

Ursa was kind, gentle and compassionate, a brilliant Omega woman of illustrious heritage, who nurtured her young children with so much love and tenderness. A woman with a strong sense of duty, to family, and to the Fire Nation.

And their heirs… his heart clenched, wondering what would become of the bright, innocent children Lu Ten and himself held so dear.

They had, thankfully, escaped with their lives.

(But they had also lost so much.)

Bless you, Agni, he sobs as he hugs a shaken Lu Ten, his dear son’s anguished expression mirroring his own.

Bless you, for sparing them.

Azulon’s flames burn with righteous fury.

The Fire Lord is enraged at the brutal killings of his youngest Alpha son, and his Omega bride. The Earth Kingdom would pay for this, he had declared to the Council. They would pay with their blood, and the culprits, when found, would be burned alive.

As the Crown Prince prepares the troops for the greatest military retaliation in Fire Nation History, to bring down the walls of Ba Sing Se, the Fire Nation mourns for the loss of their beloved Prince Ozai and Princess Ursa. For months, the mood in the palace is sombre, bleak and grey. The servants bow their heads lowly to the orphaned children as they pass, paying them special attention and granting whatever requests they make, as per the Fire Lord’s orders.

They are spoiled with the best clothes, the best foods and the best entertainment the Caldera can offer. Guards keep watch over them constantly, to keep them safe.

It does little to improve the children’s already irreparable mental states.

Prince Zuko still looked so lost, the poor thing, only five, and his little sister, Princess Azula, always clung tightly to her brother’s robes, unwilling to let go.

“I’ll protect you, Lala,” he promises his sister when she wakes up screaming for the fifth night in a row. It doesn’t bother him anymore.

He hadn’t been able to get much sleep either.

“You promise, Zuzu?” Azula asks, looking wide-eyed and fearful, her hands trembling as she secures the only vice she has left.

“I promise.” He kisses her forehead. “I’ll be with you, forever and ever.”

The Fire Nation stops mourning and turns their attention instead, to their quest for vengeance. The Earth Kingdom is ravaged in the hunt for the assailants and their thirst for world dominance. Brave, foolish soldiers are slain, their warm blood dyeing rivers red. Tortured screams echo throughout valleys of fire, accompanied by the stench of burning flesh.

Their numbers dwindle, as the Fire Nation moves deeper and deeper onto Earth Kingdom soil. It will be a long battle, but the Crown Prince is determined to see it through.

The adults who fight back, who resist, are slain.

But the children shall be spared.

“Those who comply will not be touched, nor the children who are defenceless,” the Crown Prince had declared, from the safety of the Caldera. He would join the fight in time when his own son, a promising young Alpha and a genius with the gift of fire, had grown enough to defend himself. “We have suffered a great loss, but we will act with honour.”

His orders are received with a begrudging reluctance throughout the troops, especially amongst the ones who had discovered a sense of euphoria in their first kills. The ones desperate to enact justice for the great slight against their Nation.

But the orders are received, and Colonel Mongke obeys.

The soldier observes, as his squadron decimates a small Earth Kingdom village, the once-proud citizens quickly transforming into a screaming mess of burnt, tangled limbs.

Mongke turns to see a child staring fearfully at him through his tears. A scrappy little thing, with messy brown locks and ragged clothing.

A weak, useless Earth Kingdom peasant. Surely the world would be better off without it.

But, when their eyes meet, the fearful gaze turns into a burning hatred, and Mongke smirks, amused.

So the boy still has his strength. He briefly wonders if the Crown Prince’s weakness would one day come back to haunt them.

Mongke moves on to the next village and forgets.

(He would remember when the time came.)

(Azula would never forget.)

Cousin Lu Ten tries his best to distract them, bringing them delicious treats and presents from all corners of the world, no doubt provided to him by their well-travelled Uncle.

Zuzu is simple-minded, she realises.

He is quick to forgive and to love. He had found a renewed happiness in Lu Ten’s company, and relished in the attention, slowly learning to smile again.

(Azula doesn’t bring up the times she sees him weeping at the foot of their parents’ bed. It would upset him.)

She, however, does not move on with the same natural grace as he.

Every smile is a struggle, every laugh feels forced. And as she jumps wakes with night terrors, burning with anger and grief for what feels like the thousandth time, she looks down at Zuko, curled up to her side in his sleep, and somehow manages to feel warm and safe.

Yes, she thinks. They took her parents.

But they had failed to take Zuko. They will never take Zuko. Her weak (strong), pathetic (admirable) brother who had yet to birth his first flame, and who had always looked at her with a loving smile.

He had promised to protect her, to keep her safe, but how could Zuzu do that when he couldn’t even protect himself?

(Azula would never forget.)

She makes a decision, nearly a year after her parents’ demise.

She would become strong, the strongest of them all, and then watch—as the people who dared harmed her and Zuko grovelled and begged.

And then they would burn.

When Azula produces her first flame, she is five.

“Zuzu, look!” She sets one of the fire-lilies in the garden ablaze. His heart aches at the sight of her damaging a perfectly innocent flower. They were Mother’s favourites.

“Azula!” He cups water from the nearby pond in his hands, quickly dousing the flame. Azula’s excited expression turns into a pout, and Zuko’s heart melts.

He quickly corrects his tone.

“Lala, I’m so proud of you! You just made your first flame!” He exclaims, sweeping her off her feet.

“But you extinguished it!” She snaps.

“I know, Lala, but that’s because I really like the flowers. And the garden. You can burn whatever you want, as long as its not something we like. Is that fair?”

Azula crosses her arms as Zuko sets her on the grass.

“You’re lucky I like you so much, Zuzu,” she declares, and it is her own way of agreeing to her brother’s request.

“I know I am, Lala,” he kisses her cheek. “Thank you.”

Zuko watches jealously as Uncle Iroh congratulates his sister, as Grandfather nods his head in approval, and an excited Lu Ten promises to show Azula a few secret tricks to improve her bending.

The Fire Sages come, carrying a small ornate chest, and analyse her flame with critical eyes.

The Great Sage carries a funny-looking stick used to discern a firebender’s secondary gender. Zuko isn’t sure how it works, having little appreciation for Spiritual endeavours.

(They hadn’t answered his prayers.)

Azula’s fire burns bright, strong and unwavering when they use their tools to probe it. The rod in the Great Sage’s hand burns a bright red.

They declare her an Alpha, and fear (the fear of rejection, of weakness) seeps into Zuko’s fragile heart.

How could he protect her if she were already destined to be strong?

Zuko receives his answer when he turns seven, three months after Azula’s fifth birthday and three weeks after she produces her first fire.

Azula’s teacher slaps her harshly across the cheek when she falls, after a tiring execution of advanced katas teenagers would have had trouble with.

When he sees tears escape his sister’s emotionless façade, he snaps.

Azula watches as her brother pins her teacher to the ground, his hands clutching the front of the man’s robes and subsequently setting them on fire.

“How dare you!” He howls. His baby-teeth, small canines less than an inch long, are bared in rage. “How dare you touch my sister!”

His furious yells send the guards running, dragging the prince away from the (foolish) man, who had dared strike her (presumably in a fit of sheer insanity).

She smiles, despite the stinging on her cheek.

Azula is pleased, because despite Zuko having seen her fall, and despite her (temporary) failure, he had fought to protect her. Albeit a laughably pathetic attempt, a child wrestling a surprised grown-up to the ground with nothing but his fists and his first flickers of flame.

Weak.

But she sees potential as her brother snaps and snarls, eyes burning with anger. He is relentless—and what he lacks in technique and skill, he makes up with determination.

To protect her.

(It makes her feel safe.)

Zuzu is eventually carted off by a guard. He is uncaring of how her (undoubtedly, soon to be exiled) teacher’s robes are singed, his chest burnt red and raw.

Even when he’s strong, Zuko is weak, but Azula does not fret.

She can work with this.

The next day, Iroh watches with trepidation as Zuko is scrutinised by the remaining members of their family and the Fire Sages.

The flickering flame in his nephew's palm is trembling and unsteady, he realises with a heavy heart. The sages frown as they look, and look again, secrets unknown to those not Spirit-touched making them all tense with anticipation.

The rod in the Great Sage’s hand turns purple.

“He is Omega, My Lord!” the Sage Gyora declares. “Prince Zuko will undoubtedly possess a powerful flame and great strength as a bender to protect future heirs. His Mother Ursa, now passed, and his father Ozai, now passed, have honourably produced yet another valuable asset to the Dragon Throne.”

Zuko’s world comes crashing down when he hears those words.

How could he protect Azula when his body would inevitably work against him? How could he be strong when nature had already decided he was to be protected?

Grandfather’s gaze is calculating as he sizes Zuko up. Deciding what to do with him. He sees Lu Ten and Azula, by Uncle Iroh’s side (all Alphas), and wonders what he could possibly offer this family, already filled with powerful and talented benders.

“Prince Zuko,” Azulon begins to speak, the flames before him burning with intense heat, a contrast to his cold tone. Zuko shivers. “You are Omega, and therefore unfit to rule. Your role as an heir to the Dragon Throne will change, from this day forth. When you come of age, you shall be wed to an alpha befitting to your status. This is your sole duty to our family, and to the Fire Nation.”

“I understand, Grandfather,” Zuko kneels, his forehead touching the polished floors. He catches the scent of apple-pear wax and inhales deeply, in an attempt to ease his pounding heart. “I will bring honour to this family.”

“See that you do. Now rise, Prince Zuko.”

So he does, very carefully, head lowered in respect and back ramrod straight. It is a posture he had seen his Mother in, many times before she had been taken, and he emulated it well.

Azulon nods in approval, and Zuko wonders what tomorrow will yield.

As soon as Zuko leaves the room, followed by a concerned Lu Ten, Azula decides to speak.

“Pardon me, Grandfather,” she bows respectfully and waits for his approval to continue. He nods, stern eyes trained upon her visage. “I have a proposition, regarding the future of Zuko’s education, and his role in the war.”

“Oh?” Azulon raises a thin, greying eyebrow at the five-year-old. “Enlighten me.”

“In the past, omegas within the royal family have been protected, and confined mostly to roles within the compound, along with child-rearing.”

“I am well aware of an omega’s duties, child,” he answers coldly. “Do not forget that my mother, Fire Lady Izana, and my wife, Ilah, were both omegas.”

“Of course, Grandfather,” Azula bows again. “I meant no disrespect. I apologise.”

He dismisses her apology with a wave of his sleeve, a sign to continue.

“The context of our socio-political environment has changed. Omegas not of noble heritage no longer remain home, and instead, have already begun to work in jobs left vacant by alphas and betas who have left to fight for the Great March to Civilization,” she pauses, wondering how well Azulon would respond to her next statement.

“I propose Zuko be an example for our people, by allowing him to continue his training, and for him to join me when we are both of age to fight in the war.”

The flames separating Azulon from his immediate family burn stronger, intimidating in height and intensity, from her place beneath him.

She does not flinch, maintaining eye-contact with her Grandfather, but careful to keep her chin lowered so as not to challenge him with defiance.

“An omega of royal status fighting in the war? What would you have Zuko do? Entice the enemy when in heat? Your brother is an omega and should be treated as such! You disrespect him with your foolish proposition, Azula!”

Iroh intervenes when he sees the first hint of fear in his niece’s eyes.

“Father, please,” he comes to stand before the little girl. “Let Azula explain. She may be young, and with a mouth not yet trained to think before it speaks, but she is a prodigy and well-versed in the politics of our Nation.”

Azula isn’t sure whether to curse Iroh for the insult or to thank him for the save.

“Very well. Have the child speak her mind,” Azulon frowns, clearly disgruntled, but willing to oblige his heir’s request. He quells the flames, to Iroh and Azula’s collective relief.

“Thank you, Grandfather,” Azula says stiffly, breathing deep breaths to keep her voice level. “As our conquest continues and sees no sign of stopping till Sozin’s comet is upon us once more, it is imperative that we help the commonfolk adapt to the changing circumstances. As we spread our rule to the Earth Kingdom, and eventually, the Water Tribe savages in the North, our population will be spread thin.”

“If we have Zuko train and fight alongside Lu Ten and I, giving him a proactive role in the war, it would be a sign to the Nation that the Royal Family is progressive and that omegas have the unquestionable capability to serve beyond the home.”

Azulon considers this.

“You would have omegas take on roles of leadership? This would give them ideas, and end with a declining population should they feel emboldened enough not to bear heirs.”

Azula, the young prodigy his son Ozai had gifted with a name to honour him, shakes her head.

“No, not leadership, Grandfather,” she smiles, her eyes glittering with ambition. “I wouldn’t go that far. We would have them assume positions beneath Alphas, as is the natural order… but by providing them with official responsibilities, salaries and maternity leave, we encourage them to look beyond—while still keeping family planning in mind—and towards a future where the average Fire Nation citizen holds superiority over outsiders, be it Alpha, Beta or Omega. As Fire Lord Sozin himself foresaw the greatness our Nation could bestow upon the world, we too would empower our own citizens by giving everyone the right to participate in battle.”

“But Azula,” Iroh begins. “You are forgetting the obvious reason why omegas do not fight. Perhaps you are simply too young to understand.”

“If you are referring to heats, Uncle Iroh,” she smiles coldly, lips pressed firmly together. “I am well aware. But I have investigated, and the Caldera’s University has recently produced a new drug, tested and ready for the market. A drug which can suppress the impacts of an omega’s heat, for alphas to use in order to prevent… distractions during wartime.”

“I propose the drug be altered for an omegas’ consumption—for it to suppress the effects of their heats, provide clarity and free will should they choose to join the campaign. I have seen the papers, and I am certain that it is possible. It is simply a matter of adapting to a different chemical makeup. By utilising this to our advantage, we could increase the number of useful soldiers and workers overnight. After all, omegas make up for thirty-percent of our overall population, as observed in a separate study.”

Azulon is impressed.

He will not deny it.

The girl may be young, a child still vulnerable and so easily culled, but she possessed an intelligent mind keener than Ozai—and even Iroh—had at her age. Already able to interpret texts detailing complex chemical research, an impeccable sense of the socio-political sphere, and to even obtain access to this knowledge she was definitely not privy to by the next day after her brother first produced his flame...

“You have done all this, for the sake of your brother Zuko?” He questions.

Azula nods without hesitation.

“I see Zuko as a valuable asset to my future endeavours,” she declares. “He is weak as he is now, a firebender not a day into training, but he has the viciousness of a tiger-puma. And the Fire Sages’ predictions have never been wrong—he can become a powerful bender, given time and the proper instruction. When I am bestowed with my own squadron, I want him by my side as my right-hand.”

The Fire Nation was, indeed, progressive by worldly standards. They had always allowed beta women to fight, despite not being Alpha and having to menstruate, and able to become impregnated. Factually, heats were the only thing separating omegas from the rights offered to beta women. These neutralities were advantageous to the war front and easily dealt with, with the right tools and medication.

He sees the potential behind Azula’s proposal—the child was frightfully insightful, despite her petty motive. With the new offensive they were launching against the Earth Kingdom, and with Iroh soon to depart for the war front, he could see how their population would be strained to maintain economic functions within, and how the increase in soldiers and workers be beneficial to all but their enemies.

While the majority of nobles would surely scoff at Prince Zuko operating outside his natural-born position, Azulon cared little of what they thought, and more of what the Fire Nation as a whole would see when they looked towards the Royal Family for example.

“You have convinced me, Azula,” he concedes. A Fire Lord ruled over all others but still worked in the best interests of their people. “This proposal is clever and insightful. You shall oversee the production of this new drug for omegas, under my guidance. Your brother Zuko will be permitted to be trained like an alpha or beta heir, but with special considerations to cater to an omega’s needs.”

“But make no mistake. When he finally becomes of age, he will be wed to an alpha suited to his standing and produce heirs to the Dragon Throne, as is his natural-born purpose.”

“Thank you, Grandfather!” Azula beams, dropping to her knees. “I will not disappoint you!”

“Bestowing such a young child with this heavy task seems… rash,” Iroh says, when they are alone, over tea.

Azulon frowns. “She will be under my tutelage, Iroh. I’m not about to give her free reign within the university’s walls.”

Iroh laughs good-heartedly.

“I know, Father,” he pours the tea, offering it to Azulon. Normally, this was the omega’s job, but now both his daughters-in-law were no longer around to serve. While Iroh was unquestionably a master of tea, he did miss Ursa’s company and had enjoyed their intellectual conversations. 

The man briefly wonders what Ozai and Ursa would have thought of their children if they had lived till this day. Azulon can barely believe how the time has flown, and how his once scrappy son Iroh has grown to become a powerful firebender, his rightful heir, now thirty-six years of age.

“I still worry. Azula is too attached to Zuko. She is Alpha, but she is still dependent on her brother emotionally. She can barely stand to have Zuko out of her sight and burned down half the gallery when Zuko and Lu Ten ran off without her.”

Azulon raises an eyebrow. He had wondered what that racket was about, but far too busy with his own duties to go investigate. “Is that so? And what do you propose I do, Iroh?”

His son hesitates, stroking his beard thoughtfully.

“Why not send Zuko to stay with a Master? It would give him the freedom he needs to hone his skills away from any prying eyes within our walls. No chance for nobles nor the servants to acquire fodder for petty gossip. And it would give Azula the space she needs to become an independent alpha.”

“And who do you propose should be handed such a heavy responsibility?” Azulon is pleased with his son’s quick, strategic thinking. He had been raised well, and the Fire Nation would flourish under his reign.

Iroh smiles.

“An old friend.”

When Zuko is told to pack, Azula throws a fit.

It is an ungodly temper tantrum, unlike anything he’s seen before, fire everywhere and sending their poor servants running in fear (he would apologise to them later when Azula was asleep).

“That stupid, meddlesome old man!” She snarls, punching flame at the curtains. “You were supposed to be by my side! We were going to be trained together!”

Zuko cautiously places his hands on Azula’s shoulders.

“Lala,” he says in the best calming voice he can muster. “You know it can't work like that. Not anymore. I’ll send letters to you every day, okay? I’m going to stay with Master Piandao for three years, which is a long time, but I’ll be back!”

“Three years,” Azula spins around, shrugging his hands off. She is so angry she’s shaking. “Three years of living apart! You can’t possibly be as calm about this as you look.”

Zuko shakes his head.

“No, I’m not.”

“Then why? Why not protest? Fight for your right to stay here with me. Grandfather already indulged my request, and I doubt he’d appreciate it if I were to test his patience again.”

He sighs, pulling a stubborn Azula into an embrace.

The flames around them still, then start to dim, turning into manageable embers charring the furniture. Zuko paid it no mind. By tomorrow, everything damaged would have been replaced without a word.

“Because Master Piandao is strong, Lala. He’s a beta who won all his battles with nothing but swords. He’s not even a bender! And if there’s a chance I can become strong like him—like you—I’ll take it. Even if it means we have to be separated for the time being. Whatever happened to thinking ahead?” He teases her and earns himself a flick on the forehead.

“I don’t need lectures from you, Zuzu,” she huffs. But his attempt at comforting her works and her temper is quelled. “But I suppose you’re right. This is a tactical advantage in the long-run, and it would be good for you to rely on something other than firebending, because you’d probably be terrible at it,” she smirks at his pout. “Though I hardly appreciate our dear Uncle deciding what’s best for us.”

She turns to the window with a dramatic sigh. “If only Father were still around. He would be having none of this.”

Zuko’s smile falters.

“Yeah. I’m sure Father would have said something. Mother, too. They would have helped us.”

Azula hums thoughtfully.

“Well, it is an interesting thought, what they could have been like. I wonder how they would have reacted to you being Omega? They’ve always been married into the family, not born. I think Grandfather and Uncle both took the news exceptionally well.”

Zuko shrugs. “It had to have happened eventually. You can’t stop nature. Good thing it was me, and not you.”

Azula grins at those words.

“You always know what to say.”

“Of course! I’m your brother!”

“Dum dum,” she sticks her tongue out at him. “Go pack.”

Zuko rolls his eyes but obeys anyway, grumbling under his breath about temperamental, bossy little sisters. Azula pretends not to hear.

In a week’s time, Zuko is standing at the docks, ready to bid his family goodbye before his journey to Shu Jing.

Fire Lord Azulon is seated on his palanquin, while Uncle Iroh and Azula both give him tight embraces and their own versions of encouragement.

“You’d better train hard, Zuzu,” she whispers. “You need to be strong if we’re going to win this war.”

“I promise, Lala,” he assures her.

The servants help him load his baggage onto the ship as he kneels before Grandfather, head lowered in submission.

“Safe travels, Prince Zuko,” Azulon nods. “Bring honour to our family name.”

“I will, Grandfather.”

“Wait! Wait for me! Dad!”

Iroh chuckles as he spies Lu Ten in the distance, pushing through the crowd, who jump apart immediately with hurried bows for their Prince.

“You were about to miss the ship, my dear boy,” he places a hand on Lu Ten’s shoulder. “We were afraid Zuko would have to leave without you.”

He does not miss the indignant expression on his niece’s face. He had tried to have Lu Ten meet his nephew separately in Shu Jing, but Azulon had disagreed, wanting to see Azula’s reaction.

“… Cousin Lu Ten is going with Zuko?” She asks with her hands clasped firmly behind her back.

“Lu Ten has shown a keen interest in learning the art of the blade,” Iroh admits, giving his boy a bright smile. His mother would have been so proud of him. “Having him accompany Zuko to train under the greatest swordsman in Fire Nation history would be beneficial to them both.”

“Surely Lu Ten has no need to resort to mere weaponry?” Azula asks, her expression innocent, but words lined with malice. “And Zuko really doesn’t need any distractions during his training, does he?”

“Quiet, Azula! You will show your cousin respect!” Azulon hisses. “Lu Ten is a powerful firebender, more so than you, and he has been granted this request as a reward for his exemplary prowess with the flame.”

“Of course, Grandfather,” she bows and turns her doe-eyes to Lu Ten. “I’m sorry, cousin.”

Iroh knows his niece really isn’t sorry at all—and Lu Ten surely knows this too—but his boy just laughs, giving Azula a light pat on the head.

“That’s alright, Azula! I’ll be back and forth anyway... I do have responsibilities here that need fulfilling,” he leans down to Azula’s height, cupping his hand to whisper in her ear. But not too softly that Azulon and Iroh cannot catch.

“I’ll be sure to look out for Zuko while I’m there. He’ll come back to you safe.”

Iroh’s heart bursts with pride at his son’s empathy and understanding. Azula becomes visibly relaxed at his assurance, her stiff posture finally loosening as she throws her cousin a meaningful look.

“Do you promise?”

“Cross my heart and hope to burn!” Lu Ten grins.

Azula sighs and nods.

“You should go now,” she points to the ship, her finger jabbing towards Zuko, who is occupied with waving enthusiastically to the common folk from the deck. “He’ll be happy to see you.”

Much like an older sibling giving permission to court, Iroh thinks bemusedly. He catches his Father’s eye and sees the slight upturn of his lips.

Azulon really did hold a soft spot for the family. Iroh was thankful that they all got along, despite the great loss they had suffered. The orphaned heirs had grown wonderfully. 

He looks to the sky and wishes Ozai and Ursa could have been here to see it.

In his fallen brother and sister-in-law’s name, and for the honour of the Fire Nation, he will see to it that Ba Sing Se’s great walls are penetrated, and have their capital city submit to Fire Nation rule.

That is if we don’t burn it to the ground first. 

Iroh laughs at the thought.

Lu Ten hugs his Dad goodbye, bows to Grandfather, and waves to his people as he boards the ship. The populace cheers loudly for their princes, wishing them a fruitful journey and admiring them in all their regal finery. 

“Cousin Lu Ten!” Zuko gasps, running over. He grins and grabs little Zuko, holding him gently in his arms. Lu Ten was thirteen now, taller and stronger, and had no trouble manhandling the younger prince.

They really needed to get some muscle on him! Zuko was all skin and bones.

“I thought you weren’t coming to say goodbye!”

“I’m not,” Lu Ten hums, enjoying the way Zuko’s face twists with confusion. “I’m not saying goodbye. You’re not the only one lucky enough to study under Master Piandao.”

He winks and watches as Zuko goes from befuddled to shocked, to overwhelming happy—

Oof!

“I’m so glad you’re coming!” Zuko squeals, grabbing his cousin’s robes so tight he thinks he hears something rip. “But wait… won’t Azula be mad?”

Zuko slowly—almost fearfully—turns his gaze to where Azula is standing, with his Dad and Grandfather.

The little princess is pouting but doesn’t show any signs of being upset, nor on the verge of another tantrum (she was a spitfire, that kid).

“She gave us her blessing,” Lu Ten winks. “I promised her I’d look out for you.”

Zuko scowls. “I’m not a baby! Why does everyone think they need to look out for me?!” He wriggles out of Lu Ten’s arms and lands on his feet, shoes colliding loudly with the metal flooring.

Lu Ten watches his cousin stomp his way across the deck of their enormous ship (only the best for the Princes). Oh boy, Zuko was definitely going to be a handful. He may not share the same tendencies to throw fire when he was upset like Azula, but he could sulk for hours until he was appeased.

Beneath the tragedy which had struck his little cousins, Zuko was miraculously, still an innocent child, filled with wonder and naïveté. Though he could not say the same for Azula, unsure whether it was her parents’ deaths or her own ambition which drove her to seek great strength. He was incredibly thankful that the siblings had been somehow spared—and given the chance to grow into the powerful Prince and Princess Lu Ten knew they would no doubt become.

Even if they no longer had parents to love and nurture them… at the very least, they would have each other, and the family.

And Lu Ten would do his best to ensure it stayed this way.

Chapter Text

The time spent in Shu Jing with Master Piandao had easily been the best three in Zuko’s young life.

Away from the palace, from Grandfather’s scrutinising eye and the pitying gazes of the servants, the young prince guiltlessly began to enjoy small freedoms he would have never been able to before.

Things like slouching, for example. Bad posture was a definite no-no in the palace. Not when there were important dignitaries and Generals who roamed every corner, and Governess Sanako, who would have boxed his ears mercilessly for it.

Sitting cross-legged at the dinner table had also been another small luxury he’d come to enjoy. There were no servants moving back and forth across the room, nobody to chide him for leaning his elbows on the table, or for sticking his chopsticks into his rice bowl (disrespectful, to their ancestors).

It had just been him, Lu Ten and Master Piandao, seated casually around a small kotatsu, sharing stories about their day, discussing news from the capital—and whatever slightly inappropriate jokes Lu Ten had in store for the evening.

This was not to say his time away had been easy, in any shape or form.

He missed Azula terribly. They’d been attached to the hip since her birth, and after Father and Mother’s deaths, she had been his light at the end of a very long and dark tunnel. His existence was tied to hers and would be, until the day he was inevitably married off, or the day she no longer needed him. Despite having accepted this as grim reality the day he’d finally been declared Omega, the latter thought chills him.

Struggling with homesickness hadn't taken away how much Zuko had enjoyed learning the art of swordsmanship. Every moment of it, in spite of the initial rough start he’d had upon arriving (resulting in an embarrassing moment of weakness where he’d sent a letter to Azula asking to come home) (she had ignored him for ages after that), filled him with joy and a sense of accomplishment in being able to fight, to do something other than quail in fear should the time come again when his life (and more importantly, Azula’s life) was in danger.

Lu Ten regarded their shared training in Shu Jing very differently, this Zuko knew. His cousin was going to be the Fire Lord one day after all, and he was Alpha. He treated the art of the blade with far more casualness than Zuko himself dared. Often whining about sore callouses from being forced to parry and thrust for hours (for a soon-to-be sixteen years old, he had moaned and groaned twice as much as Zuko) and scoffed at Master Piandao’s attempts to instil the beauty of worldly philosophies in their heads.

(“Why bother learning anything from Earth Kingdom peasants?”)

Zuko had heard rumours that Master Piandao was incredibly particular about the students he chose to take under his wing. Perhaps being princes had left the poor man with little choice… Lu Ten would have been chucked out ages ago, Zuko was sure. 

Nevertheless.

Both royals had bloomed wonderfully under the Master’s tutelage, and Zuko was gifted with a pair of beautiful, deadly broadswords to call his own. Lu Ten, on the other hand, was presented with a longsword—its design much more elaborate and with a lot more gold embellishing—which was perfectly weighted to suit the strength of his arm.

Zuko, already in the know about his cousin’s less-than-princely mannerisms after three years of constant exposure, doubted Lu Ten would find much use for it other than as a decorative ornament carried on his person, used to impress omegas.

It was understandable, even if he hated to admit it.

Lu Ten's true combative talents, like most of Sozin’s line, lay in the form of firebending.

His cousin’s visits to Shu Jing had been the result of his own interests and whim, one which Uncle Iroh had generously obliged.

Unlike him, Zuko himself did not have a choice. 

He counted himself very lucky that Master Piandao was a kind and patient master, who relied on words rather than force to get his point across. He hadn’t treated Zuko any different from Lu Ten either, despite being Omega.

“The right to learn the ways of the sword does not belong to Alphas and Betas alone,” Piandao gave Zuko's shoulder a squeeze. It was like he'd known what Zuko had been thinking all along.

“Remember why you fight, Zuko. Remember what I’ve taught you, and how much you’ve changed. Have courage. Know that you can be strong.”

Piandao’s final words of farewell had filled Zuko with so many different, overwhelming emotions. They reminded him so much of his Mother’s, her last words a bittersweet mantra he repeats to himself every night.  

Never forget who you are.

Bidding his Master farewell with tears streaming down his cheeks, Zuko nods furiously, burrowing into Piandao's robes, which smell of spring rain, and smoke. 

Zuko is led away from the mansion he'd come to know as a second home.

He wonders if he'll ever lay eyes on it again. 

As they sail across the choppy ocean waters towards the Gates of Azulon, Zuko politely observes Lu Ten practising his katas, on the deck of the Wani.

He has always been mesmerised by the raw power cousin Lu Ten possessed. His flames were incredibly powerful. They could reach twice as far as a normal bender's, his fire-fists a trademark move that could shatter stone walls.

Azula, too, with all her brilliance, would inevitably become a powerful bender as well. She claimed to wield the blue flame in one of her previous letters, about a year ago. It had filled him with pride and excitement, though he was ashamed to admit he'd felt a tinge of envy as well.

How wonderful it would be if they were both Alpha. Perhaps they’d be more evenly matched then? 

(Or maybe he’d still be the same, burdened with twice the pressure. Constantly being compared to a prodigal younger sister he would never best.)

No matter. The Zuko from all those years ago would have been intimidated by his family’s talents. But now that he was an omega, he knew his purpose, along with the expectations laid upon his shoulders.

He would remain one step behind the alphas he served, as was his natural disposition (both in skill and orientation), but still have to be above those of lower stations, as was the duty of any royal, Omega or not. He would prove his worth to Azula, as a valuable asset, and perform his duties with a conviction that would make Grandfather proud.

“How was that, cousin?” Lu Ten turns to him, panting from the exertion. “Am I not the best firebender you’ve ever seen?”

“No,” Zuko tries not to smirk when his cousin gives him a hurt look. “That would be Crown Prince Iroh, second only to the Firelord.”

“Such proper words for a proper prince,” Lu Ten snorts, taking an offered towel from one of their servants. “Practicing for when we get home?”

“Maybe.”

“Good call! Use those omega charms to your advantage, Zuzu,” he says in falsetto, placing his hands on his hips and mimicking a certain, prodigal princess. “And remember—don’t firebend like Lu Ten! Don’t listen to Lu Ten’s moronic advice! Don’t do anything Lu Ten says because I’m right and he’s wrong—”

“Okay, stop,” Zuko rolls his eyes. “I’ve had to endure both of your complainings for three years. Are the two of you ever going to stop acting like wild dragon moose?”

“Nope!”

“Not even if it makes me happy?” Zuko asks, making sure to pout, aiming his best fox puppy eyes at his older cousin.

“Sorry, Zuzu,” Lu Ten shrugs, completely unapologetic and continuing to tease him in a sing-song voice. “I guess you’re just gonna have to deal with us fighting… over you. Because we will. That's a promise.”

Zuko groans and flops unceremoniously onto his back.

Stupid, bone-headed Alphas!

Azula has been preparing for this day for three long years.

She’d made all the proper arrangements. Given the servants a thoroughly descriptive list of instructions. Planned the outfit she would wear, from head to toe (hair in a topknot, of course). The gift she would bestow Zuko with. The exact words she would say, the posture she would exhibit—even going so far as to practice the facial expression she would show in a mirror, so as not to embarrass herself in public.

Of course, that all goes flying out the window when she sees Zuko running towards her at full throttle, tears already springing from his eyes, his scent of fire-lilies and honey (so much like Mother’s) assaulting her nose mercilessly from a distance's away.

“Lala!” He cries, throwing his arms around her. “I’ve missed you so much!”

(Azula’s arms immediately come up to wrap around him too, her nails digging into his back. She will deny this till the day she dies.)

She composes herself and inhales—slowly—allowing a small smile to escape the façade when Zuko gives her an affectionate kiss on the cheek. Multiple, really. She wrinkles her nose when he starts getting too enthusiastic, jabbing him sharply in the ribs with her elbow.

“Stop slobbering on me,” she snaps, pushing him back by the shoulders (good thing Grandfather wasn’t here to witness this melodramatic sight) and giving him a thorough examination.

He looked decently healthy.

Unscathed. No visible scars (she would double-check later in private). He was positively radiating with happiness, as was expected at seeing her again. He had also become taller, but still gangly and fragile. 

But Zuko definitely looked stronger. And he carried himself with newfound confidence he certainly hadn’t possessed, back when they’d been snivelling brats helpless in the face of death.

So he’s changed.

Azula is pleased by this.

(After all, she has changed too.)

“Hey, cuz’,” Lu Ten greets her with a lot less enthusiasm and a lazy wave, as he saunters up to Zuko’s side. “Happy to see me?”

“Absolutely not,” she crosses her arms, giving him a haughty look. 

“Huh. Me neither,” Lu Ten crosses his arms too, copying her.

They regard each other with disdain for a long moment until Lu Ten gets it in his head to suggest something completely ludicrous to her brother. 

“Hey, Zuko, wanna race back to the palace?”

“You’re on!”

Before the knuckle-brained boys can embarrass themselves any further, Azula snatches Zuko’s arm in a tight grip and yanks him towards the palanquins, which have been polished to shine in the sun.

There are only two waiting; one for her, and one for Zuko.

“Oh, my. I must have forgotten to call one for you too, cousin,” her voice is dripping with uninhibited glee as she regards him over her shoulder. “Too bad. Looks like you’ll have to walk home.”

She finds it hilarious how wide-eyed Zuko goes, staring back and forth between her and Lu Ten like an alarmed koala sheep.

Oh, if only he’d seen the fights they’d had while he was away.

It was great entertainment, at the very least. Her cousin was a worthy firebending opponent—even if he remained an incorrigible annoyance.

Shoving Zuko into the palanquin she’d chosen for him (luxurious and comfortable, albeit slightly smaller than her own), she walks towards where hers is waiting.

“Hey Zuzu, move over,” she bristles at Lu Ten's tone, the one signifying he's up to something (like the time he'd put hot peppers in her tea). 

So she turns around and to her absolute horror, she sees Lu Ten ungracefully barging his way onto Zuko’s palanquin (meant to hold a single individual), the two of them now squished tightly against each other in the small space.

“Let’s go! Back to the palace, c'mon,” Lu Ten barks cheerfully, egging her on, and the servants gladly obey the royal of higher station, despite her furious protests. 

Zuko hides his face in his hands as Azula and Lu Ten argue back and forth on the moving palanquins, their voices increasing in volume and gradually becoming a shouting match, in plain sight of the curious citizens who’d come to witness.

It was a good thing the curtains kept their faces veiled, even if the sheer fabric wasn't able to muffle the petty insults exchanged from his sister to cousin.

The overwhelming joy he’d experienced at finally seeing his sister again had quickly dulled at the sight of this childish behaviour displayed by his family—the ROYAL family—Azulon's heirs snapping at each other like the bone-headed Alphas they were beneath all the pomp and circumstance, with no regards for his feelings.

“Shut up,” he mumbles to himself while praying to Agni for strength. “Spirits. Both of you are so embarrassing.”

Azula doesn’t hear (her palanquin a few meters before theirs), but Lu Ten does. He snickers and slings an arm around Zuko’s shoulders, giving him a very loud and obnoxious smooch on the cheek.

Azula hears that. She immediately snaps a very detailed death-threat Lu Ten's way. (Zuko's worried she might sprain her neck, twisting around like that.) 

“EURGH!” He yelps, wiping his face furiously with his sleeve and making a mental note to change before seeing Grandfather later. “Lu Ten quit it!”

“You kissed Azula, so why aren’t I allowed?” His cousin pouts and bats his eyes, parodying the look Zuko had made the mistake of showing earlier. 

“She’s my sister!”

“I’m your cousin.”

“… She’s younger.”

“And?”

Zuko shakes his cousin’s arm off with a defeated snarl.

He hasn't been back for even an hour and already has he resigned himself to a life of being involved in this unending tug-of-war between the two most important alphas in his life. He’d never be able to pick sides. He loved them both equally, and it would stay that way, whether they liked it or not.

Chapter Text

Grandfather asks to see him immediately.

So the moment their palanquins cross the threshold, Azula and Lu Ten part ways from him, leaving him alone to prepare.

Well, not alone-alone. He’s quickly greeted by servants who excitedly usher him into his private quarters, already refurbished and renovated to include a private bathhouse. It would no longer be appropriate for Zuko to use the baths frequented by his alpha sister and cousin, due to his omega nature. The omega attendants gush over his new height, his long, silky hair, promising to serve him dutifully in the years to come. And Zuko thanks them.

Scrubbed raw and forced into stiflingly formal clothing, the prince hurries along the polished hallways. He is flanked by the tallest of his small entourage, who skilfully attach the final, outermost layer of armour on his shoulders, tailored to fit his petite frame.

Armour was hardly the normal code of dress for a young omega prince. However, in light of the new political climate, it would serve as a testament to the Royal Family’s new position. (Of course, this had been Azula’s idea.)

“Prince Zuko,” the guards stiffen when he approaches, bowing as low as they can in their much bulkier armour. “Welcome home.”

“Thank you,” Zuko acknowledges them with the warmest of smiles.

They pull aside the heavy curtains leading to the Fire Lord’s chambers. Zuko takes a deep breath, holds his head high, and walks in.

Sweltering flames stretch across the raised platform, and Fire Lord Azulon sits regally atop his dais, looking down upon him. Azula and Lu Ten flank Azulon’s left and right sides respectfully, different expressions on their faces.

Lu Ten wears a kind smile on his lips, gold eyes glittering with mirth as the Fire Lord pretends to be indifferent to their omega's return. Azula, on the other hand, mirrors Azulon’s emotionless façade, a picture of cold-blood perfection.

Zuko immediately sinks into a low kowtow.

“Grandfather,” he says, the ends of his phoenix’s tail brushing the cool floor. “I have returned.”

“So you have,” Azulon remarks. “Rise, Prince Zuko. Be at ease.”

“Thank you, Grandfather,” Zuko rises from his bow, chancing a tiny smile. He feels warmth bubbling in his chest as Grandfather gifts him with a nod of his own.

“You have done well, child,” he begins. “Lu Ten tells me you have flourished under Piandao’s tutelage. I suppose even a deserter like him remains of use to the nation.”

“Yes,” Zuko responds, keeping his gaze level. “He’s taught me much. It would be my pleasure to show you what I’ve learned. Perhaps a demonstration…?”

“Another time,” Azulon declines. “There are more pressing matters to discuss.”

Zuko steals a peek at Azula, who stubbornly refuses to meet his eye.

“Your formal education as a prince, and an omega of royal status, begins now,” Azulon explains, motioning for someone to approach.

Two figures emerge from the shadows.

Zuko recognises them immediately. Their robes are adorned with three layers of thick shoulder-pads, in an uncomfortable-looking show of pomp that rivals even the Fire Lord's own regalia. 

“Lo and Li,” he lowers his head politely, as the old women appear before him. “I am pleased to see you both in good health.”

“We thank you, Zuko.”

“And we are honoured to welcome you home.”

The sisters’ disregard for the Royal Family’s titles would have been seen as blasphemous by most people living outside the palace walls. But they had been handpicked by the Great Sozin himself, gifted to Azulon as advisors at the very beginning of his reign. Heralded for their cunning and wisdom, the beta twins had stood by Azulon’s side throughout the Battle of Garsai, where Grandfather had achieved absolute victory.

They were to be treated with the utmost respect.

“Lo and Li shall be your educators. They will equip you with the tools you’ll need in the Royal Court,” Azulon declares. “Regardless of the Gender Equality Movement campaigned by your sister—as a prince, and omega of royal standing, it is important that you adhere to our traditions. Flawless etiquette is to be expected from you. This will prove essential when you are of age and ready to be courted.”

“Of course, Grandfather,” Zuko salutes with the flame. “I won’t disappoint you.”

Azulon scrutinises Zuko’s reaction. Seeing no sign of hesitance on Zuko’s part, he continues.

“As originally agreed between all the alphas in our family, you will be attending firebending lessons with Master Kunyo. But after some deliberation, it was decided that the bulk of the mandatory Fire Nation curriculum shall be taught to you here, by private tutors.”

Zuko falters, just a bit. “So I won’t be attending the academy?”

“No,” Azulon shakes his head. “The Royal Academy is not yet equipped to teach omega children or cater to their needs should any... accidents occur.”

The young prince looks utterly crushed. Feeling his heart soften at Zuko's outward distress, Lu Ten decides to speak—but he is beaten to it by the young princess.  

“Think about it this way, brother,” Azula explains. “You’re much safer here. Within the palace walls, servants at your beck and call, away from prying eyes. Surely you see what I mean.”

“I understand,” Zuko looks away from his sister, swallowing a lump in his throat. “And I have no complaints.”

Azulon harrumphs, slightly displeased at being interrupted by the children. 

“Your lessons with Lo and Li will last an hour per day. Longer, if they feel it is necessary.”

When addressed, the sisters smile serenely. They regard the young prince with weathered eyes, their brains pinpointing a dozen weaknesses in his posture, and a face exposing countless thoughts, readable like a book. This simply would not do. 

“Fear not, child,” Lo starts. “You are young.” 

“A beautiful blossom, yet to bloom,” Li continues. 

“But we shall help you to,” they say in tandem.

When Zuko leaves the throne room, he feels betrayed. 

A life imprisoned behind the palace walls, until he turned sixteen and got married off. This wasn’t what Azula said would happen. He thought things would be different. He’s had to bite his tongue, so as not to be defiant. There were so many things he could have said, so many other ways this could be done, and better.

But Zuko knows his place. And keeps silent.

“He didn’t look so hot,” Lu Ten remarks as they depart from the stifling throne room, the younger already in search of her omega brother.

“Oh, ye of little faith,” Azula chides. “You underestimate him, Lu Ten. Zuko’s much stronger than you think.” 

“I know, I know. But he's also sensitive. And the whole arranged marriage thing?” Lu Ten makes a disgusted face. “Gross.” 

It occurs then to Azula, to make a quick detour. 

She separates from her cousin at the next pavilion and ignores his worried look as she walks away. 

Later, Azula finds her brother brooding in the gardens. 

Oh, Zuzu. So predictable. 

He’s sitting on the wet grass, without a care for his robes as they’re dirtied by muck from the bank. He even lets the tips of his expensive shoes get nibbled on by the turtleducklings who’ve bravely left the safety of their pond.

They squawk in alarm when she approaches, of course, returning to their mother who ushers them away with urgent pecks.

“What’s the matter, Zuzu?” Azula smiles. “Bored already?” 

Zuko looks up, surprised.

“No, not really. Just thinking.”

Azula huffs. “Well, stop. Before you hurt yourself.”

Zuko lunges for her feet, playfully attempting to trip her. Azula sidesteps his advances easily with a laugh, lowering herself into a crouch and flinging her arms around his shoulders from behind.

She feels her brother’s hands close around her own, returning to his contemplative silence as he stares blankly at what used to be Mother’s favourite place in their expansive home.

“I’m worried, Lala,” he whispers. “Despite everything you’ve done, it feels like nothing’s changed at all.”

“You’re being allowed to firebend,” she shrugs. “That counts for something, doesn’t it? And don’t worry. I don’t plan on staying in the capital doing nothing until the war is won. When I leave to fight, you’ll be coming with me.”

“Grandfather would never allow it,” Zuko crosses his arms. “You heard what he said.”

“He says a lot of things, but that’s because he has to,” Azula explains patiently. “We’re not peasants, Zuzu. Even the great Fire Lord himself isn't able to overturn centuries of tradition and prejudice overnight. But things will work in our favour, given time.” 

Her brother turns to look at her, still fearful.

“What if I have to marry some nasty old guy?” 

“You can’t possibly think I’d let that happen,” Azula pouts. “Have some faith in me, will you? Dum-dum.” 

Zuko nods but still looks unsure. She tries not to let this bother her. It was far too early for her short-sighted brother to see the bigger picture. She recalls a saying Grandfather had taught her, one out of many, after being kept close to his side all these years (she definitely saw who Uncle had gotten his lengthy anecdotes from).

Like a predator who stalks its elusive prey in the forest, you must conceal your hunger, and wait for the perfect opportunity to strike. 

“You’re so depressing,” she complains, righting herself. “C’mon, Zuzu. There are some people I’d like you to meet.”

Ty Lee’s hands fly to her face in excitement when she finally catches sight of Azula’s famous older brother. 

“He’s soooo pretty! Just like you, Azula!” She gushes, cartwheeling towards them and dropping into a low bow at Zuko’s feet. He sputters, asking her to rise. 

“Thank you… and who might you be?” Zuko asks curiously. 

“I’m Ty Lee! And this is Mai,” she points to her friend, porcelain cheeks looking suspiciously pink as she honours the prince with a bow of her own. “We’re Princess Azula’s playmates! And combatants in training!” 

“Oh! Well, it’s great to finally meet you two,” he smiles at them, and Ty Lee giggles when she spots Mai looking away shyly, fiddling with her thumbs under her long sleeves. “Azula’s mentioned you in her letters. Any friend of my sister is a friend of mine.”

“Friends? Well, I wouldn’t go that far,” Azula starts but Ty Lee is quicker, enveloping the princess in a crushing hug. 

“… Fine. Friends. Whatever.”

Mai shakes her head, an amused smile on her face. Zuko turns to her, wearing a similar expression.

“Don’t mind my sister. She gets embarrassed about showing affection,” Zuko leans in to whisper conspiratorially in Mai’s ear, much to his sister’s indignation. Nobody but Ty Lee notices Mai going even redder at the close proximity she shares with the prince.

“What was that?” Azula hums, eyes glinting.

“Nothing,” Zuko grins. “Just talking about the weather. It’s a beautiful day, isn’t it?”

“Right. The weather,” Azula rolls her eyes, pushing Ty Lee away and straightening out her robes.

“Anyway. I’m inviting you both to dinner tonight, in celebration of my brother’s return.”

Ty Lee clasps her hands together. “That sounds wonderful! We’d love to come!”

“I have to tell my parents,” Mai says.

“No need. I’ve already sent someone to inform them. We’ll be dining at one of the best restaurants in town. I’ve requested their most expensive menu, so let's hope they don't disappoint."

Zuko finds it endearing, the amount of thought Azula has put into this evening. She obviously wanted tonight to go well, perhaps this dinner was a way for Zuko, Mai and Ty Lee to get better acquainted. They would all be spending a lot of time with each other.

(He briefly wonders if this was the workings of her inner alpha, already forming her pack, at only eight summers old.)

“Sounds great,” Zuko readily agrees.

“Sure.”

“Yay!”

The four of them stare at each other for a pause, in the middle of the barren, concrete yard. Zuko realises with mild exasperation that this is one of the many training grounds within the palace. He rolls his eyes. Ty Lee and Mai don’t look at all surprised, probably already used to Azula’s ways. (He just wishes he had time to get his swords first.)

The princess smirks.

“Time to work up an appetite.”

Two hours later, after getting thoroughly, repeatedly beaten, Zuko drags himself towards his quarters for a bath, his muscles already screaming with pain. The girls trail after him, looking slightly ruffled but no worse for wear.

“You’re all crazy,” he grumbles sourly. “Girls are crazy!”

“Don’t be so dramatic, Zuzu,” Azula chides. “You’ll catch up.”

“Yeah! Your close-ranged attacks could use some work, but you’re still really fast,” Ty Lee chirps honestly. “Want to learn some chi-blocking techniques? And I’m sure Mai would love to teach you dagger-throwing!”

“Hard pass,” Zuko grunts. “The fight wasn’t fair, anyway. You all ganged up on me. How about a rematch, but with swords—”

“There’s no need for that. He’ll be resuming training tomorrow, with Master Kunyo,” Azula speaks louder, over him. “A little late, but better late than never, I suppose.”

“Ooh! I bet you’ll be an amazing bender, Zuko,” her casual address despite only knowing him for a few hours does bug him a little, but Azula doesn’t seem to mind, so he supposes he'll get used to it. “And you’re right, Azula! I guess firebenders don’t really need weapons, huh?”

Zuko bites his lip and speeds up, feeling his eyes prickle with heat. Ty Lee’s words had not been malicious, but they still hurt. He had trained so hard under Master Piandao. And he was proud of what he’d learnt. Nobody in his family, with the exception of Lu Ten, and perhaps Uncle Iroh (but the old dragon would have indulged Zuko no matter what he'd learnt), seemed to have any real interest in appreciating his talents with the blade. 

I’ll show them, he thinks furiously as he splits from the trio to enter his own chambers.

Lu Ten is sick of this drivel.

He’s been listening to the man blabber on for the past twenty minutes about the benefits of accepting the proposal. The proposal, being an arranged marriage between Lu Ten and his daughter—the omega girl sitting on his left.

As the governor of Kirachu, Hizen and his daughter, Syuri, were no doubt suitable additions to the Fire National Royal Family should Lu Ten accept the daughter as his own. Unfortunately for them, the alpha prince had absolutely no interest in being tied down in a loveless marriage at the age of sixteen. So he makes his opinion known.

“But—Your Highness!” Hizen leaps to his feet, looking outraged. “Governess Sanako herself has assured me that this match would be optimal for both sides!”

“That’s her opinion,” Lu Ten replies coldly, dropping his polite countenance. “Do not forget that I am the prince, Hizen, and the governess serves me,” He was going to have words with the old hag tomorrow, about the way these marriage meetings—otherwise known as omiai—were being planned behind his back…

“My daughter is the most beautiful omega in all of Kirachu! Perhaps even the Fire Nation! Surely you cannot fail to see her appeal? I assure you—she is docile and obedient, unlike those peasants who believe themselves above their station.”

Syuri turns red in embarrassment when her father grips her shoulders to punctuate his conceited words. She truly was a beautiful girl. Flawless complexion, pretty face and seductive curves. Lu Ten would have ogled her in passing had he seen her on the street, but right now, he just felt sorry for her.

And offended, at the governor’s not-so-subtle jibe aimed at the new equality movement. Had the fool forgotten Azula was his cousin? That it was her campaign he spoke so distastefully of?

Lu Ten thinks of Zuko being put in Syuri’s position years from now. The thought makes him sick. When Dad finally took the throne, he would petition for arranged marriages to be outlawed. 

“She is a beautiful girl, just not the one I’m looking for,” the prince rises to his feet. “Now. If you’ll excuse me.”

He leaves the private room, followed closely by his newly-appointed personal guards, Chuji and Shin. The three of them had met in the Fire Nation Royal Academy in their younger years, and Lu Ten had reached out, requesting they serve him. He had actually been inspired by Azula’s formation of an 'elite’ squad of non-bending combatants (as she liked to term her team of dangerous little girls) (but he would eat his own shoes first, rather than admit this).

Both of his friends had happily agreed, leaving behind their noble duties for something far laxer.

“Sanako is going to be pissed,” Shin remarks as they descend the stairs towards the ground floor. “That’s the fifth match you’ve turned down this year, my prince.”

“She can suck it,” Lu Ten shrugs. “The war has not yet been won, and my father continues to do battle in the Earth Kingdom. What kind of prince would I be if I neglected the war for child-rearing?”

He shudders as if to emphasize his point. Children were cute, but irritating most of the time and he absolutely did not have the patience, nor the energy, to deal with them in large doses. And any children he fathered would be sure to be firebenders, so that meant twice the work.

Chuji snickers. “Nobody would think less of you, Lu. Prince Iroh would be ecstatic if you produced some grandbabies.”

“Yeah, he'd be thrilled for sure,” Lu Ten shakes his head fondly. “All in good time, gents.”

He is about to suggest they retire to the palace for drinks and gossip—when he hears a familiar screech coming from the restaurant’s outdoor patio.

“Azula! Quit it!”

Zuko pushes his sister’s hands furiously away from his face as she tries to swipe the lipstick on him. Azula had bought it prior to arriving at the restaurant, from an obnoxiously-dressed merchant selling jewellery and cosmetics, all because Ty Lee had said the colour matched her ‘aura’. (Whatever that meant.) 

First of all, his sister was far too young to be wearing lipstick.

And second of all, if the lipstick was for her, why was she trying to put it on him?

“Stop delaying the inevitable,” she purrs, mischief encouraged by Ty Lee and Mai’s delighted giggles in the background. “I want to see if this shade matches my complexion.”

“Then put it on yourself,” Zuko leans back in his chair to avoid her reach, hooking his ankles around the table legs so he doesn’t fall.

“We have the same complexion, dum-dum. And what if I end up looking like a clown? See, if I try it on you first, it might spare me the potential embarrassment.”

Zuko loved his sister, but Spirits, she could be so mean.

He’s ready to make a run for it when someone interrupts by clearing their throat loudly in the doorway.

“You threw a dinner party and didn’t think to invite me?” Lu Ten pouts, walking up to the table and placing his hands on the back of Zuko’s chair, now wobbling dangerously on two legs. “I’m hurt, Lala, I really am.” 

The eldest prince rights it, lowering Zuko back to safety.

Azula’s playful nature all but vanishes, replaced by an irritated expression. 

“What are you doing here, cousin,” she spits and glares daggers at the staff who hurry to carry chairs for the unwelcome intruders, setting places for them at the table.

“Just a casual guy’s night out,” he lies, sitting down. His guards remain standing behind him. “Nothing you kids would be interested in.”

Azula frowns, turning to one of the men. He visibly swallows under her attention, running his hand through his mess of brown hair.

Zuko remembers seeing his cousin's companions in passing once, a couple of weeks ago in Shu Jing. He thinks the taller's name is Shin? His hair was half-done in a topknot, the rest hanging loose, almost brushing his shoulders. The other one’s name, he could not remember. Though that impressive beard he sported certainly was memorable. 

“There was an omiai,” Shin blurts out, wincing at the betrayed look Lu Ten sends his way.  

“How interesting,” Azula’s tone is gleeful as she leans forward, chin resting on one hand. “Are you finally preparing to start a family, cousin? A nice, quaint house on Ember Island sounds perfect for rearing children.”

“Nope! I declined,” Lu Ten crosses his arms. “Too bad, Lala. You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

Zuko sighs as the alphas start their aggressive posturing, no doubt ready for another childish argument. Their scents permeate the air, assaulting his nostrils. Lu Ten’s normally soothing scent of pine leaves all but disappears, turning bitter in warning. Azula’s smoky one of ash has turned into that of a burning inferno's. 

Really. 

He expected more from Lu Ten. Picking fights with children (even if said child was Azula). His sister’s constant goading was similarly tiresome.

It's been nearly three years, of them being at each other's throats. The omega doesn't understand. Why couldn’t they just get along?

Then their hands come to snatch an arm each, fingers digging into Zuko's robes possessively. Azula's grip is less strong than Lu Ten's, but her nails are long and sharp and painful.

Zuko snaps. 

“Enough of this! I’m going home,” Zuko announces over their snarls, even though their meal had not yet been served. His scent is amplified by his own anger, waves of displeasure assaulting Lu Ten and Azula’s noses in turn.

“Mai and Ty Lee, you’re welcome to come with me," Zuko offers. 

Ty Lee looks torn, looking back and forth anxiously between Zuko and Azula. Mai just sighs, turning to the princess.

“I’ll keep an eye on him. Ty Lee, you stay here with Azula.”

“But—”

“Fine,” Azula narrows her eyes at her brother, her chest clenching with hurt and betrayal. Her lip wobbles, but she forces her face into one of cool dispassion, just like Grandfather had taught her to. The alpha's pride does not allow her to apologise or ask him to stay.

“Make sure he goes straight home. Do not let him out of your sight.”

“Yes, Azula,” Mai bows to Azula and Lu Ten, then hurries to follow Zuko as he storms off.

Lu Ten rolls his eyes when Azula directs her fury towards him. He’s prepared to unleash a verbal onslaught of his own when he notices Ty Lee giggling into her hands.

“What’s so funny?” He demands to know.

Ty Lee giggles again. “They would be so cute together,” she points to the direction where Mai and Zuko had left.

Azula and Lu Ten narrow their eyes. Well, well.

Zuko feels a little awkward when the petite girl acts like a bodyguard, checking the hallways for intruders and producing a dagger out of her sleeve when they’re startled by an innocent maid. (He'll apologise to her in the morning.)

“How old are you?” He asks her curiously.

“Eleven.”

“What—you’re older than me?!”

“Yes,” she turns, regarding him with an unimpressed stare. “Why are you surprised?”

“I thought you and Ty Lee were Azula’s age,” Zuko admits, sheepish at his mistake.

“Ty Lee is. I’m not.”

“Oh. Okay.”

The duo continues their walk to Zuko’s quarters in silence. He nods his head in thanks as Mai opens the door to his room.

“Well, this is me. Thanks, Mai,” he turns and offers her a shy smile.

The normally stoic girl offers him one in return. It makes his heart skip a beat. She was really pretty when she smiled. Zuko wonders why Mai doesn't do it more often. She was, oddly enough, the emotional opposite of the bubbly Ty Lee. Azula had definitely picked some great, but unusual friends. 

“You’re welcome. Goodnight, Prince Zuko,” she says, and shuts the door behind her.

Zuko flops ungracefully on his bed, eyelids fluttering shut.

Exhausted by the events of today, he is quickly consumed by sleep.

(The prince dreams of his Father's brilliant, golden eyes, and his Mother's tinkling laugh.)

Chapter Text

Following the events on that disastrous evening, Azula stops speaking to him.

Zuko does not seek her out.

She had been in the wrong, had she not? She and Lu Ten had been acting like fools. And he would not stand for any more of their childish bickering.

He was not a toy for their amusement. His feelings mattered too.

With a stiff-upper-lip, Zuko makes the resolution to remain steadfast. And wait for Azula to approach him first. Surely his sister, as brilliant as she was, would realise the error of her ways.

He’s forced into layers of thick, heavy robes that restrict his moment. They’re a deep red, accented with gold embroidery on the sleeves and the tips of his extra-pointy shoes. A sash lies over his waist and most of his lower ribs. This holds his back ramrod straight.

Zuko remembers the robe his Mother had worn; how similar it had been to this. He does not understand how she could have possibly endured throughout the boggy, summer heat. He had nearly passed out one time, white dots appearing in his vision and his head spinning dangerously.

Perhaps, it had been easier on her. For she had not possessed the inner fire as he did. Firebenders were naturally warmer and regulated their temperature through breathing.

The long sleeves trailing down the sides of his slim frame are bindings, in a way. They make it difficult to pick things off the floor; even more so to assume any fighting stance, or bend. Was this how royal omegas were kept in line? By making sure they were so uncomfortable, all they wanted to do was sit still?

Now, more than ever, Zuko misses the freedom of Shu Jing. 

The lessons begin. And to nobody’s surprise, Zuko’s off to a rocky start.

Master Kunyo is a strict man. He accepts nothing less than perfection, something Zuko has always been unable to give. But he tries. He practices until his muscles scream. Until his legs and arms are trembling from the exertion.

“Your breathing is out of control. A hundred hot squats and fire fists, Prince Zuko. Only then shall you be allowed to eat,” his teacher declares. And Zuko obeys.

The rest of his classes are similarly frustrating, taking a toll on his brain rather than his body. He is taught history, mathematics, literature and politics. The teachers douse him with knowledge, as though he is a sponge. But he is not. And he struggles, every day, to understand the new theories they present, new questions and workings and politically correct answers.

It occurs to him that these might have been people handpicked by the Fire Lord, probably the very same individuals who had taught Azula.

The Royal Family accepted no less than superb talent and perfection.

Zuko knows that his sister, Azula, had even greater expectations for him.

For the first time in his life, he feels resentment against her swelling in his chest, bubbling to the surface like magma from active volcanic pools. He lashes out at his tutors, earning disapproving looks and a stern warning from Master Kunyo, who had been fetched to put out the fires Zuko had started in the classroom.

Staring blankly at the damage he’s caused, Zuko is reminded of the wreckage Azula leaves behind in her fury. He wonders if this was her plan, all along.

Zuko wonders how many days have passed since Azula had elected to stop acknowledging his existence. Seeing her around the courtyards only to be ignored hurt him deeply. Ty Lee had sent him a little wave, which sparked a tiny bit of hope in his chest. It was promptly quashed when the acrobat was dragged away, Mai throwing him a sympathetic glance over her shoulder.

His sister, of course, does not bother looking back.

Lu Ten is nowhere to be seen. Not a word, no letters, asking about his day or how the new developments were coming alone.

Maybe he’s been forgotten.

His lessons with Lo and Li mark the end of another exhausting day.

Zuko hates those the most. Out of all the classes he had to attend, this was the only time of day he felt suffocated to the point as though he could not breathe. Even a hundred hot squats were preferable to reciting the excruciatingly long list of omega duties. On repeat. And if he got one word wrong, they would make him start over.

“An omega must be calm. Patient and obedient, towards their alpha,” he drones on, eyelids drooping. “An omega does not speak unless spoken to, in the presence of formal company.”

(He is reminded painfully of how... shamefully he had reacted to Azula and Lu Ten during the dinner that night.)

“Very good, Zuko,” Li says. “Now repeat verse three.”

“This time, without looking,” Lo says, snatching the scroll away from his fingers.

So he does.

The next week passes the same way, and then the next, and the next. Zuko’s life becomes dull and dreary. Nothing but a human doll, moving when told, eating when told, breathing when told… endlessly in repetition.

He becomes an empty vessel.

His flames dull from his lack of feeling, and Master Kunyo berates him for it. He is punished with hot-squats and horse stances nonstop for an hour.

One afternoon, Azula passes by, dressed in her best robes and accompanied by an entourage of servants rushing to dress her in military regalia. She was undoubtedly on her way to a war meeting. Important business, for any royal.

(The sight makes Zuko feel even more useless than he already does.)

She does not even glance in his direction.

And finally, after weeks of neglect and being subjected to the silent treatment by everyone but the servants around him, Zuko cracks.

He feels tears welling in his eyes. He is lonely, and he is tired. How long was she going to stay mad? Surely she knew that she and Lu Ten were being childish.

It wasn’t his fault they were being stupid.

(An Omega is Obedient.)

His lip wobbles, and so do his legs. He nearly falls on his behind. Master Kunyo hollers at him to maintain his stance, threatening to make him start from the beginning.

(An Omega is Submissive.)

Zuko brushes the dirt off his thighs, bowing his head as the reality sinks in. He feels Master Kunyo placing a hand upon the back of his neck.

A primal instinct takes over him.

Zuko keens at the back of his throat. His will, broken. His mind, fatigued. Master Kunyo lets go of his person like his hand had been burnt. The prince raises his chin and sees Azula, finally sparing him a look beyond the courtyard, a bored look on her face as she regards his crumpled figure.

He knows what he has to do.

Azula looks up from her books, motioning for her teacher to stop talking. Her brother stands in the doorway to the classroom, looking ashen. There are bags under his eyes and his hair is… unsightly, strands falling from his loose topknot. (It is apparent to her, that his servants required punishment.)

The siblings regard each other in cold silence. Until Zuko, predictably, cracks first.  

“I’m sorry, Lala,” Zuko manages to croak. “I was in the wrong.”

She feels satisfaction blooming in her chest at his surrender, calmly beckoning for Zuko to join her, ignoring the displeased frown Madame Arame fixes on her brother. He comes to stand awkwardly on her left, shuffling his feet in a way that is most unbecoming for a person of his status.

“Took you long enough,” she says. Her hand slips into his, giving it a gentle squeeze. At the alpha’s approval, he brightens immediately, his dour scent changing to a more pleasant, familiar one of fire-lilies.

Azula would admit this to nobody but herself—she had hated to do this to him, and it had been agonizing to see Zuzu mopey and upset all this time… but it had been necessary. Her brother had always been slow (this was her putting it kindly), so of course, it had taken him a full month to realise the wrongness of his actions.

It seemed to have worked, though. After this experience, Azula was confident that Zuko would never humiliate her in such a fashion, ever again. He would soon be ready to begin accompanying her to more public functions.

“Come, sit down. You could stand to learn something from the Madame,” she declares, patting the cushion next to hers.

He settles onto it just as he is told. Zuko’s head is leaning slightly to her person, symbolising just how much he needed her presence. A sign of weakness (oh, silly Zuzu), but since they were in private, she supposes this is fine for now.

“Continue, Arame.”

“Of course, Princess Azula,” Arame bows, immediately picking up where she’d left off. “As I was saying, Fire Lord Sozin won the Battle of Han Tui with wit, and with patience. As his forces were outnumbered by his enemies, he strategically calculated his advantages instead of using a direct approach.”

Azula nods approvingly as Zuko straightens his back to listen.

War tactics were definitely not part of Zuko’s curriculum, and Grandfather would be displeased if he found out her brother had been allowed into this lesson. Zuko wasn’t supposed to be taught about military strategy until his omega etiquette lessons were complete.

This was knowledge reserved for nobility only. Alpha and Beta nobles, of course. Even though the Gender Equality Act had passed, Azula knew there would be pushback. There had been rumours of riots in the countryside where the less-educated peasants lived. Something had to be done about it eventually, but for now, Azula would limit her attention to the people within Caldera. Until Zuko was properly prepared to protect himself in battle and in the Royal Court, she would not divert her energies anywhere else.

(She makes a mental note to have special words with Madame Arame after the lesson, and all the guards stationed nearby.)

It simply wouldn’t do if Zuko’s education was compromised by nosy busy-bodies.

Chapter Text

His trip had been lengthy. Nearly two months of information gathering, quelling rebellions seeding in the outskirts of smaller villages and settlements. 

The uprising in Gaipan had been bad. The settlers there faced a dangerous threat from the forests surrounding it. Anyone who tried to deliver suppliers to and fro the village had been attacked in the last two weeks. Some were injured. A handful had been killed. The attacks were sporadic and almost amateurish, in a way. It had probably been the work of disgruntled ex-villagers who had been driven out when the Fire Nation came to seize Gaipan. 

No matter. Lu Ten had not been too worried about these incidents. After all, he had been relaying the Fire Lord’s orders to the encampments guarding these areas. 

Permission to kill all rebels, on sight. 

He knew those upstarts would not survive for much longer. 

Things were different when Lu Ten finally returned home. 

Expecting a warm welcome, he was surprised when he was met only with cold, curt nods from both his cousins. Even Grandfather seemed jovial by comparison.

It greatly bothered him, the way Zuko shied away from his attempt to hug. Something which had never happened in the entirety of their lives. Very odd. Zuko had always been receptive to physical affection. What had changed? His cousin was also quieter and more demure during mealtimes. He only spoke when spoken to. Back ramrod straight, looking ahead with a dead look in his eyes. 

Azula had something to do with this. There was no doubt about it. Lu Ten did not have any proof to accuse her of this, but he just… knew. He could read the triumphant gaze she threw his way when Zuko refused his invitations to spend time in private together. 

The secretive and complexing change in behaviour towards him drove Lu Ten ballistic. He was an Alpha. One that had grown used to physical interaction (Zuko) and loud verbal confrontation (Azula) with his family. The sudden coldness he received from them was agonising. 

He reaches a boiling point, one night when Zuko ducks his gaze to avoid looking at him as they pass in the hallway. 

Lu Ten headed straight for the nearest garden, struggling to keep his breathing under control. His flames are wild and ferocious as he throws them skyward, to prevent any damage to the garden. He was not Azula. He would not destroy palace property on the whims of a tantrum. 

Nevertheless, something had to be done. 

Lu Ten corners Zuko one night on the way to his chambers. Azula had been summoned to Grandfather’s office right after dinner, which made this an optimal time to speak to his cousin uninterrupted. 

“Fancy a walk, Zuzu?” 

He holds back a snort at the way Zuko jumps. Instead, Lu Ten hooks an arm around the shorter’s shoulder (noticing how his little cousin suddenly seemed not so little anymore), leading them to the gardens for an amicable chat. 

“Uh, what’s… up? Cousin Lu Ten,” Zuko lowers his head when Lu Ten tries to look him in the eye again. It frustrated him to no end, and now that they were alone, Lu Ten decided to let it show. 

“Oh for Agni’s sake!” He lodges a thumb underneath Zuko’s chin, forcing him to make eye-contact. He feels the violent shiver that wracks Zuko’s body. “Look me in the eye when I’m talking to you.”

Zuko visibly gulps. “Sorry. I just…”

“Just what? I’m dying to know,” Lu Ten gives Zuko a firm shake. “You’ve been acting weird ever since I got back from my trip. What happened?”

Zuko shakes his head. He avoids Lu Ten’s eyes again, staring off towards an unfocused point in the distance. “Nothing.”

Lu Ten emits a growl from the back of his throat in frustration. 

“Was it something Azula said? Did she put you up to this?”

“N-No, she didn’t…”

“You’ve changed, Zuko. But you’re still a terrible liar,” Lu Ten crosses his arms, eyes scrutinising every part of his cousin for telltale signs of abuse. Perhaps this was a cruel game Azula wanted to play. By using Zuko as bait. He certainly wouldn’t put it past her. 

“I’m sorry,” and to his horror, Lu Ten saw Zuko’s lower lip wobble, an early indicator that he was about to cry. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“Look, Zuko…” Lu Ten sighed, taking a couple of steps back and covering his face with his hands. “I just want to help you. Tell me what’s wrong.”

“I… I don’t…” Zuko mumbles. Lu Ten places a hand atop his cousin’s head, ruffling his hair and giving him an encouraging look to continue. “I just want to be good. It’s… hard. But I’m trying to, for Azula and you.”

“Good?” Lu Ten baulks, eyes going wide. Something heavy settles in his gut. “What did she do.” 

It wasn’t a question. Lu Ten’s jaw clenches in anger as he begins to understand the reason behind Zuko’s change in demeanour. What had probably transpired in the months he had been away. 

“Azula only does what’s best for me,” Zuko shakes his head, shoulders visibly trembling. 

“... You’re touch-starved. And your pupils are blown,” Lu Ten notes, arms opening wide for his cousin. “Has she been using pheromones on you?”

The word causes a shocked gasp to escape from Zuko’s mouth. Pheromones were something only parents used on children to soothe them, or by Alphas, to quell disobedient Omegas. The very idea of Azula violating Zuko’s trust in such a way without his permission was ludicrous. To Zuko. But not to Lu Ten, who easily saw the darker side to his youngest cousin. 

“Tell me, Zuko. C’mon. You can trust me.”

And just like that, the sombre story of how Azula had treated him since Lu Ten had left spilt from his lips. The way she had ignored him for nearly a month on the justification that he had treated her with disrespect. The private lessons she had forced him to sit through, while he was supposed to be on break. Her refusal to allow him any physical gestures of affection until she was satisfied with his progress. Hearing Zuko’s tale made Lu Ten sick to his stomach. 

Omegas were not supposed to be treated this way. They were the most sensitive of the three groups when it came to pheromones. An Alpha had the power to alter an omega’s mood, their emotions, should they choose to. This normally only happened in the throes of heat, or in dangerous situations. 

They also needed physical affection from their pack members. Whether it was a light pat on the arm or a tight hug, these served as constant reminders that they were cared for, and to imprint upon an Omega the scent of their pack. It was another reason why omegas were so discriminated in their society, which favoured reservation and docileness. The process of being independent of physical affection was not impossible, but if the rumours were true, it was an incredibly painful and mentally damaging experience. 

By denying this need to Zuko, who had been constantly showered with physical affection (everything from hugs to headlocks) since his parents had died...

It must have been agonising. 

“Come here.” 

Lu Ten holds his arms open. And Zuko gives in. 

With a shaky breath, he awkwardly moves forward and places his head on Lu Ten’s chest plate. Zuko keeps his hands firmly pressed to his sides, even though the older Prince can see how much they are shaking. 

And so he wraps his arms around his cousin’s shoulders, giving Zuko the tightest and most affectionate hug he can muster. The effect it has on the younger is obvious. Zuko whines as he finally moves his arms to grab at Lu Ten’s back, fingers clenching his thick robes. 

Rubbing Zuko’s back soothingly, Lu Ten lowers his head and places his chin atop Zuko’s messy hair. The little squirt was going to shoot upwards like a bamboo root soon, he just knew it. So he would enjoy being able to do this while he could. 

“I’ll always be here for you, Zuko. You don’t have to be good or whatever nonsense it is Azula tells you. Just be yourself.”

Zuko chuckles wetly into Lu Ten’s chest, remembering his Mother’s final words to him. It startled him, how he had almost forgotten. 

He mouths the words to himself as he lets go of his final reservations, sick of playing a role he was clearly not born to do. Lets Lu Ten’s calming scent wash over him like cooling spring water in the burning heat. 

Never forget who you are.

Chapter Text

The Royal Family existed as the pinnacle of perfection for the Fire Nation. A culture that emphasized heavily on honouring your family name meant that mistakes were ruthlessly frowned upon by the court. 

Despite the power they held and the luxuries that surrounded them, power came at a price. They were under great scrutiny at all times, by their subordinates, and even their underlings. An Alpha of royal blood had occupied the throne for hundreds of years, since the formation of their great country. He was revered and uplifted in the eyes of his people as Agni’s chosen, meant to lead the Nation to greatness. 

One day, the seat would become Iroh’s. And then, Lu Ten’s. 

Azula only wishes that she had been born the eldest. 

She would make a much better Fire Lord than irritating, happy-go-lucky Lu Ten who interfered with Zuko’s upbringing. 

Good things come, to those who wait. It was a mantra she repeated to herself when consumed with envy over the authority Lu Ten held. Constantly. The fondness she held for him in her younger years had faded away, leaving behind a bubbling hatred for her taller, more confident, stronger cousin. 

It certainly did not help that Zuko was enamoured with Lu Ten’s capability as a leader and his natural charisma. Her brother followed him around whenever he was in the palace, basking in the attention Lu Ten would shower upon him, bringing him souvenirs from his travels and regaling him with nightly stories of old Fire Nation legends. 

Azula was baffled by this overindulgence. She could tell Grandfather Azulon was none too pleased about Zuko being spoiled like this, but perhaps, in lieu of his position as an omega, this was somewhat acceptable. Nobody was expecting greatness from Zuko. He knew nothing of the pressure that sat on Azula’s shoulders. 

Her relationship with Zuko had become strained since Lu Ten had first returned to the palace. There was a strange new hesitance Zuko displayed around her, flinching when she grabbed his arm and cautiously keeping his eyes trained on her every move. Like he was looking for something. She did not know what. 

In fact, it was almost like Zuko was afraid. Of her. 

And that thought festered and grew in her mind, poisoning the relationship she had with her brother. With each passing week, she and Zuko grew more distant, to the point where they no longer sought each other out for leisure. Mai and Ty Lee could tell how badly she was affected by this and tried to comfort her in vain. She and Zuko were siblings, after all, with much closer blood ties than that of a cousin’s. 

Considering all they had been through, with the loss of their parents and the promise Zuko had made to stay by her side, to become strong so they could win the war; his aversion to her presence and his indulgence in Lu Ten’s affections is akin to agonising betrayal. But still. She would not approach. She would not fold. 

Two months go by, with Zuko keeping their interactions to a minimum. Casual conversations over breakfast and dinner, docile and quiet by her side at official functions. Azula does not know what to make of this obedience. 

On one hand, she had got what she wanted. For Zuko to behave as an embodiment of perfection in the eyes of the public. To gain the respect and admiration of those beneath them, not just for the family but also Zuko himself. It was his way, as an omega, of gaining his honour. 

But Zuko kept at the act, even when it was just them. In private. 

No longer did they laugh over stupid plans the arrogant generals proposed, no longer did they spend time exploring the palace grounds, trying to uncover secret passages and rooms. Zuko never visited her in her quarters and declined every invitation she extended to spend time with Mai and Ty Lee. 

Her brother was slipping away from her, and there was nothing she could do to stop it. Lu Ten watched her like a hawk, and she knew he had been furious when he returned from that pointless diplomatic trip, that he had words with Grandfather about the unnecessary cruelty towards their one and only omega Prince. Azulon had told her when she finally mustered the nerve to ask. 

This proved her suspicions correct. Lu Ten hated her for what she tried to do to Zuko. He wanted Zuko to be coddled, spoiled, like a land-rich noble with no real obligations, as though Zuko could afford to be happy and carefree. Azula knew this was going to bite Zuko when the time came for him to be married off. 

But in spite of this knowledge, she bites her lip and refrains from interfering, hoping Zuko’s attitude towards her would change. That he would remember that she was his sister, and not Lu Ten, who was only a cousin, not a brother. Zuko knew where his loyalties lay. Disregarding the way Zuko looked up foolishly to their older cousin, Azula knew her brother was still in there, somewhere. He simply needed some space. 

On Azula’s ninth birthday, Ba Sing Se falls. 

The Fire Nation rejoices and the streets are filled with cheers and celebration. The festivities last a full week, and Grandfather Azulon plans a banquet for Iroh’s return. The honoured heir to the throne, the next Fire Lord who had seized the impenetrable city. 

The Royal Family was truly, a pinnacle of perfection all should strive for, but should never hope to reach. 

Azula watches as Lu Ten and Zuko cry joyfully at Iroh, as his ship becomes visible over the horizon. The top-class battleship shadows a dozen smaller ships surrounding it, proud soldiers standing atop the deck and saluting to their countrymen as they are welcomed home. The people scream and cheer so loudly that Azula covers her ears, displeased with the commotion. 

If she had been the one sent to Ba Sing Se, Azula is certain she would have seized the city in a quicker, more efficient way. Brute force was not the only way to achieve victory.

Wrinkling her nose at the overly emotional display put on by Lu Ten, Zuko and Iroh, Azula turns towards Grandfather who remains seated in his palanquin. At least there was someone in the family who still remembered their place. Who refrained from such embarrassing behaviour. 

She tries not to drop her jaw in shock when she finally notices the happy tears falling from Grandfather Azulon’s eyes, as he gazes at his only son. 

A shiver runs down her spine. She suddenly feels a wave of loneliness wash over her, contradicting the happy commotion and noises that spans for miles. Perhaps, she truly was alone in committing to her role after all. 

Azula learns to avoid Iroh. 

Her pushy uncle had insisted numerous times that she joined them for tea and stories of the war. She agreed to his invitation one time, and never again. While she certainly possessed a curiosity for vivid descriptions of glory and battle, Azula quickly finds out that Iroh has a penchant for keeping his tales violence-free, anecdote-riddled and boring. 

When he begins to explain to her the finer points of Earth Kingdom customs and the characteristics of their bending, she gets up and leaves. 

She does not need to know about Earth Kingdom culture. They had fallen. Their armies, large and intimidatingly vast as they had been, had lost the battle. And they would soon learn a superior way of living. Their way. 

Azula purses her lips in distaste when Zuko requests for her to join him, Iroh and Lu Ten for a trip to Ember Island. Her brother had been far too complacent about his training and lessons, as of late. His forms were perfect, but he lacked power. 

“Perhaps you should think about improving your bending, instead of frolicking away in the sand,” she sneers, unable to help herself. Over a year of pent-up jealousy and frustration taking its toll on her young, but weary heart. “I’m disappointed, Zuzu. I expected so much more from you.” 

Those words absolutely devastated her brother. She can see it in his eyes, the way they go watery with hurt and disbelief. 

Instead of comforting, like she would have had she been younger and more foolish, she walks away. 

Azula hears Lu Ten’s angry voice from behind her, obviously overhearing her curt but damaging words. She raises an eyebrow in his direction when he threatens to fight her. Surely her cousin wasn’t that foolish. An Agni Kai over two spoken sentences. It would provide useless gossip for the masses, tarnishing their family’s reputation with that of pettiness. 

As though they weren’t already under enough scrutiny for allowing omegas to join the war. She huffs. What was left of the war, anyway? The only stronghold that remained was the Northern Water Tribe. And surely, they would not dare attack away from the icy lands where they thrived. The savages would not stand a chance. 

Azula is ten when she learns an important lesson she now holds dear. 

The epiphany strikes painfully, like lightning in her brain, when she overhears Zuko and Lu Ten speaking softly in the hallway. 

“I will come with you,” Zuko says softly, smiling kindly at the man who had stolen her brother’s affections. “Wherever and whenever you need me, I’ll be there.” 

So. Her brother was leaving her. 

She knew where Lu Ten had been assigned. Knew the duration in which he would be away. 

Good things came, to those who wait. Or so she had wrongfully thought. Now, she sees the mistake she had made. Azula wondered why she continued to hear this infernal saying in her head when clearly, waiting did nothing. 

Rewards had to be earned, like a harvest needed to be collected, and she would gain nothing by remaining passive. 

If she wanted things to go her way, she would have to take action. Her brother no longer stood by her side. She had lost him, to Lu Ten’s magnetism, drawing people to him like a magnet. He was not fit to be Fire Lord, not him, nor Iroh. They were too kind, too trusting. The Fire Lord had to rule with an iron fist, they had to be like Grandfather, who commanded the Royal Court with his intimidating presence. 

A ruler had to make their subordinates obey. Through fear. 

Azula is ten when she learns a great truth. 

Trust no one. 

She was well and truly alone.