Chapter Text
“It pains me to admit this…” His jaw clenches, his right hand forming a fist on the arm of the throne. “But I need you, Azula.”
His sister doesn’t seem to pay him any attention. She sits in her wheelchair, dressed in a straitjacket, her legs bound together with chains, blowing at a strand of hair that has fallen across her nose as if it were the most interesting thing in the world. Her expression looks almost childishly vacant.
He frowns and tries again. “Azula…”
Still no reaction.
He nods to the nurse, who grabs his sister’s jaw and forcibly tilts her head up. She finally looks at him, disinterested, but asks a question nonetheless.
“How long?” Her voice is raw, nothing like he remembers.
“What?”
“Since THAT day.”
“Almost four years,” he breathes out.
She nods, and her face finally turns serious. “Why now?”
“I have time now. Before, it was impossible — too much work. But Fa… Ozai still refuses to share any information.”
“I see,” she replies nonchalantly.
“So, are you going to help or not?” he asks impatiently.
“Hmm?” She looks at him strangely.
He feels anger begin to boil in his throat. “I need you to talk to Ozai. I need information about where to find my mother, or at least what happened to her.”
“Oh, that.” She makes an exaggerated “thinking” face. “No, Zuko, I’m not going to help you.”
He finally snaps and rises from his throne, walking toward her with clenched fists, smoke curling from them. Azula bursts into uncontrollable laughter. The nurses hold her in place, one of them waving the muzzle in front of her face — a silent invitation to shut up and behave.
Zuko looms over her, “That’s an order,” he hisses, holding back his anger as best as he can. Perhaps he is afraid of being locked up in here… with her.
“Oh? And why would I follow it?” she scoffs.
“I’m your Fire Lord.” Zuko grips the arms of her wheelchair, forcing her further to press back into it.
“You’re nothing to me.” She spits in his face, and he immediately steps back.
“I can make your life more comfortable — or much worse. Think about it. Besides, she’s your mother too…”
“You threw away your last bit of leverage over me when you asked that monk boy to take away my bending. You’ve always been short-sighted, Zuko. Never thinking before doing something. It’s a mystery how you’re still alive.” She shrugs dismissively.
He studies her face as if trying to read her mind, but her expression remains blank. Perhaps Azula has already grown tired of the little game she started with him minutes ago.
“I can always ask him to give it back…?”
“Is that a question?”
“Forget it,” he snarls. “Why did I even think talking to you was a good idea? Mai was right. This is a waste of time.”
“Oh, you’re really THAT desperate. I’m almost touched that I’m your last hope.” She rolls her eyes.
An uncomfortable silence hangs between them for several moments. He stands with his back to her, breathing heavily, while her eyes dart around as he begins to walk away, calling for the guards.
“Ugh, fine…” she finally blurts out. “I’ll help you.”
“Really?” There is so much hope in his eyes that she almost pities him.
Almost.
“Really.” Her tone and expression remain completely serious. Perhaps, finally, there is some hope for her too.