NOTES: Sokkla prequel/sequel(ish) to Addicted to Love, which I have not finished yet…but will tackle this week. I just wanted to get this story started and tease you guys with what's to come.

AUGUST:

PROLOGUE:

Fire. Everywhere she turned, there was fire. Burning. Insatiable. It ate the ground, the trees igniting with a sickening whoosh and pop. She could feel her eyelashes singeing, her skin tightening from the heat as it roared around her like a living thing.

There was blood steaming on the ground at her feet. She looked down at the burning body there, at the green eye staring sightlessly up at her. It boiled and burst as the wind of the fire picked up her hair, twisting it around her face.

As if in a dream, she turned away from the body. She could hear screaming. There was pain and panic in the voice as it rose above the ravenous sound of the inferno.

There were people on fire, rolling, trying to put it out. Numb, consumed by the flames, she watched them dispassionately as they fell one by one. She felt nothing. Not fear or pity.

She was hollow inside; a void in which nothing could survive. There was only the fire.

Then, like a knife slash across the throat, the shrill sound of something crying in shocked pain rang throughout the blazing clearing. It rattled her in its incongruousness. Where had she heard that sound before?

"HELP! HELP ME, PLEASE! PLEASE, MY SON!"

The desperate scream broke through the mindless burning numbness like a punch in the gut. Her knees weakened, her swollen right eye squeezing tightly shut as comprehension dawned on her. It was a baby, screaming in pain. Screaming for his mother as the flames came ever closer…

She breathed out, tasting ashes and her own bile.

This wasn't a dream. This was real.

It was really happening.

She turned toward the cheerfully-painted wagon, its yellow and green paint blistering as fire engulfed it. A woman, her dress on fire, threw herself at the covered wagon's burning door, ramming her shoulder into it. The wood gave and she clamored up into it, even as smoke and fire came roiling out.

"No…don't…" she whispered, a single tear steaming as it rolled down her bruised and bloodied cheek. "I'm so sorry…"

The shrill screams cut off with a tiny choked cough, followed by an animal-like bellow of pain and horror, so deep and so devastating that it dropped her to her knees where she stood. The next moment, the wagon's roof caved in, sending sparks and a massive gout of orange and red fire licking at the pitch-black sky.

The fire roared around her but didn't touch her. Soon nothing moved except the flames. The stench of burned flesh choked the air, black and white ash raining down like snow.

"What have I done?" Azula whispered in horror, staring at her soot-covered hands, at the blood streaking her palms. "My fault. It's my fault… My fault…"

There was no one there to listen, and no one there to care.

And still, the fire burned on.

MARCH:

A Year and a Half Later

"No!" Azula exclaimed, sitting up with a gasp. She stared into the darkened room, sweat pouring down her face and making her threadbare nightdress cling to her skin. Disoriented, she stared around the small, dank-smelling room, trying to make sense of the world again, but she was lost in the dream, in the heat and misery.

Eventually, she took a deep breath and forced herself to relax her shoulders. Her shaking hands lifted, smoothing her dark hair back from her clammy face. She felt sick to her stomach, but pushed the urge to vomit back with a dry swallow. She buried her face in her palm, heaving out ragged breaths that tasted of ash.

"My fault," she muttered as the room spun around her. Eventually the dream faded to a dark whimper in the back of her mind, where it festered. She was used to pushing it back by now, though other memories shook her to her core.

Hands. Holding her down. A blow to the head. Dirt in her bloody mouth. Laughter. Pain. And worst of all, a feeling of helplessness as she sank into unconsciousness…

"NO!" she snarled, throwing off the thin blankets and lurching to her feet. Unsteady, she grasped the wall to keep herself upright. She took another deep breath and glanced at the window. Dawn was breaking, the light gray and thin. The ragged edges of winter frosted the grimy glass, promising a bitter day, with winds that would howl through the skeletal trees, and snake insidiously into her inadequate clothing, numbing her to the bone.

She grabbed her dirt-grimed pack, stuffed beneath the foot of the bed, and dumped her meager belongings out on the bed. A bag of coins, a brush, two sets of clothing and underclothes, a green silk robe with a scorch mark on the hem, a toothbrush, gloves, a small knife, three bruised apples, and a folded square of linen. She took up the knife, and the linen, sitting down on the floor near the window.

She turned her forearm upward, eyeing the neat row of scars shine in the dim light. A few were scabbed over and half-healed. One was fresh and tender. She prodded it, mouth pressed to a thin line.

She took up the knife, pressing its thin blade to the skin just below the freshest cut. She closed her eyes for a moment, remembering the dream, the screams. She felt the tip of the knife puncture the skin and bit down on her lip. Slowly, she pulled the knife across her skin, opening it with a shallow scrape. Blood welled up, but she immediately pressed the cloth against it, gasping as the pain radiated throughout her body.

It was a balm on her nerves, something physical to keep her in the here and now. The taste of ashes faded from her tongue as blood soaked the cloth. She flexed her hand, rocking back and forth on the hard wooden floor, lower lip trembling.

She finally pulled the bloodied cloth back and ignited a fire an inch from her index finger. She dragged the fire across the cut, letting out a little exclamation of pain as the wound was cauterized and cleansed.

"My fault… My fault…" she said, rocking, letting the pain spiral through her, ground her, hold her. She would cling to it all day, pressing her thumbs into the cut to keep it fresh. She needed it.

She deserved it.

Shaking, Azula rinsed the cloth in the little washstand in the corner, ringing out the pink water and then dumping it out the window. Then she pulled on her clothes, stuffing everything back into her pack. Her hand lingered on the small bag of coins she'd earned on her last job guarding a caravan of spice traders. There wasn't much left. If she didn't find another job soon, she'd be sleeping in the forest again, stealing from farms and villages.

Azula shoved the coins back into her pack and slung it over her shoulder. Then she opened the door to her cramped little room, one of three above an inn on the road to Omashu.

The innkeeper was already tending the fire when she walked down the stairs. The smell of eggs, porridge and tea filled the air, making her stomach growl. She wanted to get on the road as soon as possible, but decided that breakfast was probably a good idea; who knew when she'd get her next meal?

"What can I do for you?" the innkeeper, a slight, balding man with a wide belly asked her warily. He reminded her forcibly of her Uncle Iroh, which did nothing to endear the man to her. Guilt suffused her as she turned her topaz eyes on him, staring wordlessly as the room shifted around her. She heard whispering behind her, but ignored it, as she always did when she heard it. "Would you…uh…like some breakfast, miss?"

Azula found her tongue with difficulty. "Yes."

He smiled tightlipped at her and walked over to the massive black kettle of porridge. He ladled out a large bowl, tossed a handful of berries onto it, then drizzled dark maple syrup over the whole mess. He set the bowl in front of her, along with a wooden spoon.

"The eggs'll be just a moment, miss. Can I get you some tea?"

"Yes…. Please," she said with difficulty, digging into the porridge. It was warm and sweet and she savored each bite of the plain fare. The gnawing emptiness in her stomach, which never seemed to go away these days, appreciated the warm mess. She bent over the bowl as he set a cup of steaming black tea in front of her, and then went back to the stove. She listened to him cooking, closing her eyes with each bite.

The front door of the inn opened, letting in a swirl of bitterly cold air and two figures dressed in long cloaks, the hoods up over their faces. Azula glanced at them, stiffening at the sudden intrusion.

"I'll be with you in just a moment!" the innkeeper called cheerfully, probably glad to have company other than her to deal with. Azula took another bite and watched them out the corner of her eye, one hand on her pack and the precious collection of coins there.

One of the figures leaned in to the other and whispered something, then gestured toward the table where Azula was sitting. She took a drink of her tea, her heart pounding now. Slowly, the hooded strangers approached her, just as the innkeeper set a plate of eggs and a hunk of buttered bread in front of her.

Azula looked up at him as he smiled at her.

"How much?" she mumbled.

"No charge. You look half-starved, sweetheart," he said, reaching out and touching her shoulder.

Her jaw tightened and she lifted her chin, glaring at him. She knocked his hand away with a swift swipe of her arm. "Touch me again and you'll lose your fucking hand. And don't call me sweetheart."

He blinked at her and backed up a step. "Of course not, sorry. I didn't mean… Sorry!"

"You'll have to forgive her. Azula's never been very good with people," a husky, drawling voice said behind her. It was like ice water down her back.

Azula dropped her spoon, whirling around in her chair, her hand lifting as fire bloomed from her fist. She swung at the cloaked figure behind her, but the woman danced easily out of the way, blocking the volley of fire she shot at her with a gloved hand.

She launched herself out of the chair as the woman slipped two wicked, curved red daggers out of her sleeve and threw them in Azula's direction. She immediately tucked into a roll and tumbled across the floor, feeling the daggers slice through the hair inches from her shoulders. She flipped onto her hands, shooting off fire from the bottoms of her feet with a concussive blast that set a tapestry on fire and sent both hooded intruders scrambling to get out of the way.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!" the innkeeper exclaimed frantically.

"Stay out of this, old man!" Azula shot at him.

"I came here to talk, Azula!" Mai said, grasping her hood and shoving it down. Her teeth were clenched, her eyes narrowed as she glared at her. The years hadn't changed her much. Her shiny black hair was shorter, tucked into a bun at the back of her head. She seemed thinner and taller now, with a certain harshness to the set of her mouth that had once been caused by boredom, but seemed now to be steeped in stress.

"I have nothing to say to you!" Azula hissed from her crouch on the floor. She eyed the three stilettoes in Mai's gloved hand. "Awful lot of weaponry from someone who wants to talk."

"Well, you know how it is with old friends."

"We're not friends."

"We were once," Mai said tightly and then glanced at her companion. "You're a hard woman to track down."

"Good. I like it that way," she snarled. "Now leave me alone!"

"Oh for fuck's sakes," Mai's companion said with an exasperated sigh, pushing off of the doorframe and getting in between them. "Enough with the standoff. Nyla didn't drag our asses a thousand miles across the Earth Kingdom for a fucking firefight."

"June, I can handle this," Mai snapped.

"Yeah, you look like you're handling it just fine," June said, her lips twisting as she turned back to Azula, pulling a bamboo shooter out of her pocket. "Look, Princess Nutso, I've got a shirshu-spit dart in this thing. Either you put up the fire and listen to what the lady has to say while you finish your breakfast, or I shoot you with it and you listen to what the lady has to say while you drool on the floor. The choice is yours."

"Try it, bitch," Azula snarled, lifting her fist, preparing to send a volley of fire at the bounty hunter. The next moment, she felt a prick of pain in her leg and looked stupidly down at the dart in her thigh. "Fuck."

Her limbs went numb as the flames died. All of the tension ran out of her body as the shirshu poison shot through her like lightning. She collapsed onto her face, suddenly unable to move. June rolled her over onto her back and stood over her with a smug grin on her red lips.

"Word to the wise, don't ever call me bitch. Sweetheart," June said, waving the shooter at her. Then she looked at Mai with a quirked eyebrow. "She's all yours."

"Thanks, June," Mai groused, stowing her weapons back into her sleeves. She crouched down next to Azula and pulled the dart out of her leg, tossing it aside as she surveyed her grimly. "You always have to do things the hard way, don't you, Azula?"

"Fuck you."

"And you've gotten a mouth on you. What have these peasants taught you?" Mai said, grasping her by the collar of her shirt and hauling her bonelessly into a sitting position. "I just came to talk. I think you need to hear what I have to say, so listen up."

"I don't know what's going on here, or who you people are, but I can't have you attacking my customers and setting the place on fire! You need to leave!" the innkeeper declared, rushing past them and ripping the burning tapestry off of the wall. He stomped on it a few times to put the flames out.

"June?"

June sighed again and tossed a bag of gold at the man's feet. He picked it up and looked inside with wide eyes, whistling through his teeth as he lifted a coin to the light. Then he straightened, tucking the bag into his sleeve. "You have an hour."

He exited the room with haste, leaving the three of them alone. Together Mai and June hauled her up into a chair and set her firmly in it. Her head lolled on her shoulders as she struggled to move her limbs, but they were unresponsive. She was trapped.

Narrowing her eyes, she watched as June grabbed her abandoned plate of eggs and started eating as if she hadn't a care in the world.

"You're probably wondering what I'm doing here," Mai said, watching her as she crossed her arms across her chest and sat back in her chair. "And I'll be frank, it wasn't my idea."

"Did Zuzu send you?" she said through her thick tongue. Mai's lips tightened to a thin line. "Is there a bounty on me?"

"No, he didn't. He doesn't know I'm here. In fact, he and I broke up a while ago."

"My condolences," Azula snorted, trying to wiggle her toes, but it didn't feel like they were even attached at the moment. "So what do you want?"

Mai glanced at June, who was tearing large hunks of the bread off with her teeth, looking utterly unconcerned with the conversation. Mai turned back to her with sober eyes. "I was sent to recruit you by an organization called the Smoke Demons. They're basically an underground terrorist cell, with spies, assassins and agents in the Earth Kingdom and the Fire Nation. They recruited me a year ago and I've risen through the ranks as a spy. Their ultimate goal is to take down the Harmony Restoration Movement, cripple the Fire Nation, depose Zuko and build a new nation from the ashes."

"You joined a terrorist cell dedicated to taking out your ex-boyfriend?" she slurred. "Fuck, how bad was your breakup?"

"I know, right? Then again, I'm not surprised. Scarface always was a real charmer," June commiserated, slurping Azula's tea. Mai made an aggravated sound and glared at the two of them.

"Anyway, I started off doing low-level stuff. Spying, information gathering. They're attempting to take over the army and I know for a fact that there is at least one spy in the Royal Palace right now and probably more than that, though I don't know who they are. The Smoke Demons are secretive, even within their own organization. There seem to be layers upon layers of connections, each one leading to a higher tier within the organization. No one ever has the whole story when it comes to information; they give it out piece-meal. I get all of my orders from three people, who get their orders from other people, who get it from other people, and on and on up the chain. I haven't ascertained who's in charge yet."

There was a gleam in her eye, an edge that denoted determination. Azula's eyes narrowed, the corners of her lips just managing a curl before falling slack again.

"They sent me here to recruit you, Azula. I personally advised against it."

"Why's that?"

"I told them that you were unstable, untrustworthy, self-centered, evil and that you didn't take orders well. They insisted that you were necessary to their plans though. Personally, I think they want to use you to get close to Zuko."

"I'm not close to Zuko. I haven't seen him in years."

"But you are his only sister. If you came back into his life, he'd welcome you."

"He'd never trust me."

"Not if he's smart, he won't," Mai said snidely. "But Zuko has this stupid thing he does. He wants to believe in the goodness of people. I blame Aang for that. If you came back into his life, he'd allow it. And you could kill him when his guard was down. Just like you've always wanted."

"And why would I want to kill him?"

"Because you're still the princess of the Fire Nation. He's unmarried and childless—"

"No thanks to you."

Mai's fist tightened on the tabletop. "Zuko has no heirs. If he's dead, the crown is yours. He's never disinherited you or banished you from the Fire Nation. Legally, you're still his successor."

Azula stared at her old friend. "I don't want the throne."

Mai's eyebrows lifted into her thick black fringe. "That's a different tune than the one you used to sing."

"I just want to be left alone, Mai. I'm doing fine on my own."

Mai glanced around the shabby little inn, and then eyed her threadbare clothing with a knowing expression. "Yes, I can see that. Doing guard jobs for trader's caravans is definitely the life you had planned for yourself. Not to mention the incidents which seem to follow you wherever you go?"

"Don't—"

"Like that fight in Shinlin Village? Or what happened in Bakchang? Or that fire in the Forest of Wei?"

"SHUT UP!" Azula screamed, her paralyzed body breaking into a hard sweat. She could feel panic rising up through her, blinding, choking. She wanted to sink away, to disappear. She could feel the heat of the flames creeping up on her. The screams of the mother and her baby echoed in her ears, reverberating through her soul.

"Face it, Azula. You're nothing but trouble, a sad, crazy woman with nowhere to go and nothing to look forward to. If you killed yourself tomorrow no one would care," Mai said softly as Azula swallowed back the rage inside of her, feeling Mai's words echoing through her body, smashing through her rage with a bleak, blunt force trauma.

Her thoughts ran in devastated little circles, the whispers in her head growing louder and louder until she could barely hear Mai over their shouting. She just wanted it to stop. She wanted something to grasp. She could no longer feel the pain in her arm from her cuts. She wanted it. Needed it…

"The Smoke Demons can give you a mission, Azula, a purpose. They'll take care of you. Feed you, clothe you, and put you on the throne. All you have to do is kill your brother."

"And why do you want Zuko dead?"

"Because he doesn't deserve to be on the throne. He's an usurper. The Fire Nation needs strong leadership, not a puppet government installed by the Avatar," Mai said automatically, the words coming out of her as if she'd memorized them. It was clearly the Smoke Demons party line.

Azula blinked, swallowing back the saliva that was collecting in her slackened mouth. Her gaze narrowed on Mai. She noted the tense way the woman was holding her shoulders, the sweat on her temples, the hardness of her eyes.

Mai was nervous. Scared, in fact. And she was lying.

"Answer me one question," she asked slowly. "Why did Zuko break up with you?"

"What makes you think he broke up with me?" she snapped in reply.

"Why else would you be so pissed off at him that you want him dead?"

Mai's pale face flushed a little and she looked away. "I broke up with him."

"Why?"

"That's personal and irrelevant."

"Answer the question, Mai."

Mai was quiet for a moment and then her eyes flicked back to Azula. "We fought all of the time, okay?"

"Actually, what you said was, 'I loved him, but I couldn't stand to be around him anymore because I felt suffocated.' She also thinks he's fucking his bodyguard now," June said pointedly. "Are we almost finished? I want to get on the road before those rainclouds get here."

"Yes, thank you, June," Mai said, her lip curling. Azula stared at her, waiting. "Why do you want to know?"

"Why are you terrified that I'll say yes and join the Smoke Demons?" Azula asked, shifting in the seat. She was starting to get some feeling back in her fingertips, but the rest of her was still dead weight.

"I'm not—"

"You are. I can see it. You're here because you have to be, but you've done your best to attack and insult me, hoping that I'll be so angry I'll refuse out of some stubborn, wounded pride. You know me all too well, Mai. You know how I tick."

Mai barked a humorless laugh and slung her arm over the back of her seat, leaning to the side. Azula didn't miss the way she was fingering her red-bladed sai. "I used to know you, Azula. But that was before you lost your mind. There's something broken about you. I can see it in your eyes. It's even worse than before, when Zuko put you in that institution. You think I'm scared? No. I look at you, and I've never seen anyone more terrified in my life. What happened to you?"

Azula inhaled sharply and glanced at June, but the woman was busy cleaning her nails, looking bored at the conversation. Her eyes flicked back to Mai.

"I'm not going to kill Zuko."

"Why not?" Mai insisted, leaning toward Azula, fist clenched.

Yes, why not? A voice in her head asked, but she shoved it down. She didn't know how to answer that question, really. There had been a time in her life when she'd wanted that, because her father had wanted that. She remembered that last Agni Kai, when she'd felt everything slipping out of her grasp. When she'd wanted nothing more than to watch the world burn, and Zuko with it. At least in the flames, things had made sense. The black and white, clearly defined parameters were easy to understand. But things were confusing now. The hatred she'd felt for her brother was a faded thing, a discarded childhood plaything that moldered in the corners of her confused and fractured mind, mixed in with guilt and anger at herself…her mother…her father…

She had been gone for years now, adrift, working her way through a world that feared her. And well it should. She was dangerous, unstable…all of the things Mai had said. And more. So much more that no one could ever know… The daily nightmare of her life was unspeakable.

"I don't need a reason. I just won't. I won't betray him, so go fuck yourself, Mai."

Mai tilted her head, eyeing her with a gleam of approval in her gaze. Slowly a smile curved her lips. "I was hoping you'd say that."

"You're a double agent, aren't you?" Azula said, already knowing the answer.

Mai nodded and studied her face for a long moment. "The Smoke Demons think I'm loyal to them, but I've been working to take them down since they recruited me. They recruited June too, but I paid her off to change sides."

"What can I say? I go where the money is," June said with a smirk.

"And you wanted to recruit me to help you too?"

"Hell no. I told you, it was the suggestion of someone high up. I think its part of their plan, although I'm not sure what that is yet, exactly. I thought you'd jump at the chance to kill Zuko and I was afraid you'd accept the offer and make things even more complicated. Still am, to be honest."

"Does Zuko know you're working for these people?"

"No. I can't risk telling him in case the spy in the palace finds out."

"I want to help."

Mai's eyebrow lifted in surprise. "Why?"

She hesitated and then said the first thing that came to mind. "Boredom, mostly."

Mai shook her head, as if not believing her. "Can I trust you, Azula?"

Azula smiled and moved her hand a little bit. The paralysis was starting to wear off finally. She shrugged as much as she was able. "I guess we'll find out."