#i imagine all of the court and attendants all have bets on when zuko and sokka go public. they're not super good at hiding it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

yannasunflower · 4 years

Text

flux

on today’s episode of “yanna needs to stop writing new things and work on her wips”. i love this show and i wanted to write a lil something that’s been at the back of my mind for a while. always wanted to know what happened while Katara and Zuko waited to hear if they were able to win the war, or if their friends would survive or not. may keep this as a one-shot, may turn it into an actual fic with an Azula redemption arc and actual Zutara shenanigans and politics GALORE. who knows? enjoy!

~~~~~~~~~

Katara is sure he’s dead. She’s never been more sure of anything in her life, to be precise. Azula’s aim is impeccable, Zuko has always been at least a little suicidal, and Katara is a waterbender who is absolutely useless against lightning. Tears are streaming down her face and she’s trying to convince her sputtering heart to keep beating even as she runs toward his prone body, so lifeless, so helpless on the cold, stone ground.

It is no place for a son of Agni.

She falls to her knees and doesn’t stop to listen for a heartbeat, just puts her hands to his chest and prays. The wound is gaping and raw and scorching. She tries to keep her memory from racing to another night on Appa’s back when she held the world’s future in her hands for the first time. Katara hiccups, not sure if she has felt fear like this since Aang took the same lightning bolt in Ba Sing Se. Lightning that put him in a coma for weeks, a wound that didn’t let her sleep for days at a time.

Aang had been necessary to world peace but right now, looking down at Zuko’s pale, fine face, Katara knows in her gut that Zuko is just as instrumental to the future Aang saw, was willing to die, that they were all willing to die for. The comet is still streaking a path of fire through the sky and behind her, Azula is screaming like a wounded animal.

Katara flutters her fingers, inhales, holds her breath, squeezes her eyes shut and tries to imagine the heart in Zuko’s chest, one that is red and bleeds just like hers would be if Zuko hadn’t been so damn noble, so honorable. The thought makes her flinch even while her hands stay steady.

And then she feels more than hears the first tremblings of a heart that’s alive. The heart beneath her stirs, beats, skips, and beats again, stronger and steadier with every passing second. She’s sobbing and thanking every spirit out loud she can think of: Agni, La, Tui, Yue, Agni again for saving his son.

Zuko’s body twitches, his fingers curling inward. Katara could jump for joy when his eyes open, still gold and bright. His voice is quiet and low but strong.

“Thank you, Katara,” he rasps.

Katara can’t stop herself from throwing her arms around his shoulders, sobbing freely now, unable to imagine a future where his heart had remained still forever. Was it only weeks ago she had wanted to throw him from a cliff?

“I think I’m the one who should be thanking you,” she sniffles when she can finally let go of him, trying her best to give him a big, if somewhat watery, smile. Zuko smiles back, awkwardly like he does everything, and Katara resists the urge to hug him again.

“Where’s - what happened to...Azula?” his words are halting. Katara helps him sit up, healer eyes careful to catch any wince.

She jerks her head in Azula’s direction and watches as at first, understanding, then, an indescribable sadness passes over Zuko’s face. She helps him stand at his insistence and when he finally sees his little sister, chained and broken, tears streaming down her face even as she sends fire roaring into the red sky, Katara’s heart breaks. A single word is threaded in Azula’s cries, mama, and Katara’s breath hitches. She looks away, unable in that moment to see anything but a frightened girl she knows she cannot help. A war criminal, a killer, a teenager who was never meant to fight the way she did.

Attendants are flooding the courtyard. Katara can see the understanding dawning on their faces, many of them scurrying in the direction of what she presumes are the Fire Sages who fled at the first sign of Zuko. She glances at him, sees the grim knowing in the set of his jaw.

“Find the Fire Sages. And someone sedate my sister.” Katara flinches. She does not envy the poor soul tasked with shutting a wild Azula up.

His voice rings through the courtyard, commanding, more powerful than he probably feels, sagging against Katara. She frowns up at him, guiding him to the stone steps and setting him down carefully, gently.

“I need to clean that wound and bandage it Zuko, now is not the time for state matters,” she admonishes, preparing herself to pull more water from the soaked ground. Zuko grits his teeth and she recognizes the way his eyes flash molten gold at her. Zuko is truly the most stubborn person she’s ever met, and she’s met Toph Bei Fong.

“Scowl at me all you want, I’m cleaning that wound right this second, even if I have to tie you up to do it. Wouldn’t want your Fire Sages walking in on that I bet,” she growls. He shuts his mouth with a click and she gets to work, trying to be gentle, clenching her jaw at every hiss of pained breath Zuko lets out. With Zuko out of immediate danger, her mind wanders to Aang and Sokka and Toph and Suki. Spirits, her father and her tribe’s men. She wonders if Iroh and the White Lotus have recaptured Ba Sing Se, if they ever even had a chance in hell of it.

Mostly, she tries not to imagine her father’s face if Sokka never comes back.

“Do...do you think Aang is out there, fighting my father?”

The question is quiet, almost a whisper. Katara pauses to consider it. She manages to flash a smile she doesn’t fully feel at him.

“Aang always comes through,” she answers. It is as honest one she can give. It seems to satisfy Zuko, who leans back on his palms as Katara rips the hem of her tunic and wraps it around his torso.

“If,” Katara can’t finish the question. She looks away, at the damaged rooftops still burning, gnawing on her lip. Azula is still shooting blue fire and sobbing and really she knows there’s a comet but how much fire does Azula have? Zuko waits. “If Aang doesn’t defeat Ozai...what will happen to us?”

There is silence for a moment. Katara is afraid to look him in the eye, to even look at his face, so she keeps her gaze focused on wounding the bandage around his chest, tightly but not too much. She ties it off much more carefully than usual, trying to avoid the moment when she will have to look up.

“He’ll try to kill me,” Zuko finally says after a long pause. He can’t run from his homeland again. Her horrified eyes dart to his, mouth open with shock at the mere idea of a father murdering his son. A grin almost curls at the corner of his mouth. Zuko knows that Katara, for all her strengths and intelligence, for all the awful, inhuman things she had seen during the war, he knows that perhaps the one thing she and her brother cannot imagine is that. He realizes, a little abruptly, he has never told any of them how he got his scar.

It’s a story for another day, one bathed in sunlight, where his father’s shadow cannot reach him. He likes to think that day will come, that it exists in his murky future.

The Fire Sages arrive, immediately falling to their knees and pressing their foreheads to the ground, still wet from Katara’s water. She glares at them balefully, disgusted by their spineless cowering and simpering.

“Prince Zuko,” one whimpers, voice somewhat muffled by the floor. “The Fire Sages welcome your return as the rightful heir to the throne.”

Zuko says nothing. She can’t read his eyes or his face, smooth and imperturbable. With a pang, Katara sees the Fire Lord he could become. She is sorely tempted to tell the cowards to scramble in language she has picked up from travelling some of the coarser parts of the world. But this is not her nation, not her palace, and it is not her crown at risk.

“Sit up,” Zuko orders. He speaks with a new authority, one he never uses when talking to her. She blinks a little. It is hard to keep up with Zuko’s faces and sides at times. “Preparations for my coronation will begin immediately. You will declare me Fire Lord in the next hour. We can have a more formal ceremony at a later date.”

Whatever objections the Sage had been about to sputter died on his lips with one hiss from Katara and a little help from the water rapidly freezing around his wrists. Swallowing, hard, he rises to his feet, as well as his companion, who pulls a familiar object from his robes.

“An honor, my lord,” this one rumbles and he meets Zuko’s eyes with a little more defiance than the first. Zuko holds his gaze. The air warms by at least a few degrees. While not versed in Fire Nation politics, Katara is somewhat sure the proper address should have been your highness. By the narrow slit of Zuko’s molten eyes, the slight had not passed unnoticed. She shivers. Katara resists the urge to throw the Sage into the ocean, to make him and his hard, dark eyes disappear. He is a viper in a snake’s nest, at home in a court that Zuko has not truly belonged to for years. The hairs at the back of her neck prickle.

The ceremony is brief and to the point. Katara is beginning to scan the sky for a messenger hawk or some other sign that her brother and their friends are alive. The comet is fading away into the darkening sky. Every moment that passes is painful, agony really. Zuko stands up, shoulders squared and straight, crown gleaming in his black hair. Katara forces a smile, swallowing bile, taking his arm and walking with him to a chamber just a little ways down the hall. When the door closes after a bowing servant, she presses a careful finger to the wound, relieved to find it still closed and not-bleeding.

Her body sags without permission. She is tired, deep in her bones and blood, with a world to rebuild in front of her. Zuko doesn’t look any better off, the dark circles under his eyes difficult to miss. He plucks the crown from his hair, letting it fall loose around his face once more. Katara brushes an errant strand from his cheek, gently, and she marvels at how Zuko no longer flinches from her touch. When had he begun to look at her with trust in those eyes? When did he stop wincing at every movement she made?

He leans into her touch, just a little, and she allows her fingertips to graze his cheek, enjoying the way his eyes fall shut seemingly without permission. There was a time when Zuko had found it difficult to sleep around her, and there was a time when Katara had stood guard outside his door, stiffening at every noise while he slept. Now, his eyes remain shut and it doesn’t take Toph’s hearing to know his breathing has slowed.

They don’t move for what feels like days. When he stirs, Katara startles just a little, averting her gaze quickly, praying Zuko hadn’t caught her tracing the thick black (how unfair) eyelashes that fluttered against his cheekbones (too fine, too angled, the bastard even had good bone structure) with her eyes. She stands, wringing her hands, feeling the last of the water in her skin swirling restlessly.

Katara orders tea and watches with no small amount of amazement as Zuko pours it gracefully. She had nearly forgotten his time working a menial tea shop job in Ba Sing Se. Somehow, the sight of an injured Fire Lord Zuko skillfully pouring her steaming tea is both humorous and disconcerting.

“We should have heard by now,” she frets as the sky still darkens and time still passes with no word from any of their allies. Outside, she knows the palace is in disarray and the nobles are probably wondering if it is safe to come out yet, but Zuko is in no condition to appear before them as their new Fire Lord, he looks exhausted, La she wishes she could let him sleep. But the world is on fire and Katara is drinking tea mostly to preserve her sanity at this point, so damn the nobles and damn the politics.

The waiting is almost worse than the fighting. After a few comfortable minutes spent in silence, Katara’s worrying breaks it again.

Zuko flashes her a familiar, exasperated scowl.

“Stop fidgeting, for Agni’s sake,” he sighs. His tired, overly-patient tone is familiar. Afternoons watching him and Aang work through firebending forms flood her mind. She grins sheepishly. “If Ozai had defeated Aang, we would know by now. That’s not something he would keep to himself for longer than necessary.”

The words soothe her, but only slightly. Because by defeated he meant killed and the thought of Aang’s small, broken body is too much for her to bear.

“Katara.” Zuko hesitates, and she waits, because they always know when more is coming, they always know when to wait for the other.

“Thank you, for healing me,” he says and she can’t help but laugh at the genuine, earnest way he looks at her from under those unfair lashes. It’s a boyish expression in a face that long ago lost its roundness.

“You already said that,” she dismisses him. “And I told you, I’m the one who should thank you. I would be dead if it wasn’t for you. You almost threatened the future of the world to save me.”

Zuko looks slightly confused.

“You are the future,” he says and damn him he’s done it again. Her heart is sputtering, blood rushing to her cheeks and she briefly considers trying to bloodbend the blush away. Because Zuko’s face, no longer boy-round, permanently scarred by the cruelty of his father, is so damned honest and grateful and la, she is trying hard not to wonder what would happen if she leans forward, just a little.

Zuko’s eyes are more than gold, she finds, especially in firelight, and is this what Agni’s eyes would look like she tries not to wonder, tries not to see that she has leaned closer, unwittingly, or maybe not, her thoughts a jumbled tangle of heat and fear and spirits there’s still a war going on. But she can’t help but notice that Zuko isn’t moving away, is just watching her face in a way that sets her bones on fire and spirits, she wants to touch his cheek again -

A rapid, soft knock on the door makes her gasp. She throws her body away from him in a ridiculously dramatic motion. It’s only a servant, asking if her new Fire Lord would like food, bowing all the while. Katara takes that moment to straighten herself, gulping in steadying breaths and pushing the stolen moment far, far from the front of her mind.

“Have any messages come for me?” Zuko asks and the servant girl shakes her head. Katara’s heart sinks and from Zuko’s thin mouth, fear is beginning to settle into his bones, too.

It only takes a few moments of awkward silence after the servant leaves for Katara to start fidgeting again. She has just about made up her mind to take Appa to where the Fire Nation’s fleet had planned to raze the Earth Kingdom to the ground when a servant enters, bowing low at the waist, a sealed message in her hand.

“Pardon me, Your Majesty, but a messenger hawk has just arrived from Ba Sing Se.”

Zuko grabs the message hungrily, breaking it open and scanning the words before the girl has straightened from her bow. He sighs, deeply, and Katara reads it over his shoulder, nearly bursting into tears again with relief.

“They recaptured Ba Sing Se,” she whispers. Her hand grasps Zuko’s shoulder and he reaches a hand up to clasp it silently. For a moment, the world straightens.

“Please bring any other messages directly to me,” Zuko says. The girl can’t quite stop herself from blinking rapidly before bowing low again and retreating, red definitely crawling up her neck. Zuko looks confused and Katara nearly laughs. She doesn’t have the heart to tell him that she doesn’t think Fire Lords often say please when addressing servants.

A distant scream sends Katara scrambling for her waterskin and Zuko trying to jump to his feet, failing miserably and crying out as he slumps back.

“Stay put,” Katara orders him, forgetting for a moment the crown on Zuko’s head. She runs out before she can think too hard about it, her legs taking her to the courtyard, water already rising from the stones, fire burning in her veins because Zuko bled for this palace, these people, before a familiar wolf tail registers in her heart.

“Sokka!” She definitely screams it a little, nearly falls at least twice as she rushes forward and throws herself into his arms, his healthy, alive arms. He’s on crutches and his leg is bent strangely but she doesn’t care because he’s alive and holding her tight and trembling against her. Suki grunts a little, bearing the brunt of his weight, but makes no complaints, smiling too broadly to feign irritation.

Aang is standing next to him when she finally pulls back, a tired smile on his young face.

“Hey Katara,” he says and he sounds his age for once but she doesn’t care because La, he’s alive and so is Toph and Suki and she’s going to cry again. She’s not sure who is hugging who but it doesn’t matter because all of her friends are breathing and here.

“Where’s Sparky?” Toph asks when they all manage to disentangle themselves. Katara’s eyes widen and she gasps.

She turns on her heel to find a very injured Zuko hobbling down the steps.

She runs to him, throwing his arm over her shoulder and shooting him an apologetic grin.

“Agni, did you think you could face Ozai alone?” he wheezes and she laughs because he is alive, too, and he took lightning for her, and everyone she loves may have just made it out of this war.

The group rushes forward, murmuring sympathies, arms reaching out to embrace Zuko, and they fall into another tangled hug, tears streaming down faces, Sokka complaining about his leg, Toph grumbling about sappiness even as she slings to Katara like she’ll never let go. Katara looks at Aang and his grey eyes are still alight with something that is all him, all Aang the airbender, and he smiles at her the way a child who has not been ravaged by war would.

Questions and answers will come later, as will healing and scars and hard work and negotiations. In the light of the lanterns and the moon and the small spots of fire the servants have not yet put out though, Katara clings to her family and begins to realize that the war that killed her mother is over. The war that took her father, took Aang’s people and Zuko’s innocence, took Azula’s soul. It is over.

She is alive, they all are, and they are breathing in a new life, a future. Together.

#yanna speaks #text #atla #zutara #zuko #katara #azula #gaang #atla fanfiction #atla fanfic #canonverse #avatar: the last airbender #iroh #toph #suki #sokka #azula redemption maybe???#please reblog and let me know what you think!!!

30 notes · View notes

bellatrixobsessed1 · 5 years

Text

Wan High Weeping (Part 45)

Zuko handed his chip to Iroh, the old man smiled warmly. “One month, Zuko. You should be proud of yourself.” He handed the chip back. “Jasmine or ginger?”

“Whatever you think would taste the best.” Zuko replied, knowing very well that the man would brew up every type of tea if he had the chance. Especially since he was brewing it in celebration of him having been newly cleared for outpatient. He watched Iroh bring down his special tea set and his higher end herbal mixes. “You don’t have to do that uncle. I’ve only been a month clean.”

“A month clean is more to celebrate than a year clean.”

Zuko furrowed his brows.

“It gets easier and easier over time. I’ve always thought that it was the first few months that counted the most. Those are the months where you have to truly fight and restrain yourself.” He set the cups out on the table. “So let’s celebrate the strength in that.”

Zuko picked up one of the cups. They had a red class make with a filigree trim of gold that resembled the powerful scales of a dragon. Genuine gold, according to his uncle. That genuine gold trim was inlaid with genuine ruby, table cut. He was almost afraid to pick it up, let he shatter it. He was almost certain that the glasses were the most expensive things his uncle owned, next to the matching teapot; a thing that depicted an dragon unfurling its shimmery wings and puffing out a breath of metallic fire.

It would be at least an hour before the tea would be served. Only Iroh could draw it out that meticulously. But that had to be the reason why his tea was particularly wonderful, with the ability to make him feel wholly cleansed by the last sip. Some months ago he would have been rushing the man, telling him to hurry it up as it was just tea and he had things to attend. Today he was glad for the length of preparation. “Uncle, I have something to talk to you about.”

“Anything.” Iroh replied.

“I love it here, you know I do.” He paused. “And I know I just got back…”

Iroh moved his tea kettle to the stove. “Yes?”

“But I ran into Azula and she said that she was living with mother.”

Iroh smiled. “And you want to go stay with her for a while.”

Zuko nodded. Though he was worried at the prospect of staying with Azula again. “How far away does she live?”

“Not very far at all.”Iroh replied. “You could walk there, if you really wanted to.” He turned away from the kettle. “Would you like to bring some tea to your mother and sister?”

It sounded like a plan to him.

.oOo.

“Teo, this is my mother.” Azula introduced.

“Good afternoon, Ms. Kasai!” He greeted.

“Ursa is fine, dear.” She smiled. “How did you meet my daughter?”

“Well, there was this one time--I think it was last year--when she threatened to push me out of my wheelchair. You know, typical love at first sight things.”

Azula resisted the urge to slap her hand against her forehead. “Keep sharing stories like that and I will push you out of your wheelchair.” She mumbled.

Ursa sighed. “Well I’m glad that the two of you have moved passed that.” Azula supposed that she appreciated her mother’s efforts to not accuse her of being difficult to care for. “She has been treating you well lately?”

Teo curled his hand around hers. “Yeah, she’s been great.”

Ursa moved into the pantry and pulled out some homemade pastries. She offered them to Teo. “Thank you for being there for her when I wasn’t.”

“Yeah, no problem.”

“If you want to give some to your father for raising such a gentlemen, I’d appreciate it.”

Azula couldn’t tell whose face was more flushed, her’s or Teo’s.

“I can do that.” He took the tin.

Ursa turned to Azula. “I have some for Katara and her family as well.”

“I’ll try to remember.” Azula replied. She ought to remember, it would likely do Katara well to have some kind of a treat the monday after her trial. Based upon the silent treatment she was given by both TyLee and Katara, she was willing to bet that it was in full swing.

“Alright, well I have a sequel to work on. If you two need anything, give me a call. And let me know if you plan on going anywhere.”

Azula fights back a frown, Ozai had never made her report where she was going. “I was just planning on going around the block.” Between practice and therapy sessions, she hadn’t exactly gotten to explore the neighborhood. That was her plan for the day, the venture would be more pleasant with some company.

As soon as she stepped outside, she regretted it. She didn’t realize that the forecast had called for snow. She drew her hood over her head. It was a light fluffy sort of snowfall, the kind that clung to her lashes and the wool of her gloves, but only for a second before they melted away. The ground already had a light dusting of the stuff; it glittered trees and set the windshields of cars shimmering.

“Your mom is a nice lady.”

“She’s trying.” Azula replied. Though trying was an understatement. The woman was doing everything in her power to make Azula feel at home. It was almost suffocating, especially when put up against the lack of affection Ozai had shown her. Yet it was as comforting as it was overbearing. She no longer outright dreaded breakfast. She wasn’t comfortable, by any means, but she wasn’t going to great lengths to avoid it either.

It also didn’t horrify her to bring back a lackluster report card. Ursa insisted that her collection of B’s was perfectly acceptable. Azula disagreed vehemently, agitated that she had let them slip that far. Granted Xi River was in the process of discussing accommodations in light of her transfer, her abuse, and her suicide attempt. Even so, she didn’t want a pity grade.

It was a hassle to do so, but she left those thoughts on the back burner for the time; she had promised Teo a real date. In her mind, she flipped subjects to something lighter--her teammates were as awful on the court as they had claimed, but they treated her well. She both hated and loved to admit that Yue had been right, they paid very little attention to her body. Shoko in particular seemed to put all of her attention on simply not getting a volleyball to the face.

“I have my first game next weekend.” The words were accented by small misty puffs that drifted skyward. “Are you going to come?”

“Of course I’ll come. What time does it start?”

“It starts at seven.” She replied. “I would be there by six.” Actually she would be there by five if someone had invited her to a game, but she couldn’t imagine Teo wanting to arrive that early.

“I’ll see if Katara and TyLee want to come.” He came to a stop. “This is pretty nice.”

She wasn’t sure if he was talking about the pond and its snow-speckled cattails or the faded white gazebo overlooking it. She wheels him toward it, only to find that its only entrance had stairs. She hadn’t seen him look so disappointed in a while. With a deep sigh she attempted to lift him out of the chair. She supposed that she could handle carrying him for that short distance. She set him down on the bench built into the gazebo, facing the water. The effort left her terribly winded but his eyes had such a twinkle. She sat herself down to catch her breath. After a few moments, he pulled out his camera. At first only capturing the pond and the snowfall. Eventually he grew board of this and slung his arm around her.

Her cheeks are rosy with the cold. She cold no longer feel her nose. But she let him snap the picture anyhow.

He snatched up her phone and took a second. How wonderful, she would never have to worry about forgetting the time she almost froze her ass off in a gazebo. She shivered. With her phone back in her hands, she took off her gloves to send Katara a quick text, asking her to let her know how the trial had gone. That alone, left her hands a shade of pink. She shivered with more force.

“You don’t do too well in the cold do you?”

“I have no idea why you’d say such a thing.” She muttered through chattering teeth.

“Do you want to head back to your place?”

She didn’t spare it a second thought. She scooped Teo back up and put him in his wheelchair. They hadn’t gotten very far at all, in their walk. She supposed that she would have to explore the place in the spring, or at the very least, on a warmer winter day.

“Whose car is that?” Teo asked.

“I’m not sure, maybe one of mother’s friends.” Using a makeshift ramp, she helped Teo get onto the porch and pulled the door open. Hot air was pleasant on her skin. The smell of herbs was twice as potent as it was prior to her walk. She hung her coat and hat up and made her way into the kitchen, Teo in tow.

“Uncle?”

“Good evening, niece.” He greeted. “If I would have known you’d have a guest, I would have brought a fifth teacup.” “It’s fine, uncle. Teo and I can share.” She was trembling and desperate for something to warm her. So much so that she almost didn’t ask him what he was doing there.

“I came to drop your brother off.” He filled her cup and handed it to her. “I hope that you will make things easy for him.”

“He wants to live here?” But of course he did, their mother meant the world to him. It was going to be strange to be in his company again. It had been so long. She brought the teacup to her lips, savoring the heat that rolled off of the liquid and onto her tongue.

Azula heard a drawn out beep and Ursa stood. “The two of you made it back just on time for dinner.” Iroh followed her into the kitchen, no doubt to give she and Zuko some bonding time.

“Sweet.” Teo smiled.

Azula still didn’t share his sentiments. Two weeks into her new meal plan and it still left her feeling privately ashamed and without the comfort of being able to rid herself of it. For an uncountable amount of times, she reminded herself that the purging didn’t do anything anyways. She swept a curtain of hair out of her face and offered the teacup to Teo. She had taken care to leave it half full.

“Thanks.”

She nodded.

.oOo.

Zuko knew that he would be seeing Azula soon, his mother had told him that much. He hadn’t expected to see her enter, hand in hand with Teo. The last he recalled, she was mocking the boy for his condition. And yet, she had helped him get comfortable at the table’s end, she was sharing her drink with him. It would seem that he had missed a lot where Azula was concerned. Every time she spoke it became more apparent. Granted, she was still much quieter than usual--perhaps it was because he had showed up unannounced.

Physically she was different too. His brief and somewhat distant glance at her in the rehab facility hadn’t been enough time to process it. Since then she had put on a little more weight and it occurred to him that, that was why he hadn’t recognized her right away. He felt bad for thinking so, even if she’d never hear it.

And her hair, had it been dyed when he first re-encountered her? He could have sworn that it was fully black. But now her hair faded from its natural hue to a deep crimson to a vivid read. It had been trimmed nicely and framed her face well.

She was wearing makeup again, winging her eyeliner in the way he was use to seeing her wear it.

The clothing she wore was different as well; stylistically it was the same, but it was much baggier. He didn’t know if he should attribute this to insecurities or to the cold.

All in all, she was well put together, as usual. It wasn’t fair that her life could be in such disarray that she needed therapy, and that she could still look as sharp as ever. He wondered if he should vocalize his thoughts but decided against it, not knowing how she would take it. Instead he pulled his chip out of his pocket and set it on the table. “I got my red chip today. Picked it up really early this morning.”

“Your red chip?” Azula asked.

“I’ve been clean for a month.”

“I thought that you were admitted in October.”

“I had a relapse.” He replied reluctantly. As soon as he said it, his stomach heaved. He had just given her a huge opening. He was lucky his mother was still out of earshot, he didn’t want to give her another thing to get teary eyed over.

.oOo.

He relapsed.

Azula supposed that she wasn’t surprised, he hadn’t had many people to support him. She almost felt bad for having people to hold her hand when he had no one until now and most people considered her to be the more unapproachable and unlovable of the two.

She could see it on his face that he thought she was going to hold his confession over him for years to come. But she had nothing to say. She was a pound or two away from having a relapse of her own. “Did you have to go through it alone? The withdrawl, I mean?”

“No, I had Hahn.”

“Hahn?”

“He’s two years clean and he likes to drop by to help newcomers.”

She didn’t know where to carry the conversation from there and a hush fell over them. Zuko rested his arm on the table, it still bore signs of abuse. Pockmarks accented the length of his forearm and she was almost certain that those scars would remain.

Aside from that, he seemed to be in a much better state. His hair was clean, his face was well-shaved again. He no longer had the look of a man in times of famine. His eyes stood out the most. They were focused and had a spark to them.

His eyes had life.

It didn’t occur to her just how haunting and hollow his appearance had diminished until, the old Zuko resurfaced. She picked up the chip. “One month.” She wondered if bulimics got special chips.

Zuko smiled, he seemed so proud. He had well and earned his right to be so. She flicked the coin back to him. He caught it and returned it to his pocket.

“Wow, you guys are tense.” Teo remarked. She had to ponder upon what his relationship with his brother might have been like.

“So, when did you and Azula become friends?”

“Friendship happened some time in September. Dating started...actually that’s kind of unclear, it just kind of happened.” Teo replied.

“He’s your…?”

“Yes, perhaps you should get one.”

“For your information, I already did.”

“You got back with Mai, already?” Azula asked. It brought a dull ache to her heart to think of Mai. The girl hadn’t spoken to her in ages and the thought of reaching out...that window had well and passed.

“No.” Zuko replied. “We were talking about boyfriends. I said that I got one of those.”

“It’s Hahn isn’t it?” His face flushed and Azula smirked. “It is Hahn.”

She tried not to think about where that was going to leave Mai.

.oOo.

Zuko smiled to himself, dinner had gone so much better than he thought it would. Speaking to Azula became surprisingly pleasant after some of the awkwardness cleared. She, him, uncle, and mother--aside from the absence of a father, it was like a real family dinner. If things with Ozai hadn’t been so rough and recent, he might have made a joke about Teo filling in for their father. But Ozai was one subject Zuko couldn’t seem to make light of. And Azula? She didn’t bring the man up at all. In fact, she still hadn’t reveal anything at all about what had led to her living with their mother.

Altho, hesitantly, she was eating again. A full and regular meal at that. She made no mention of this either and he felt like he’d be pushing boundaries to ask.

He would chalk it up to Ozai simply forcing her to fast. That would explain, at least a little, how she ended up at the table with he, mother, and uncle.

After a while, she pushed a mostly empty plate to the side and announced that she was going to be taking Teo home. It was getting late and she had a two hour commute going both ways.

Now it was just he, uncle and mother.

“Do you want me to get your things from the car?” Iroh offered.

“Please.” Zuko replied.

“While he does that, I can show you to your room.” Ursa spoke. “I didn’t realize you were coming, otherwise I would have gotten you things to decorate with, like I did for Azula.”

“It’s okay.” He was just glad to be in her care again.

“Tomorrow we can go to the store and pick up a few things.”

That sounded good to him. She led him around the mansion. It was a lovely place with a much warmer and more inviting ambiance than Ozai could have ever hoped to create. With the conversation and his thoughts in a calmer, quieter place, it registered that Ursa had soft music playing in the background. The Chinese harp and a Chinese zither welcomed him to his new life.

The wallpaper was as floral as her garden. Winter plants, hung in pots by every window. She led him passed Azula’s room. It was as tidy and organized as ever. He noticed that she was displaying her medals and trophies again. Her favorite volleyball, was propped against her dresser.

He didn’t know how he was going to decorate his room yet. A few rock band posters couldn’t hurt. He’d probably place the tea set Iroh gifted to him on his dresser. Other than that, he wasn’t sure what he’d do. He’d probably just collect things to decorate with over time.

“Are you disappointed in me?” He asked.

Ursa came to an abrupt halt. “Why would you think that? I haven’t done anything to make you feel that way, did I?”

“No.” Zuko replied. “But I feel like having a heroin addict for a son, isn’t something to be proud of.”

“Oh, Zuko.” She took him into a hug. The kind he had longed for since the divorce. The kind that made him feel like he was worth the world. “I’m going to tell you what I told Azula.” She paused. “I’m not disappointed in you, I’m disappointed in your father for driving you to this. I’m furious actually. The court gave you to him, thinking that he’d give you a better life. I let him take you because I thought that he could provide for you better than I would.”

“Living on the streets with you, would have been safer than living with him.” Zuko agreed. “Maybe not for Azula, but…”

“Zuko.” She spoke firmly. “There’s a reason I’m fighting for custody over her. I’ll leave it to her to tell you about that, but Ozai was no good for her either. I need the two of you to support each other. If the two of us can work things out with her, your father will have that much less in his favor.”

.oOo.

Teo beckoned her inside. It was already 10:33. She rolled her eyes, “I can’t go in before you, you need me to hold the door, remember.”

“Let me at least pretend to be a gentleman.”

She took hold of the outer glass door and allowed him to pass. The inner door stood open on its own. “Now you can be a gentleman.”

“Urge gone.” He replied, wheeling himself the rest of the way in.

“Incredible.” She muttered under her breath. She hadn’t the time to come inside anyhow. “I have to get going.”

“How long is your drive?” Teo’s father asked.

“Two hours.”

“That is way too late to be driving!” The man declared. “You know, tired driving is as dangerous as drunk driving…”

“Dad!” Teo cut him off. “Do you want to spend the night, Azula?”

Azula sighed. Well, she was living with her mother now, she might as well give her something classically motherly to worry about. She sent the woman a text, telling her that she would be spending the night at Teo’s house.

“Our picture already got likes.” Teo remarked once they were in his bedroom.

“You posted that!?”

“You didn’t say not to.”

Fair point. She still didn’t like it.

“Who’s Nagako?”

“She sits with me at lunch.” Azula replied. She opened up her phone’s internet browser. She hadn’t logged into any of her social media pages since her attempt. She hadn’t anyone to talk to. It shouldn’t have been a shock to find new friend requests, it should have been something she was used to. Once upon a time, she had received them daily. She approved Katara, Nagako, and her volleyball team. “This guy seems like a creep, I should block him.”

Teo, still looking down at his phone, replied, “yeah.”

She hit the block button.

It took him a few moments. “Hey! Unblock me!”

Her smirk only faded when a message notification popped up. Really, it would do her well to leave it unread. But she was curious. Curious and unwilling to look like a coward. She unblocked Teo before clicking it.

The message was much simpler than she would have thought. ‘Please don’t sue me.’ He was typing again. ‘My parents will kick my ass.’

All the more reason to go through with the lawsuit.

“Who is it?”

“Chan.”

“What does he want?”

Azula shrugged. “Mercy.”

Her fingers hovered over the phone’s keyboard. ‘I’ll kick your ass myself.’ Against her better judgement, she hit send.

‘So will I. I’ve been doing a pretty good job of kicking my own ass, actually.’

She had a response at the ready, but he started typing again.

‘Can we talk.’

‘We’re talking now.’ She replied before he could begin again.

‘In person?’

‘That sounds like a perfectly horrible idea.’

Another message popped up. Clicking on that one would have been a worse idea still. He was going to have her head for it, but she blocked her father anyhow. The action left her feeling exposed and uneasy.

‘Please.’ Chan persisted. ‘You can bring that Ryoko chick, she looks perfectly terrifying.’

Azula looked to Teo, “you up for a little...adventure tomorrow?”

“Are you asking me if I want to talk to Chan with you?”

“Come or don’t come, I’m rather curious.”

“Fine, I’ll go with.”

She turned her attention back to her phone. ‘12:00. If you aren’t there at exactly 12:00, you won’t be seeing me.’

.oOo.

Zuko stretched and yawned. The scent of pancakes tickled his nose. It took him a moment to recall that he was in a new bed. A more comfortable one with a foam mattress and a collection of push pillows. The sun streamed through his windows as brightly as winter would allow.

“Did Azula ever come home?” Zuko asked, upon finding only his mother at the table.

“She spent the night at Teo’s.” Ursa answered. “Syrup?”

Zuko took the syrup and poured a generous amount over his pancakes. The smell of coffee adds a friendly tang to the morning. He couldn’t fathom why he hadn’t thought of finding and living with his mother earlier.

It might have saved him from a trip to rehab.

But then, he had started using heroin before his eighteenth birthday. Even so, he can’t bring himself to wholly regret having started his use. He didn’t think that finding Ursa would have been possible without. Even if that was the case, he wouldn’t have met Hahn.

“These are really good!” Zuko commented. He couldn’t recall the last time he had eaten homemade pancakes. Tastes like the would surely keep him away from heroine. He liked to think so anyways.

“Thank you.” Ursa smiled. “I thought that it would be too late to ever cook for my children again.”

His phone flashed, he picked it up, eager for good morning wishes from uncle or Hahn. Instead Mai’s name glared from the screen. He considered letting it pile on top of all of the other messages from her, he had missed while in rehab.

.oOo.

Chan stuffed his hands into his pockets. He wasn’t looking forward to this one at all. The trial had good and ruined his Saturday, he might as well end the weekend on a sour note. The only good news was that Jet’s collection of outbursts had essentially sealed his fate. But he didn’t condemn himself without collateral damage. The man went on a good tangent about how Chan had, had a good hand in Ruon’s demise. How his parties were trashy and perfect for people like Jet. He had asked Chan if he considered how many other people had been assaulted at his parties, people who didn’t and would never come forward. It turned his stomach.

And turned it twice over when Jet stated that he had enjoyed hitting Ruon where it hurt. Thrice over when Jet stated that he had laid some unwanted moves on Ruon, just to see him squirm.

The boy was vile through and through, and not the kind that could be helped. Chan had to guess that the boy didn’t want to change.

It was his final words that followed him. “Punch me as much as you want, you killed him too.”

He had, hadn’t he? Ruon was dead because everything had been a joke or a party to Chan. It was easier that way, until it wasn’t.

He could have pulled Jet off of Katara and made something of himself. It could have been an eye-opener, but it was easier to remain blind.

Ruon killed himself because he had a friend who was def to his problems.

He killed Ruon just as much as Jet had.

He had almost done Azula the same.

Hell, he probably had Teo teetering close to the edge and Katara as well.

It was frigid and nippy as hell but he made his way down to the beach. She hadn’t told him where to meet her. She didn’t need to. He wandered to the volleyball court, the season had already formed sparkling crystals on the net.

12:00 turned into 12:01 and 12:01 turned into 12:02.

He should have asked for a location.

“You better make this worth my while.” He jumped at the sound of her voice. “You know that I hate this weather.” She was buried beneath so many layers, it was hard to forget. He did try to forget, however, the day he had taken her ice skating and she bundled herself up in much the same way.

“You said 12:00.” He commented lamely.

“Yes, you needed to be here by 12:00. I get to take my time.” Her voice dripped with venom and hate and he was beginning to regret extending the invitation. “Katara told me that you got out of your last trail without repercussion. Why shouldn’t I change that?” She folded her arms over her chest.

It was hard to gauge her expression beneath her layers of hoods. He didn’t need to see it to know that she was unshakably pissed. The biting cold wasn’t doing him any favors. “Do you want to go to a restaurant or something?”

Wrong move.

“What, so you can make more fat jokes?”

Completely wrong move.

“Do you think I’m as dull as you?”

He looked to Teo for help. He knew he wouldn’t get it based on that shit eating grin the boy was wearing.

“I just thought that you’d want to go somewhere warmer.”

“Not necessary, this conversation is going to be quick.” Azula replied. “I believe that it’s already almost over.

He groaned, he was going to have to swallow his pride. “Okay, look, I was an asshole.”

“You speak as though you aren’t still.”

The girl was merciless. He supposed that it was nice to see fire back on her tongue, he just wished it wasn’t lashing at him. Still, he knew that the lashes were well earned, he had been one of the people to kill the flame in the first place.

“I’m trying to fix that.”

“You’re trying to save yourself from another trial.”

“I don’t want to be like him.” Chan insisted. “Did Teo give you this big of a hassle when you apologized to him!?”

“Kiss my ass, Chan.”

Teo’s snickering didn’t do Chan’s temper any favors.

“I’m trying!” He sputtered. “And it is not working.”

“Clearly.” Teo snorted.

Azula looked horrifically unamused. She looked down at her phone. “I live two hours away, thank you for your hand in that, by the way. I have to get going. Have fun with Usha.”

“Wait!” Chan raked his hands through his hair. “I don’t even like Usha. I only got with her to bother you.”

“Congratulations, it worked for a while. Good to know that it bothered you too.” She hit a button on her car keys and he heard the faint pop of the doors unlocking. She turned around. “While I’m here, I might as well ask why.”

“Why what?”

“Why did you want to bother me?”

“I wanted attention.” He confessed.

“You had it.” Azula scoffed. “I want a real reason.”

And he had none for her. They’d known each other for years. They had been in the same group of friends for years. Until her accident. He knew that Usha had been sitting there nice, pretty, and waiting for Azula to fall so that she could take her place at the top. She told him that much. But him? Where was the appeal for him?

He couldn’t say why, but it had simply been fun. It was one thing to pick on a nerd and a completely new and interesting experience to pick on someone who had toppled painfully down the social ladder. Was that it? Was that really the only reason he had done it?

“I don’t have one.” He admitted.

“I know.”

The snow crunched beneath her feet as she wheeled Teo back up the beach. Between the sand and the ice, it was a task she was struggling with. He reached out. “If anyone’s accidently dumping Teo into the snow, it’s going to be me. You’ve pushed him out of his chair enough.”

She wasn’t missing one chance. “It’s good to have you back.” He tried. It was one final attempt at ass kissing.

“You do not have me back.” She huffed as she fought to free Teo’s wheelchair from a mound of snowy sand. It would be comical if she wasn’t so frustrated and he wasn’t so stressed. “Not even.” Another huff. “Close.” The chair was free.

“I mean that it’s good to hear some of that sass again.” If nothing else, at least he knew that he hadn’t left any permanent damage to her self-worth. “Can I please help you wheel nerdass...Teo back to your car?”

“Nerdass doesn’t want your help.” Teo grumbled.

“Neither do I.”

He watched her help Teo into her car and then she climbed into it for herself. It would seem that things were finally going to catch up to him. She turned her keys and the engine wheezes. She gave it a second go and a third. He wasn’t a lip reader, but he knew her well enough to know that she was silently cursing to herself and to Teo.

“I have a car and jumper cables.” Chan offered.

“Call the tow truck, Teo.”

“Really?” He sputtered. “Now you’re just being difficult.”

“Correct.”

Chan pinched the bridge of his nose. “Look. I’m sorry. Do you want to slap me in the face or something? Would that help?”

He didn’t expect her to take him up on his offer. The sting her hand left reminded him exactly why she had been so good at volleyball. “It helped a little.”

“How many slaps will it take to get you to hear me out?” He asked.

“At least one.”

He sucked in a deep breath, “go on.”

She rolled her eyes. “Start jumping my car. We can talk while you do that.”

#Avatar #Azula #Zuko #Iroh #Ursa #Teo #Chan #Mai #TyLee #Katara #Sokka #Suki #Aang #Toph #Ozai #Jet #Fanfiction

7 notes · View notes