Azula let out a dry laugh at Zuko’s attempt for a joke. Talking to one of them. Unlikely.
“Actually uncle threw them out,” she told him truthfully, “and he did not cry.” She shrugged awkwardly.
“Honestly I think he did it to stop me from doing anything rash.” Azula rolled her eyes. She let the silence build between them for a moment.
“…Were you afraid of me?” Azula wasn’t certain she wanted to know the answer, or to what end she had asked the question, but it escaped between her teeth anyway, floating into the space between them.
It must have been extreme…” Zuko mused. Uncle Iroh was one of the gentlest, most forgiving souls he knew. It took a lot to make him even a bit angry, let alone to the point of kicking someone to the curb.
That wiped the smile right off his face.
He didn’t want to answer. He didn’t want her to know his answer, for many reasons. He shifted uncomfortably, clearing his throat.
“I-…wha- …you-… When-? What do you mean?”
Azula offered him a look of annoyance for his stumbling.
“You just said you could relate to people throwing hot beverages at me in their haste to get away from me,” she pointed out, deadpan, “so logically I have to ask if you were afraid of me.”
She looked away briefly at that, playing with the hem of her robes.
“I mean -- I did rather ruthlessly chase you and Uncle through the Earth Kingdom after trying to trick you into coming back to the Fire Nation to be placed under arrest.” She shrugged, shoulders tight, “It wouldn’t be a surprise.”
In fact it might even explain some of their interactions since she had come home...In fact perhaps that was both of their problems. They lived in fear of one another. It was just that Azula hadn’t considered that Zuko might still be afraid of her, despite the removal of her claws in the former of her suppressed bending.
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