Title: Brother Dear

Rating: K+

Words: 1220

Summary: Azula was used to seeing her mother in the corners of her eyes, ranting about love and apologies. This was the first and last time that she saw her brother Zuko instead. Submission for the February Competition at the A:tLAFC forum.

a/n: Another writing competition. The prompt this time was to write about someone's death, but from their POV. Azula's always been close to my heart and I found her exit from the series rather unfulfilling. So much left unsolved! This only brushes the surface, but I hope you enjoy this short piece.

OOO

Brother Dear

OOO

Azula was visited by Ursa and Noriko. They were different people: the Ursa who swore that she loved her daughter so much, and the familiar stranger who apologized for not having loved her daughter enough.

Oftentimes, they'd appear separately, and Azula was unsure of who to believe. Other times, their faces would meld together into one person that couldn't give Azula a straight answer. That was when Azula broke things, burned things, screamed at things, willed her body to pump out more anger and pump out more frustration. Anger and frustration fueled her resolve-fueled her bending. It was all she had when she was younger and it served her well.

But her aging body couldn't keep up with the manic fragility of her mind. So when her mother came, she either listened or turned her back. There wasn't much else she was capable of anymore.

Turning, listening, and thinking.

When her mother was gone, thoughts skimmed over her father. There wasn't much to say of the man. He was robbed, as she was robbed. They were both rotting away somewhere, listening to ghosts and whispers in their solitude because the ones they wanted help from wouldn't come, and the ones they didn't want help from were spurned away.

So she often thought of her older brother-that weak fool who recently handed the Fire Lord's crown over to his equally weak daughter (the irony of having once been the daughter whose father had also given her that crown was not lost on her). She was horrified that at the end of the day, no matter what she thought of Zuko, he had won and she had not. He couldn't be angry with her. He couldn't hand over his damned destiny. He had grown enough without her to know that, and it made her fingertips spark with latent electricity to realize that despite everything she thought of him, he was honored with a country, and she was honored with a cell.

Her younger self would have thought it a complete injustice, and would have thought it possible to snatch back.

But years had passed and that opportunity had never been close enough to fantasize about. It took many years-many years filled with denial and false hope-but eventually the thought of returning to the Fire Nation with honor and dignity was an impossibility.

When she was very tired and so drained from hearing her mother's words, she'd realize that this was probably how Zuko felt when he was banished.

Sometimes it felt as if it was one of those very rare times when they felt quite close-on a familial level that no one else in the world understood.

Really, who else had stood by her in the end? Her mother failed her. Her father was a failure. Zuko had defended her, kept her safe, and honored her wishes.

It disgusted her, but it wasn't any less truthful.

It was why there was something scary about the evening when Zuko appeared instead of her mother. In reality, she imagined he currently looked a lot like she did now-old joints, greying hair, dull eyes, tired body. But in front of her, he looked like the young Fire Lord who had desperately tried to bring his little sister into the light she refused to see. He did not done any of his Fire Lord regalia as he sat on the chair by her bedside. He was dressed simply-like the quiet, noble prince that she always found reading instead of training, drawing instead of studying, smiling at his mother instead of sneering at the world. It was the first time in her entire life that she looked upon the scar on his face and actually thought it made him seem handsome.

He smiled fondly at her. "You still look the same. Same sharp eyes, same lips. Mother always said you were blessed with rare beauty."

Azula turned her head towards the ceiling. "Pleasantries will get you nowhere, brother."

She saw Zuko shake his head out of the corner of her eye. "I would never lie to you. I never have lied to you."

Azula was sure she could scrounge together a contradiction, but it was difficult to focus on that when her brother was staring at her like a dying rose. "You have reason to."

"Do I?" Zuko asked her. Azula scoffed, and Zuko laughed in return. "Yes, I suppose I do."

Always so kind and so pleasant. Zuko would never dare to drop a word of disrespect or attempt to sully someone's name. Perhaps his anger and shame had soiled that quality during his banishment, but once he was crowned, it was as if he reverted back into the prince he was always meant to be. Azula wanted it to make her filled with rage, but now it was pleasantly familiar, and Azula appreciated seeing her brother as he was and not as two different people saying two different things and making her so confused.

Azula simply stared at him for a long while, appraising her brother whom she hadn't seen in decades. He didn't seem to mind-of course he wouldn't, after all was he even there?-and let her continue her study until she asked, "Why don't you think you have reason?"

Zuko turned his gaze to the floor, looking forlorn for a split second, and then reverting back into a calm thoughtfulness. He leaned forward in his chair, bracing his elbows against his knees, and smiled warmly at her.

"Big brothers are always supposed to defend their little sisters," Zuko answered simply. "Perhaps that wasn't so clear during the war, but now I know it to be true. I could never find a reason to lie or hate you, Azula. I often hope that you feel the same."

Azula's heart instinctively wanted to believe those words and pull them into herself to make all of the confusion for her mother go away so that she could at least have some definitive, positive feeling towards her family. Before, it would have been a weak admission that she wouldn't have cared to entertain. Azula wasn't a fool. She knew what was soon approaching. Perhaps this would be all she would have left before that moment finally happened.

But of course, she couldn't believe. Because Zuko wasn't really there, and Azula was all alone. There was no telling what her brother thought of her. She ran away before she could ever know, and now she'll truly never know.

She endured the painful tugging her heart experienced at this realization, and she nobly exhaled as the pain burned, fizzled, and died. Her father did always tell her to never entertain doubt or guilt. They were emotions that slowed you down. Azula had to agree with that once again.

Azula shut her eyes and folded her hands on her stomach. There was rain outside. The wooden floors were creaking. The candle at her bedside was still flickering on. Her mother was gone. Zuko was gone. It was just her: Princess Azula sitting in her bed, waiting instead of finding, submitting instead of attacking.

It was a strange feeling, but not one she had the time to enjoy for very long. Eventually, her consciousness slipped and the feeling disappeared.

Then, nothing.