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At the center of firebending is breath. It touches every bit of Fire Nation culture, when one looks deeply enough; all tragic plays end in death by suffocation, many of the treats that Fire Nation youths enjoy are spicy and cause them to huff and puff in hopes of relieving the bright and delicious pain, even to say someone leaves another breathless is to say they are unbearably attracted to them. Everywhere in the land of flame are allusions to breath.
It is a wonder to Azula, then, that they refer to the center of their being as the heart and not the lungs. Her lungs certainly ache more than her heart does. Her heart is off-centered in her chest, pumping as normal, just as her father taught her to control, but her breath… Her lungs stutter. Her breath catches in her throat. She weakens, like a dainty little flower, at the mere thought of that wicked girl.
Well, perhaps not wicked. Yue doesn’t mean to torture Azula. It isn’t her fault, after all, that she is ethereally beautiful, deceptively strong-willed, and uniquely graceful.
That girl is dressed in essentially rags, the most they can afford in this Earth Kingdom dump that they’ve absconded to, and still, she moves like the moonlight itself. Azula has never thought herself to be very graceful. That particular girlish charm, she had always seen as beneath her—she, after all, was a warrior, and not the wilting flower her mother and uncle had surely preferred her to be. Dolls were good only for practicing strategy, not for playing house.
Azula finds herself playing house now in a much stranger way. She sits at the small, scuffed table that had been left by the previous tenants in the broom closet their stinking landlord calls a living space and watches Yue make tea. Azula has always disliked tea, as the smell and taste reminded her all too often of her self-obsessed uncle and her cold-eyed mother, but Yue drinks medicinal teas almost religiously—and Azula does mean religiously. Yue is a very nervous little bird when it comes to her health.
The moon spirit blessed me, Yue explains. My health is a great gift. I must honor it.
Azula finds it a bit silly, though she refrains from saying so; she trusts Yue’s judgement, even if the girl was intensely sheltered. She is measured and thoughtful, even in the face of things she has no prior knowledge of. That is something that Azula respects greatly. And so, even if she finds herself wrinkling her nose at the bad memories the putrid stench of cheap medicinal herbs boiled in their half-rotten water, she says nothing of it, other than to ask if she might open a window. Not that they have more than the one that leads out into the street.
“Of course, Azula,” Yue says kindly. She’s smiling now in that way that makes Azula’s breath catch in her chest, as if suddenly weighed down by Yue’s own body. That thought, too, leaves Azula breathless. How ridiculous are you, to be so ruined by the sight of a girl’s smile?! You are worse with her than you were with Ty Lee. “Let the boys know I’ve made some cookies too.”
Azula does huff a bit at that. ‘The boys’ refers to the rude little urchins that run around the street, knocking their knobby knees against the dirt paths and cutting their thin elbows against the outside walls of Azula’s home. They scratch themselves up by rough-housing foolishly and then they file in, filling her terrible new home with their sour stench to tell Yue about how much trouble they’ve gotten into lately. And then Yue, because she is a bleeding heart, will feed those pups cookies.
Azula could vomit. From the stench alone, at least.
Still, it gives her an excuse to be away from the smell of tea, and if there is one thing this strange new freedom has allowed her to realize, it is that her mind begins to fail her when memories of her mother are involved, so to avoid pure insanity, she stands and makes way to the door, out into the very mild, inconsequential craziness the boys on the street are happy to cause her.
It’s only morning, not even properly noon, but the children are already chasing each other up and down the street like hungry dogs.
Azula scoffs at the sight of them, dirty and hungry but still smiling like fools. A few stop to wave at her, shouting out the fake Earth Kingdom name Yue chose for her. Mo.
‘It was the first thing I could think of,’ Yue had explained, laughing quietly at the betrayed expression Azula had leveled at her. ‘I’m sorry, princess. It’s a pretty name, though, isn’t it?’
Whether it was pretty or not didn’t matter when it was devastatingly simple. She was the crown heir to the Fire Nation! Not since she ran to settle in this backwater with a Water Tribe chief’s daughter, sure, but her blood is still worth its weight in gold regardless. Maybe. Her father thinks rather ill of traitors…
Well, at the very least, the price on her head is likely very large, and she deserves an equally long and important name to match. Not something common like Mo.
The damage was done; all their paperwork has her written as Mo and it’s all that their neighbors will call her. And so Azula had renamed Yue Moshi to forever bind them to that little syllable together. Of course, Yue loved it. Mo and Moshi. Yue had giggled into her hands and said that with names like that, they sounded like an old husband and wife. That, too, had made Azula breathless.
Azula likes playing house with Yue.
“Hello, you rabid little monkeys,” Azula sighs. “Moshi has tasked me with alerting you that there will be cookies for all little children who can behave long enough to eat them.”
The boys stop running to stare at her with owlish eyes. Then they all grin, growing rowdy again. “Really?” one boy asks. “Miss Shi is so nice!”
“Even though she’s gay,” another boy added unhelpfully.
Azula rolls her eyes. “I have told you, Bowen. Moshi and I aren’t married.”
“That’s ‘cuz it’s illegal!” That was Tao, the tallest of the boys. “But that’s okay, Miss Mo, we like you anyways.”
“Yeah, you should get married!” The first boy—a short, chubby-faced boy that Azula doesn’t remember the name of—blurts. “Then you can adopt us and we can have cookies all the time.”
The boys all laugh and, ignoring Azula’s growling, file in through her front door.
“Hey, you greedy brats! Your cookies aren’t finished yet. Go back to trampling each other like baby turtleducks!”
But the boys don’t care. They’re all more than happy to crowd into the small home like a pack of puppies, staring up at Yue with open, expectant smiles. Not that Yue minds. She finds the boys endlessly charming for reasons totally outside of Azula’s understanding. She greets them so lovingly, as graceful and gracious as the moon’s light, and laughs at their jokes and shows equal parts awe and concern at the ridiculous tales they tell. She even goes so far as to meet eyes with Azula and say, “Mo, why don’t you take a bit of our money and buy some more sugar and flour? I think we’ll take the boys out for a tea party picnic today!”
The boys gasp, meeting eyes with one another in shock, and grin up at Yue again.
“Wow, really?”
“That’s so cool! Thank you, Miss Shi!”
“Yes, thank you Mo and Moshi!”
Azula gives Yue a look. Yue grins back, endlessly amused with her suffering. Ugh. So be it. If Yue wills it, Azula will see it done; she has already accepted that this is the cost of such breathlessness as the kind the moon-touched princess instills in her.
So she opens their single window, as was her original plan, and takes the money they have squirrelled away to take to market. The sun feels good on her skin, at least, and living in such narrow, unwanted streets means it’s easy to go unnoticed when she pickpockets a few of the wealthier people walking the streets; tax collectors, rent collectors, people of that nature. Landlords she focuses the brunt of her theft upon. Yue will agree, she’s sure, that to steal from thieves like that is a wholly moral action. At the very least, it won’t leave Azula sleeping on the floor instead of their small, shared bed.
Sugar and flour is expensive, though, and so are the oodles of noodles and whole skinned duck she purchases, because a picnic isn’t a picnic without a proper meal to eat. And the bill grows taller just as Tao has, too lanky and long for his clothes again, so even though she would prefer to order a tailor around like she would at the palace, she picks up some premade children’s clothes that appear in his size that are a handsome shade of green, and it would be in poor manners to leave the other boys out of new clothes, wouldn’t it? And shoes, lest they all cry and whine of burrs stuck between their toes when they go out to where the grass grows wild. The boys will need something to do at the picnic, as well, lest they incessantly annoy Azula the entire time, so a pack of cards and a kite will have to do. And, though Yue has never complained at the taste or quality of the leaves, Azula knows those nasty teas are as stale as they are cheap, so a slightly better collection is worth the price. It’s for her health, after all.
By the time Azula has finished shopping, their money has dwindled significantly, and the bags she’s carrying are far heavier than Yue will be happy to see.
It will be fine. They’ll be able to pay rent and tax with the money Azula gets from her work cleaning at the poetry club, and if they can’t, she can always do a bit more fencework from stealing precious things the rich families deeper in the city won't notice. Yue may dislike the danger of it, but Azula is a knife sharpened to surgical precision. She won’t get caught. And if their grocery money runs thin even after all of that, some of the neighbor ladies like to bring them leftovers from time to time. Azula’s plan is airtight—fool proof.
And Yue would have asked for all these ridiculous treats and toys if they had the money, anyways. Otherwise, Azula wouldn’t have bothered at all. Not for a pack of ridiculous little whelps like the ones crowding her house. At least, she tells herself that. But in the place between her lungs, something shines and preens; she hopes Tao’s new clothes fit him well. He’ll look downright gentlemanly if only his legs weren’t twice the length of his trousers. One could almost mistake him for a prince.
She enters her home, which smells of sweet cookies that have surely already been gobbled up greedily by hungry mouths, and is ready for the argument that will surely come from Yue at the sight of so much unusual plenty. No argument comes; the glare she’s expecting from ‘Miss Shi’ is nowhere to be seen. Instead, Yue greets her with a touched smile, her impossibly blue eyes watery with joy.
The boys stop chewing to stare like shocked puppies at the many bags of things Azula has brought with her.
Azula looks down her nose at the crowd haughtily. “Yes, as you’ve guessed, some of this is for you boys,” she says with a raised eyebrow, glaring at them all one by one. “But you must leave Miss Shi and I to our work in the kitchen as payment. I have a new set of clothes for all of you, shoes included, and a pack of cards that I’ll show you gambling games with for when we can’t go feeding you an elaborate picnic.”
There's a very short moment of intense silence that reminds her of the tiny seconds after lightning is cast—and then suddenly the boys are running at her and wrapping their grubby arms around her. “Thank you, Miss Mo!” They’re all parroting it to her, giving her different levels of formality in their statements of gratitude, making her face burn hotly.
“Yes, well—” She stutters. “You all must have a quick bath before you dress in your new clothes. You stink like carcasses. It will put us fine ladies off our appetite.”
Yue laughs. The sound is high and joyous, like the bells and horns and flutes that used to ring out across the ship on holidays at sea. “I’ll go get that ready for you boys while Mo hands out your new clothes!”
Azula does so, making the boys first line up dutifully. It’s easier that way to give them the clothes she bought for each individual—otherwise they may tear each other apart trying to get to each item first. Although, maybe not… They’re very subdued as she hands out shirts and pants and shoes. She regrets that she didn’t think to get the boys new underclothes, but it would have likely just embarrassed them anyway, and herself along with it. Maybe she can bribe one of the men who live nearby to take the boys to buy underwear. For now, she focuses only on the joyous awe that each boy stares at his new clothes with. Some of them have been wearing the clothes on their backs for years, Azula is sure. A new outfit made of sturdy, comfortable fabric will make their lives a little easier. Yue has invited them inside to sleep at night to keep them out of the rain and off the cold stones, but there isn’t room in their tiny lodgings for setting up proper beds for the boys. There’s five of them in total, after all, and the tiny bed Azula shares with Yue takes up nearly the entire cupboard they call a bedroom.
Tao is the happiest, as she knew he would be. His clothes, only barely rags, are so tight on him that they pinch his joints where the seams are.
“You’ll look far more handsome in that emerald,” Azula tells him smugly, smiling. “It’s the perfect color for you.”
“Will I look handsome in mine, Lady Mo?” Bowen asks, fluttering his eyelashes up at her.
“No,” she deadpans.
The boys laugh at him, but he seems to laugh the hardest. She can’t help but smile too. He’s like a terrible little monkey, always getting into stupid mischief and saying rude things because he finds it amusing. She was much the same as a child, admittedly, though she had a much more fragile pride. Royalty will do that to someone, she supposes. Little Bowen was born into humility—nothing seems to hurt his feelings.
Yue returns through the backdoor with a smile. “I’ve set both the wash tubs up in the garden, along with some soap.” As if the postage stamp square of dirty stone encased in cheap fencing could dare be called a garden. “It’s a warm day out, so you boys won’t mind bathing out there together, will you?”
The boys don’t mind at all. They thank Azula and Yue profusely again, shoving each other through the thin door into the back ‘garden’ with an excitement that makes Azula think of little turtleducks again. Only the boy whose name escapes Azula pokes his head through the door again, cheeks pink, to stutter, “D-Don’t come out here, okay?”
Yue laughs while Azula wrinkles her nose. “Of course, Hoshi. We will respect your wishes for privacy.” Yue bowed her head as if in salute to the small boy.
Hoshi relaxed and grinned. “Thanks, Miss Shi. And thanks again for the clothes, Lady Mo!”
Lady Mo. How exactly did their new nickname for her come and stick in less than a second? Azula will never understand children. Still, Azula nods her head simply, acknowledging his gratitude. Yue tells him he’s more than welcome.
With the door closed, Azula sighs and sets the rest of the bags on the small table.
“You did remember to get flour and sugar, too, didn’t you?” Yue teases.
Azula gives her a heatless glare, blushing. “Yes, Miss Shi, I got those first. I was also kind enough to buy a duck and noodles.” She turns and starts unpacking the food products for Yue to take, as well as the new tea leaves. “We can’t let our litter of wild animals survive off cookies alone, after all.”
Yue’s arms are suddenly around her middle, the other girl’s nose pressed into her back. “Thank you, Azula,” she whispers. “You’ve done something wonderful today.”
Breathless. Air stutters in her throat and sinks like a rock in her chest, just between her lungs, rocked unevenly by her steady heart. She swallows and tries to save her dignity, even as she wants only, bizarrely, to turn in Yue’s arms and kiss her until both of them are gasping. “Aren’t you going to ask me where I got the money?”
And then Yue does something she does very rarely—something that always brings invisible sparks to Azula’s fingers that seem, somehow, to originate from her spine. Yue kisses the side of her neck.
Azula shivers.
“I can guess.” Though in her voice Azula can hear that she doesn’t approve, she’s still smiling. Her breath is warm and familiar on Azula’s throat. “You did it for them. I can forgive that.”
“But not when I do it for you?” Azula shoots back. She feels frozen. If she moves, Yue might too. Her kiss, her touch, might disappear.
Yue hums thoughtfully. “I guess I could stand to be more grateful, too.” Another kiss is placed to her neck, this time just beneath her ear, and Yue’s hands travel up just beneath her breasts to hold her ribcage, traveling to her sides, down to her hips. “Is there anything ‘Lady Mo’ would like that her wife could give to her?”
Azula swallows. Her breath comes out of her in an embarrassing gasp. “Words like that can get us in big trouble,” she reminds Yue.
“Maybe I like trouble.” Yue’s smile is so clear in her voice. How is she able to speak so easily, Azula wonders? Her chest rises and falls with breath against Azula’s back, like the push and pull of the tide. Her breasts are soft through her thin Earth Kingdom dress. Azula’s mind is like a ball of lightning—for once, in a way that’s intensely, impossibly good. “I liked it when you brought it to me. I liked it when I ran away with you. I’m thinking I like it now too.”
“It’s dangerous when girls like you have time to think,” Azula whispers. “You’re too smart. It’s frightening.”
Yue giggles, burying her face into Azula’s neck, nuzzling the skin there. “You’re one to talk, Miss Mastermind.”
Azula scoffs. “Don’t let the boys hear you say that. As if I need another stupid nickname.”
Regretfully, Yue pulls away, but it’s almost worth the trade to see her enormous grin. She shines. Azula is lightheaded.
“Well,” Yue says, smoothing her dress. “Let’s get cooking, then. The duck bones will be good for broth, so it’s lucky we decided to picnic so early in the morning. I think if we…”
In their small, too-warm kitchen, Azula listens and follows instructions. It’s worth it, if only to feel Yue brushing against her in the narrow space.