This is my first Avatar fanfic that I plan on actually finishing. It's a tribute to Azula, probably my favorite character (second to Aang, of course. *snugs Aang*) She's such a fascinating villain, not to mention she's terrifying!
Her emotional breakdown in the last episodes is thought-provoking, to say the least.
So here's Part 1 of my little Azula fic. I tried to make it sympathetic to her without canceling out all the evil she's done. Let's see how I did.
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Azula - Story of a Princess
Princess Azula loved her nation.
She also happened to be extraordinarily bright. She astounded her tutors everyday with her sharp wit, encyclopedia-like mind, and rapid learning. Her firebending prowess was legendary; at the age of seven, she was already bending at a young adult level.
"She has a glorious destiny, my lord," the tutors told her father, Fire Lord Ozai.
Not only was Azula smart, she also had a knack for thinking much deeper than most people tended - or liked - to think. One day, she and Zuko were being tutored history in the schoolroom. The history tutor, a fifty-something man with watery eyes and an magnificent beard, tried his best to hold their attention as he droned on in his creaky voice. He needn't have even tried; Zuko had fallen into a stupor almost as soon as he had sat down. Azula, on the other hand, sat riveted. Her face was relaxed and emotionless, but she was obviously listening intently.
" . . . the Airbenders were growing restless, providing a new threat to the Fire Nation. Your great-grandfather Fire Lord Sozin attacked and eliminated them along with their so-called heretical 'temples,' ensuring yet another victory for out people . . ."
"Mr. Lee, sir?" Azula interrupted him briskly. The tutor looked up and gave her a watery, tired look. "When you say 'eliminated,' do you mean -"
"Killed 'em dead," said the tutor. "Now please kindly hold in your questions until the end of the lesson."
"You mean great grand-daddy killed ALL the airbenders?" Azula said, a hint of wonder in her voice. Young Zuko also looked a bit stunned. Of course he knew about great-grandfather's career, but this last and darkest deed had been so far hidden from him.
The tutor looked at both children severely. "Yes," he said. "They were an unspeakable threat, and their ways were perverse. Their death was perhaps the greatest of your great-grandfather's achievements; by putting an end to them he also put an end to the Avatar, another great threat to the world." He blinked in a dignified manner and stroked his beard. "Now back to the lesson, and please no more interruptions."
Azula lapsed back into her usual attentive silence. However, she dropped her eyes slightly, trying to imagine her great-grandfather, and this greatest, most glorious horror that her ancestor had committed. A whole race of benders, an entire culture, completely wiped out. Rulers, peasents, families and children, all burnt to the dust by the burning power of the Flame.
The Fire Nation was, indeed, great.
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Later that night, Zuko was getting ready for bed when he heard a sharp rap on his door. With a yelp he spun around to see Azula standing in the doorway.
"What the . . . Azula, I was getting dressed!"
Zuko hurriedly finished buttoning his nightshirt and glared at his little sister. "Tell me you didn't put fire flakes in Ty Lee's soup again."
"Zuko!" said Azula, pretending to be affronted. "I grew out of that AGES ago. Father said I was too old for petty pranks. It's time for us to get started with the real stuff." Smiling coldly, she flexed her wrist and created a small but intense flame and wove it into an intricate pattern with her fingers. Zuko stared on in pure envy.
"Don't feel bad, Zuzu," said Azula, using that sweet sugary voice she always used when she wanted to torment him. "I'm sure you'll get it one of these days." Putting out the fire with a sharp flex of her fingers, she flopped down on Zuko's bed. "So what about that history lesson today?"
"What? You mean about the air people?"
"Airbenders, Zuzu. Isn't it fascinating? An entire people that we never knew! And great-granddaddy killed them all!"
Zuko was a bit taken aback. Azula's face had lost its emotionless quality, and her voice was taut and excited. There was a dimple in her cheek that he had never seen there before; a dimple of excitement, of discovery.
"Well . . . it's - interesting," said Zuko, unsure what to say. "I mean - great-grandfather killed a lot of people, didn't he? Why should the air people be any different?"
"This isn't just people. The airbenders were an entire race. Can you imagine, though . . . they were there . . . and now they're gone! And we're the ones who did it!" Azula's voice rang with devilish wonder.
"What's going on in here?" It was Zuko and Azula's mother, Ursa. She shook her dark-haired head somewhat sadly at the sight of the two of them standing together. Zuko and Azula were so different from each other, and yet each was so special. Especially Azula. Although Ursa loved her daughter with all the love of any mother, she couldn't help being disturbed by her daughter's cold, violent mannerisms. It all came from the enviornment she had to grow up in. The war was always on everyone's minds; sometimes an eight-year-old girl just couldn't avoid hearing things she shouldn't be hearing.
"Just telling Zuko goodnight," said Azula sweetly, widening her eyes and fluttering her eyelashes at her mother. Zuko groaned and buried his head in his blankets. Ursa couldn't help but laugh, and her laugh was infectuous; Azula chimed in with her own dignified giggle and even Zuko cracked a grin.
"Well, that's more like it," said Ursa. "Now you two really need to get to bed. Come on Azula, I'll take you to my room."
Ursa put a hand on Azula's shoulder and gently steered her out into the hall. When they were out of Zuko's earshot, she said gently, "Is something wrong?"
Azula balled her fists. Wrong? Nothing was wrong. She was exhilerated, delighted, horrified at what she had learned that day - but not upset. A princess was never upset. A princess was lethal and cunning and subtle and dignified. A princess loved her nation and knew all the right ends to justify the means.
Azula raised her face and met her mother's eyes. "Nothing's wrong, ma," she said, her voice dripping with sincerity. Ursa sighed and nodded, frustrated.
"Azula, I want you to know," she said, slowly and gently, staring her daughter down, "that if anything ever IS wrong, you can come to me."
Azula's expression did not change. She stared at her mother with supreme calmness. "I'll do that, ma," she said.
"I love you," said Ursa, hugging her daughter tightly before tucking her into bed. "Would you like a story?"
"No."
"Good night."
"Good night, mother."
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