Lychee Nuts - (Azula x Aang)
Fanfic Snippet
So, I was planning on slowly getting back into writing for fun and posting some one-shots for Aang Rarepair Week (Yes, I know it was in like April but I was studying for finals. Besides, every week is Aang Rarepair week.) But, as I wrote this brief one-shot for Day 1 Denial... I started having all these ideas and now it's probably going to be a full multi-chapter fic! Anyways, just thought I'd drop this short snippet here because, let's be honest, Aang rarepair ships could use a little more attention.
Her servants would inform her of current happenings around the world. While not being allowed to step foot outside the palace walls, this was the one way she could understand how the world was continuing to change. The Council refused her even the briefest opportunity to step foot outside. They believed she would initiate some sort of coup otherwise. Ridiculous. In their defense, she had already thought about how she would accomplish such a goal and could execute it if she so wished. Luckily for Zuzu, she simply had no interest in pursuing such efforts at this time.
While there should have been some solace in being back home - surrounded by all the luxuries and commodities she was used to - restful sleep eluded her. Most nights consisted of tossing and turning, chased by demons of her past that somehow always grew stronger in the night; as if they knew she grew weaker as the sunset. Some nights were harder than others…
Azula walked down the Royal Gallery hall. Her footsteps echoed through a silent corridor. She was, as always, the very picture of poise and confidence, though she was not sure exactly where she was going. However, Azula noticed something in her peripheral that stopped her in her tracks. Turning towards the line of portraits she faced the domineering image of the once-great Fire Lord Ozai. She raised her hand towards it and grazed her nails against the soft silk of the portrait to confirm if it were real. She had purposely avoided the hall ever since her return. She could not bear to look upon the face of her father. She did not ask nor speak of him for he only existed in her mind as the image of power and greatness he once was and not what may have become of him now.
“Azula,” she obediently turned to face the familiar, emotionless call of her name and immediately dropped into a bow, head hung low.
“Father…” She could tell her voice was shaky even as she attempted to fight it off. “I did not expect to see you.”
“Hm.” She looked up to see Fire Lord Ozai closely observing his own portrait. He was just as she remembered him. Tall with a gaunt face and shiny long black hair. He was wearing the Fire Lord headpiece. Azula released a breath she did not realize she was holding. All seemed right with the world. She rose and stood by his side. “I suppose it will be your portrait here one day. The Fire Nation may continue to thrive.” She beamed at this.
“Of course, father. I will make you proud,” Azula responded dutifully.
“Will you?” He sounded doubtful, almost amused. “Your brother turned out to be a disappointment. Perhaps you may too.”
“Father, you cannot possibly compare me to Zuko!”
“And yet you have failed me just as he has.” She was taken aback by this. Azula was many things but a failure was not one of them. “B-but I conquered Ba Sing Se! I killed the Avatar!” She hated how the scrutinizing gaze of her father turned her into a stammering child but she could not help it. He always had this effect on her “I have always been by your side! I would not betray you the way he did!” He directed his gaze to her. Amber eyes so much like her own peered down at her. However, while her own eyes were cold and steely, his had a fire burning behind them. Azula must have lost that fire long ago. He took a menacing step toward her.
“Have you not already betrayed me, Azula?” he questioned. Azula took a step backward. “I had high hopes for you. But time and again you let me down. It is because of you that the Fire Nation fell.
“No…” she whispered. He took another step towards her. She took another back.
“It is because of you that we lost the war.”
“No..!” she whispered slightly louder.
“And it is because of you the Avatar won! You could not save me nor our country. You are a failure and disappointment no different than your brother. Perhaps even worse for you fooled me into believing that you were capable.” Azula tried to compose herself but she could not before his intimidating stature and grave, gaunt face. There was no kindness or mercy there- just wrath and fury. She looked around, panicked, and noticed they were no longer in the Royal Gallery but in the Agni Kai arena. She looked back at Ozai, holding a fireball in his hands. She tried to harness her own flames to fight back but she could not move. It was as though she were paralyzed by fear. “It is only fair, Azula, that you should share his mark of shame.”
Her lips parted in a scream that made no sound as he hurled his flame towards her face and -
“Princess Azula, wake up! Wake up, Princess!” She shot up in bed, sweat dripping down her brow. She frantically looked around and found she was in her own chambers, the first rays of sunrise peeking in from the balcony and illuminating her Lady’s maid's worried expression. Azula raised her trembling fingers to the left side of her face. It was delicate and smooth, unblemished. “Are you alright? I heard you yelling and came at o – ”
“It is nothing, Tomoko,” she said curtly, steeling herself before the elderly woman’s scrutiny.
Just like Lo and Li, Tomoko was always at Azula’s side. While Lo and Li taught her Fire Bending, Tomoko taught her how to be a lady, a princess who would govern her people justly. It is no surprise which lessons Azula preferred. But while Lo and Li were critical and stern, Tomoko was kind and tender. Azula could recount many instances where she was outright cruel towards her Lady’s maid and yet she remained; an ever-present source of guidance who she came to avoid during the war.
Being a lady was no longer of interest to her at the time. She wanted to be the Fire Lord and learning how to bow just so and play games of politics were insignificant when the Fire Nation would rule the world anyways. How quickly those dreams were dashed. Upon her arrival at the palace, Tomoko was quick to greet her with open arms and welcoming words. Perhaps it was the effect of her time away but Azula could better appreciate such gestures now whereas they seemed frivolous once.
She noticed cheering outside for the first time. “What in the world is all that noise?” she questioned irritatingly as Tomoko wiped her brow with a towel.
“Did you not hear, Princess? The Avatar is arriving today.” Azula’s irritation grew. To think that her own people would one day cheer the arrival of the Avatar. It was unimaginable to her. It would be treachery once upon a time but perhaps even the Fire Nation masses adored the celebrated hero. Azula stood up, tied the sash of her robes, and walked towards the balcony. It was early morning and yet droves of people stood outside the palace gates. Azula followed their gaze upwards and noticed the familiar fluffy beast descending down into the crowd. He was too far to spot but she noticed a tall lithe figure easily descend down from atop the beast’s head and into the crowd. Their cheers grew louder.
Azula watched as the Palace gates opened and her brother walked towards them, stopping halfway between the gate and the entryway. As the gates fully opened and the palace guards held the crowds back, she got her first glimpse of the Avatar.
He was certainly older. Tall and lean yet muscular and, admittedly, walking with the grace and power one would expect of an Avatar. He donned the traditional yellow and orange sashes of the Air Nomads and the hefty beads of a master air bender. The Avatar bowed before the Fire Lord in the traditional Fire Nation way. Her brother bowed back. In her opinion, it was below a Fire Lord to bow before anyone, even the Avatar, but surely her brother had different views on the matter. The mood shifted as they both rose. The Avatar grinned at the Fire Lord, his eyes twinkling with a child-like wonder before they embraced one another. Perhaps he had not aged much after all.
They began walking towards the palace when the Avatar looked up and noticed her perhaps for the first time. It might have been her imagination, but his face seemed to light up at the sight of her. Azula glared back.
“He has grown quite handsome, hasn’t he?” She turned to her side and noticed Tomoko peering over the railing beside her.
“Who?”
“Why the Avatar of course.” Azula granted her an incredulous look, one verging on disgust.
“Perhaps your eyesight has failed you in your old age, Tomoko. Be useful and prepare my bath.”
“Very well, Princess Azula.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
While Azula would accompany Zuko for meals, she did not sit with him and his companions when they visited. In fact, she made a conscious decision to avoid such a blending of friends and family. Not because she feared conflict, no she rather thrived on that, but simply because she could not enjoy her dinner in peace surrounded by watchful eyes and bated breath - everyone expecting her to shoot lightning across the table towards the Fire Lord and take his seat. These fears were not unfounded.
While Zuko tried to be amicable with her, even in the face of her biting words, he knew when to give her space. However, when the Avatar was visiting, she was always requested to join them. Azula quickly learned that each night he was there, she would receive an invitation to join them to eat, and each night she refused.
By the end of Azula’s first year since her return and the Avatar’s fourth visit to the palace, Azula came to habitually refuse the Avatar’s invitations. It was starting to feel like pity.
“The Avatar insists, your Highness,” her attendant had informed her shyly one night.
Azula turned sharply towards the attendant, her fury so evident that the woman flinched. “Not everyone bends to the whim of the Avatar - and certainly not me,” she snarled.
And yet, despite such assertion, she attended that night spurred on by some form of curiosity. She expected, perhaps hoped, that the Avatar wanted a rematch to which she would happily oblige. It would be preferable to some flowery words about being friends and putting the past behind them. Azula was tired of hearing such trivialities. No one could understand the pain of losing a father, an empire, and their very sanity all in one day. Such pain was not simply pushed away, no. It hovered - constantly looming over the mind like a shadow. If such despair plagued anyone with a will weaker than Azula’s, surely they would crumble under the crushing weight of it.
As she sat at the very end of the table before the new Fire Lord and his band of two water tribe peasants, the loud-mouthed Earth Bender, the Kyoshi Warrior, and the Avatar himself, the room fell terribly silent. It did not bother Azula. She sipped at the still-warm tea sitting before her placement, as though everyone else simply was not there.
“Thank you for joining us.” Zuko greeted, cutting through the silence.
“Hey, Princess,” said the Earthbender.
The two from the water tribe and the warrior did not express a verbal welcome so much as slight nods and hesitant waves. Rightfully wary. Azula returned these greetings with an acknowledging glance.
“Princess Azula.” She heard her name from across the table as she brought her cup down from her lips. Amber eyes met cool grays. His were just as intense as hers - seemingly boring into her in a way that made Azula sit straighter though there was no malice behind them. The Avatar smiled at her as though greeting an old friend and not an old enemy. “It’s good to see you again.” There was a soft yet rich timbre to his voice which she was not expecting. It was heavy like a rising storm but smooth like honey.
Azula bit back the urge to say something along the lines of “Wish I could say the same - how’s your back? Still stings, I’d imagine?” She would have been delighted to see a look of insult from him. Instead, she merely responded with a simple, less satisfactory, “Avatar.”
He probably could not stand the thought of anyone not worshiping the ground he walks on and wanted to make a show of his ethereal kindness towards the forlorn Fire Nation princess. Annoyingly, his smile only grew wider, smugger. For what seemed like minutes, their gazes stayed locked on one another. Hers, she was sure, carried a burning dislike; portraying her extreme annoyance in being called here as some show of goodwill. His look, however, she could not fathom. It was almost… curious? Like he was trying to understand her.
“Aang, I specially called in a chef from Omashu,” Zuko interrupted. This pulled them both out of whatever trance they seemed to be under. Azula went back to her tea.
“Oh, what for?”
“You’ll see.” Azula never knew Zuzu to be one for surprises.
The rest of dinner went by filled with reminiscing talks and inside jokes - none of which Azula could relate to of course. Surprisingly, everyone was mostly cordial towards her and by cordial, she means barely acknowledging she was there. The waterbender kept glancing at her every few minutes or so. There was anger, resentment, and distrust in her looks - normally irritating but in this moment, not unwelcome. It was the one thing that seemed… expected. What she did not expect was catching the Avatar’s eyes every once in a while but just the same, she found herself looking at him too.
The Avatar was no longer a boy. His jaw and face were chiseled yet his eyes remained kind. He possessed a defined yet gently sloping nose. His features were strangely soft and delicate while also being strong and sharp. Even his countenance appeared to portray the very balance he was tasked to protect. Curious indeed. Near the end of their meal, the chef from Omashu personally greeted the Avatar and presented to the table their city’s delicacy.
“Egg custard tarts from Omashu, Avatar! I have been told they are your favorite. You have wonderful taste!” the chef praised. The Avatar thanked him, grinning ear from ear as two were placed in front of him. Azula acknowledged what a penchant for sweets he must have. “Please, please no thanks is needed! It is an honor to serve the Avatar and the Fire Lord, as well as the Heroes of the Hundred Year War,” The water tribe peasant seemed to beam at his title.
Azula noticed the way the chef avoided serving her. Ah, of course. The people of Omashu likely did not forget when Azula captured their city in the name of her father - New Ozai. She did not take this insult to heart and was instead preparing to get up and leave.
“I do hope you enjoy the delica -” the chef stopped speaking as a fruit tart was carried along the table atop a swirling pool of wind and landed directly in front of her. Azula looked up at the Avatar who was already enjoying the one tart he had left.
“It’s exactly as I remember it, thank you. But please make sure to serve all guests at the table. The people of Omashu are hospitable enough to do this aren’t they?” He said this lightly and with a smile. There was not a threat in his voice but it was exacting, as though he took it personally.
“O - Of course, Avatar Aang. I apologize, please excuse me…” and he bowed away nervously.
To say the least, Azula was amused. She picked up a small spoonful of this Earth Kingdom specialty, wondering why it would be a favorite of the Avatar. She noted that he was glancing at her from the corner of his eye, perhaps anxious to see her reaction. She has had egg custard tarts before. How could this one be any different, she thought. But as the first bite passed her lips, she blinked in surprise. It was smoother and silkier than any custard her palace chefs had made her but most unique was the crust.
“Mmm. Lychee nuts,” she mused to herself.
“See why it’s my favorite?” He looked at her expectantly.
“I suppose I do.”