Chapter Text
It was the rainy season during the Fire Nation summer months—a time of relentless downpours that flooded cities and inspired fervent prayers to Agni for relief.
The day had begun like any other: stiflingly hot, oppressively humid, with a sun that shone briefly before retreating behind thick clouds. The sky threatened rain, but the Princess gave little thought to the weather. Her mind was preoccupied. That morning, an unshakable discomfort had taken root in her stomach, and her intuition urged her to call for the midwife. Within moments, the palace was abuzz with the news: the Princess was in labor.
Her husband was absent, not by choice but by decree of the Fire Lord, who had dispatched him on an errand. The decision puzzled many; why should a father be barred from witnessing the birth of his first child? Yet no one dared to question the Fire Lord's commands, even when they seemed cruel.
In a room brimming with servants, nurses, healers, and the midwife, the Princess screamed in agony. This was her first birth, and no tales from mothers before her could have prepared her for the searing pain. As much as she had longed to become a mother, in this moment, she doubted she would ever ask for another child.
Hours passed in excruciating struggle. At last, the sound of a baby's cry pierced the air, breaking the tension like a bolt of lightning. The midwife's voice rang with joy.
"It's a boy!" she exclaimed, carefully cleaning the infant before placing him in his mother's trembling arms.
The Princess's heart swelled as she held her son for the first time. His cries softened immediately upon touching her chest, as though he already recognized her warmth. Tears blurred her vision as she ran her fingers through his soft black hair, marveling at the tiny sun-shaped birthmark behind his left ear. Surely, it was a sign of Agni's blessing.
"My baby," she whispered, clutching him closer. In that moment, a silent promise was made: she would protect him with every fiber of her being.
The tender moment was interrupted by a sharp knock at the door. Startled, the Princess gave permission for the visitor to enter. The Great Sage of the Fire Nation stepped into the room, bowing deeply in reverence.
"My Lady, I am overjoyed to see that you and the child are well," he said, his voice steady and solemn. "Agni seems to have blessed the boy, even if he did not show himself on this occasion."
The Princess nodded. "That is good to hear."
"Have you chosen a name for him, or will you wait for your lord husband to return?"
"No need to wait," she replied softly. "His name is Zuko. My husband and I decided before he left."
"A name fit for a prince," the Sage remarked approvingly. "May I hold him to perform his reading?"
Though reluctant, the Princess handed over her son. The Sage cradled the newborn with practiced care, gazing deeply into the child's golden eyes.
"He has a fighting spirit," the Sage observed, his voice low with wonder. "His path will be fraught with trials, and his mastery of fire will not come easily. Yet he will overcome. The future of our nation will rest in his hands."
"What sort of trials?" the Princess asked anxiously.
"I cannot say," the Sage admitted, "but—"
Before he could continue, the Princess cried out, clutching her abdomen. Alarmed, the midwife rushed to her side.
"Another baby is coming!" she exclaimed.
The Princess's eyes widened in shock. "Another?!"
"Yes, My Lady. Now, breathe deeply and push as you did before!"
Summoning every ounce of strength, the Princess pushed through the pain. Outside, the storm clouds broke apart as if by divine intervention, and sunlight poured into the room just as her final scream gave way to the cries of another newborn.
"It's a girl!" the midwife declared, cleaning the infant before placing her in the Princess's arms. Unlike her brother, the baby girl did not quiet down. Her cries grew louder, almost defiant, as if she resented being torn from her sanctuary.
"Shh, my love," the Princess cooed, rocking the child gently. "It's alright."
The midwife offered a reassuring smile. "It’s common for one twin to be more spirited than the other. She will settle soon enough."
But the little princess did not settle. Minutes passed, and her cries only seemed to draw strength from the sunlight streaming into the room. Meanwhile, Zuko slept peacefully, oblivious to the commotion.
Finally, the baby girl began to quiet, exhaustion overtaking her. The Princess sighed in relief and took the opportunity to study her daughter’s face. Unlike most newborns, who were red and wrinkled, this baby had a striking beauty even on her first day of life.
The Great Sage, still holding Zuko, cleared his throat. "My Lady, may I now read the princess?"
The Princess nodded, carefully exchanging her son for her daughter. The Sage held the baby girl, his expression growing tense as he stared into her eyes. His hands trembled slightly—a reaction the Princess had not seen during Zuko’s reading.
"Is something wrong?" she asked, her voice edged with worry.
The Sage hesitated. "No, My Lady," he replied, though his tone betrayed his unease.
Sensing his discomfort, the Princess ordered the room cleared of all but her most trusted guards and a servant. Once they were alone, she turned back to the Sage.
"Tell me the truth," she demanded. "What do you see?"
The Sage exhaled heavily. "Your daughter is extraordinary. She will be the most powerful firebender of her generation."
The Princess's face lit up. "That’s wonderful news!"
“Yes," the Sage said gravely, "but her mind will be... sick."
The Princess’s heart sank. "Sick how? As in slow-witted?"
The Sage hesitated before continuing. "No, she’s incredibly intelligent, overly so. But there will simply be something…wrong, so to put it.”
The princess looked at her baby and felt slight fear for her child. She knew that the readings could have two meanings, but something inside of her knew that the Sage’s words were true. She had seen her husband and her father in law, perhaps her daughter had taken from them but to a more severe degree. Or perhaps she took after her own father’s family. After all, her Aunt Yoko was the ridicule of the town for her strange visions.
“Is there something else you see?” The Princess asked, still sensing some distress in the Sage.
“She will possess unparalleled strength, but her presence near the throne will bring the end of the Fire Nation as we know it.”
The room fell silent. The Princess stared at her daughter, her joy now mingled with fear.
"Do not tell Fire Lord Azulon," she pleaded.
"My Lady, I am bound by honor and duty to report my readings."
"But you know what he will do to her!" the Princess cried. "She’s only a baby!"
The Sage’s expression softened, but his resolve remained firm. "I cannot lie to the Fire Lord."
The new mother frantically looked around, trying to think about what to do with her situation. Tears filled her eyes, knowing that neither her father-in-law nor her husband would have mercy on her child. For them, the life of a babe was insignificant in comparison to Sozin’s great plan.
Then it hit her like a slap in the face. It might not be the best idea, but in her desperation, only one thing came to mind. A plan to save her daughter, even if unconventional and morally grey.
"Great Sage, I beg you—wait three hours before informing the Fire Lord. Please."
The Sage hesitated, understanding her desperation. "I can delay for two hours. No more."
“I am forever in your debt.”
The Sage nodded and stepped forward, bringing the baby princess to her mother’s arms. Wordlessly, the Sage took his leave, closing the door behind him.
Lady Ursa, in desperation, ordered all but one servant and two guards to leave the room. As soon as they followed her orders, she turned to the servant.
“Yika.”
The servant, a young girl of about 20 years of age, stepped forward with her head bowed.
“Yes, My Lady?”
“I have a task for you.”
“Anything, My Lady.”
The new mother looked straight at the servant as she spoke her request.
“Take the Princess out of the Fire Nation and raise her as your own. Hanzo, follow Yika until the harbor to make sure she encounters no problems.”
“As you wish, My Lady.” The taller guard bowed.
Yika raised her head in surprise, daring to look at the Princess in her eyes. “My Lady?”
“I will make sure your family is well compensated, do not worry.”
“How can I do such a thing? The Princess–”
“Will die if she stays here.” The new mother finished the sentence, cutting off the servant. “Leave with her and settle somewhere far away from the war. Learn how to live in peace, and nurture her in my absence.”
There were tears coming out of the Princess’s eyes as she spoke to the servant. Her twins, one in each arm, nuzzled close to her as she spoke. This would be the first and last time she held them together.
“Please take her.” The Princess cried as she spoke. The servant, with shaking hands, reached forward and grabbed the baby princess. She didn’t weigh much, but surprisingly she wasn't a frail baby. One look into her eyes and Yika could tell that the Fire Sage had not been lying during the reading.
“I will honor your request, Lady Ursa.” Yika bowed, careful not to make a movement too sharp so the baby wouldn’t fuzz.
She turned to walk away, but the Princess’ voice stopped her. “Wait! Let me, let me say goodbye.”
The servant stepped towards Lady Ursa, who had full tears streaming down her eyes. Balancing Prince Zuko with one hand, she gently caressed the baby princess’ face with the other.
“I’m so sorry I have to do this. There wasn’t enough time to create a perfect plan, but at least I hope this will save your life.” She could barely speak on account of the tears. With as much strength as possible, Lady Ursa gave a gentle kiss on the princess’ head, where she noticed a similar birthmark on the baby as her brother’s. “Always remember who you are. I love you, Azula, I always will.”
With a final caress, Lady Ursa signaled Yika the servant to leave.
"Hanzo, make sure Yika reaches the harbor safely with the princess."
One of the guards bowed as he heard the order. "Yes, My Lady."
As they left with the baby princess hidden, the remaining guard stepped forward. He didn’t dare look directly at the princess, but knew that she recognized his presence.
“Shok.”
“Yes, My Lady.”
“Find a baby to replace Princess Azula. I don’t care where you get it, just get one within the hour.”
“It will be done. And what of the servants?”
“Excuse me?”
Shok spoke up. “Rumors might spread that Yika, the only servant to stay behind, disappeared around the same time the Princess suffered her fate.”
“What are you suggesting?”
“I can arrange some of my most trusted guards to silence them permanently.”
“No,” the Princess shook her head. “Too much bloodshed will create more rumors.”
“Then, what do you suggest, My Lady?”
“I will silence them during dinner time.”
The guard nodded, bowing once again and heading out the door with his mission in mind.
In another section of the palace but not too far away, Yika clutched the baby tightly as she made her way through the dimly lit halls, her heart pounding in her chest. Hanzo walked beside her, his imposing presence a shield against any who might question their movements. They moved quickly but cautiously, the soft sound of their footsteps blending into the distant hum of palace activity.
As they neared the servants' exit that led toward the docks, Yika froze at the sound of a familiar voice.
“Yika. Hanzo.”
General Iroh’s calm, measured tone echoed through the corridor. Both froze in place, Yika’s grip on the baby tightening instinctively. They turned slowly to face him, Yika lowering her head in a deep bow, her pulse thundering in her ears.
“My Lord,” she said, her voice trembling.
Hanzo immediately bowed as well, his posture stiff but controlled. “General Iroh.”
Iroh’s gaze lingered on them for a moment, his sharp eyes noting the tension in Yika’s posture and the bundle she cradled so protectively. He stepped closer, his presence commanding but not hostile. “Where are you going with such urgency?”
Yika swallowed hard, her mind scrambling for an answer. “My Lord, I…” She hesitated, glancing at Hanzo, who remained silent but watchful.
“We were instructed to… deliver this to a healer,” she finally said, her voice wavering as she gestured vaguely to the bundle in her arms. “A sick child found among the servants.”
Iroh raised an eyebrow, his expression unreadable. He stepped closer, his gaze piercing as he looked directly at Yika. “A sick child?” he repeated, his tone gentle but probing. “May I see?”
Yika stiffened, her breath catching in her throat. “There is no need, my Lord,” she said quickly. “The child is… fragile, and the healer is expecting us.”
Iroh tilted his head slightly, his calm demeanor unshaken. “Yika,” he said softly, “you are a loyal servant. But you are also a terrible liar.”
Yika’s knees nearly buckled under the weight of his words. She lowered her head further, clutching the baby tighter as her mind raced. Before she could stammer out another excuse, Hanzo stepped forward.
“With respect, General,” Hanzo said, his voice steady, “we were given direct orders from Lady Ursa. We must not delay.”
Iroh’s expression flickered for the briefest moment at the mention of his sister-in-law’s name. His gaze shifted between the two of them, lingering on Yika’s trembling form.
“Orders from Lady Ursa,” he repeated slowly. “I see.”
The hallway fell into an uneasy silence. Iroh’s sharp mind worked quickly, piecing together the fragments of what he had observed—the protective way Yika held the child, Hanzo’s unwavering loyalty, and the mention of Ursa.
He sighed, his expression softening. “Come with me,” he said finally, turning and walking back the way he had come.
Yika and Hanzo exchanged a glance but obeyed, following him in silence. Iroh led them through the winding corridors of the palace until they reached his private quarters. He opened the door and gestured for them to enter.
“Wait here,” he said.
Yika shifted nervously, glancing down at the baby in her arms. Hanzo stood at attention, his hands ready to firebend if the situation turned sour.
After a few moments, Iroh returned, holding a small, ornate object in his hands. It was a Fire Nation headpiece, its design remarkable, with two flames parallel to each other.
“This,” Iroh said quietly, “belonged to one of the greatest firebenders in history. A symbol of wisdom and balance. Lady Ursa would want her daughter to carry that legacy, even if she cannot be here to see it.”
He stepped closer to Yika, his expression warm but serious, and gently tucked the headpiece into the blanket that swaddled the baby.
“She is too young to understand its meaning now,” Iroh said, his voice soft. “But one day, she will. Keep it safe for her.”
Yika stared at him, her eyes brimming with tears. “Thank you, my Lord,” she whispered.
Iroh gave a faint smile, then straightened, his demeanor shifting back to one of quiet authority. “Follow me. The main exits are too risky, but there is another way.”
He led them to a tapestry-covered wall at the far end of his quarters. Using his firebending close to the wall, he revealed a hidden passage. The air was cool and damp, and the narrow staircase beyond descended into darkness.
“This passage leads to a hidden cove near the harbor,” Iroh explained. “Few know of its existence. You should encounter no one on the way.”
Hanzo nodded. “You have my gratitude, General.”
Iroh placed a hand on Hanzo’s shoulder. “Protect them with your life,” he said firmly.
Hanzo met his gaze. “I will.”
The journey through the hidden passage was silent but swift, and they emerged at the edge of a secluded cove. Hanzo helped Yika into a boat that sat abandoned and handed her the oars.
“There is a commercial ship just beyond the cove,” he said. “Try to get on it. This is as far as I can go.”
Yika looked up at him, her eyes filled with gratitude. “Thank you, Hanzo. For everything.”
Hanzo gave a small nod, his expression unreadable. “Go,” he said. “And may Agni watch over you both.”
As the boat drifted away from the shore, Yika looked down at the baby in her arms, then at the headpiece tucked into her blanket. She pressed a kiss to the baby’s forehead.
“Azula,” she murmured. “You are so loved. And one day, you will understand why we did this.”
The baby cooed softly, and Yika smiled through her tears as the Fire Nation faded into the distance behind her.