Disclaimer: I don't own anything in the Avatar franchise, nor do I make a profit from writing about it.

Tags: Incest, politics, violence, spirituality, alternate universe, "Zucest".

(AN): I'm a terrible person. Ah well.

Thunder crashed, the white flare of lightning illuminating the corners of his room, and Zuko jolted awake. Blinking blearily, the six year old Fire Nation Prince scowled up at the ceiling in distaste at the electrical cacophony and rolled over in search of a comfortable position to return to slumber in.

Only to jerk back with a shout at the round gold eyes invading his vision. Sheets tangled around the boy's form, and with an ungraceful yelp Zuko tumbled to the floor. Knocking his head against the wooden planks, the Prince rubbed his aching skull and peered balefully up at the intruder.

"Azula." Zuko growled, crawling back up into his bed and pulling the crimson sheets up after him. "What are you doing in my room?!" The younger royal might have been his sister, but as far as Zuko was concerned he'd be better off without a sibling. No malicious pranks, no mean spirited teasing, and no being woken up in the middle of the night for no reason.

Tilting her head, Azula studied her brother with the golden eyes that were common in their country. Baby fat still clung to the round curves of the four year old princess' face, even if the young prodigy had already begun throwing sparks in their shared firebending instruction, and there was still a certain innocence to the way Azula hugged a worn stuffed koala sheep doll to her chest.

"It's thundering." Azula pointed out matter of factly, peeling back the sheets of Zuko's bed while ignoring her older brother's indignant squawk. "Father said I'm not allowed to sleep with him or mother anymore." Pinning the prince with a defiant look, the girl wiggled into the downy softness of Zuko's mattress and closed her eyes with a huff.

Zuko glared at Azula, weighing the risk of simply kicking her out of his bed. Azula had already given up crying to their sire – Father was never one to coddle either of his children or indulge their fears. But if she said anything to Mother, he'd have to deal with their mother's sad sighs and disappointed looks at their fighting.

There was a distressed furrow to Azula's brow despite his younger sister's determined efforts to act tough and unshaken. The distant boom of thunder that came every now and then put a quiver in his sister's pouting lips, and Zuko found himself reluctantly softening.

No matter how much his mother admonished him to look after his sister, the young prince often found himself forgetting. Zuko couldn't help but resent Azula most of the time. She was already a better firebender than he was – if he even was a firebender at all, seeing as how he had yet to throw any actual sparks. Father loved his daughter more than he loved his son, and Azula herself was always so mean!

'Your sister is still young Zuko. Give Azula some time to grow up.'

"Yeah, okay." Zuko muttered, unsure if he was replying to Azula or to the memory of his mother. Yanking the red silk up over both of them, he tentatively wrapped his arms around his sister and pulled her close. Thunder shrieked again, much closer than a last burst, but the silent tension had gone out of Azula's face, and the frown that had marred her brow was gone.

The faint smell of jasmine tickled his nose, and Zuko began to relax back into sleep. Azula had never bothered to pad her way to his room before when hiding from thunder or the monsters beneath the bed, far preferring the company of their mother – at least until Father had apparently banned it, for some reason.

Zuko couldn't say why Father would do such a thing. With Azula so quiet, he didn't mind putting up with her. And when she snuggled closer to his chest, it was even... nice, having her around. If she could act this way all the time, Zuko would be glad to have a sister.

The dark passed. The storm rolled away before the morning sun, and Zuko found Azula's frequent insults slightly less cutting than they were the day before. Thus when she padded her way to his room again that night, complaining about monsters beneath the bed, the young prince shared his sheets with no complaint.

Nor did he complain when Azula found her way to his room the night after that, or the night after that. If Azula's insults became friendly teases in the weeks and months and years afterward, Ursa was glad to see it. And if Zuko's fumbling bending forms improved beneath his younger sister's abrasive tutelage, Oazi was pleased at having a slightly less shamefully weak heir.

Grief came on scarlet wings, and Azula watched silently as her eleven year old brother turned his face to the sky. Rain sprinkled down, running in streams over the handsome planes of Zuko's face, and the princess knew that it provided a convenient disguise for the salty tears that were surely tracking down her brother's face.

Lu Ten. Hung in the air, thick and silent between them, and for once Azula found herself without words to offer. Teasing Zuzu with her typical sharp words would do more to hinder rather than help her elder sibling with his grief. She knew that someone like their mother – or even Mai, Agni forbid – might have had some inspirational and kind words to offer Zuko.

Azula had more than become aware of her deficiencies – strengths, Father's voice insisted in the back of her mind – in the years since she'd first hid with her brother from a lightning storm. Something dark and primal lurked beneath her skin, tasting ecstasy when she struck out with cruelty and tasted that heady tang of power over others.

Zuzu didn't like it when she burnt the turtle ducks, or cut into the oafish servants when they were clumsy, or when she had tried to end her friendship with Mai over the constant cow eyes the older girl gave her brother. So Azula swallowed the sharp angles of her cruelty in front of him, and tried to learn to smile a little more softly. She didn't care for it.

But it was the fair price of sneaking into her brother's bed long after their disproving mother insisted they end the practice – something about propriety – to smell the cinnamon of his skin and feel the warm pounding blood in Zuko's veins. Azula enjoyed Zuzu's rage every time he heard someone call his little sister a monster more than she enjoyed the small rush that came from bullying the absolutely pitiable.

Setting a hand on Zuko's shoulder, Azula squeezed in sympathy. Dragging up the soft words from her throat and pushing them past her suddenly thick tongue took some effort, but the princess was able to squeeze out a quiet "He was a good man."

Even in Azula's esteem, Lu Ten had been tolerable. Unlike Ozai, her cousin didn't weigh her with cold eyes like a tool. Unlike Ursa, there was no weary judgement in his face the rare times Iroh's son had come home from the war. Unlike Azulon, neither Iroh nor his son viewed Ozai's children as disposable bags of flesh.

Lu Ten was simply sickeningly kind, apt to toss either sibling in the air with laughter and hold them close for obviously exaggerated tales of battle. There was no preference in Lu Ten's favour. No manipulation or judgement. Simply affection. The thought brought a faint pang beneath Azula's breastbone, and the princess furrowed her brow even as Zuko settled a hand over her's.

Curious warmth trickled out of her eyes, stinging faintly beneath the summer deluge. Agni praise the rain for concealing Zuko's weak emotions and loss of control from the eyes of gossiping servants. And for concealing her own.

'Everything I've done, I've done to protect you. Remember this, Zuko. No matter how things seem to change, never forget who you are.'

Leaning over the windowsill, Zuko ignored the slight digging of wood into the flesh of his forearms as he took in the black drapes of mourning that cluttered about the walls of the royal palace and over the fire nation capital that stretched into the horizon.

The thick facade of grief at the loss of Fire Lord Azulon, the Prince Lu Ten, and Princess Ursa bred a heavy stillness over the court and common people. Servants and noble alike scurried about buried in a hush, few tongues daring to defile the bereaved silence.

The loss of Lu Ten still dug blades into the wounded corners of his spirit, and Zuko's missing mother was a howling storm of grief in the confines of his chest. Pain and absence throbbed painfully with every beat of his heart, eased only by the faint jasmine scent and warmth of Azula as she lingered by his side.

"She's not dead, you know." His sister offered, and Zuko knew how much it cost Azula to even speak positively of their mother. He knew his mother loved Azula, just like his mother loved him. But Azula was convinced that Mother only ever viewed her as a monster, and his sister rejected their mother with the same determination that made her a near-master bender at such a young age.

Just as Zuko knew Ozai had no true affection for either of his children, or for his vanished wife. When Azula had hesitantly spilled the truth of the secret lessons she still received from their father, Zuko had been disbelieving and horrified. Until his mother confirmed that Azula wasn't lying. A man who claimed that love and kindness were pathetic illusions didn't have the capacity to love anyone.

"I know." Zuko replied after a beat, dragging a hand through his ruffled hair with faint anxiety. Mother was somewhere, fleeing into obscurity for the sake of her very life. Zuko had been full of confusion and terror when his father sent a servant in the early hours of the morning with news of Ursa's suicide over her dear father's passing. But Azula had known the truth, just like she seemed to know everything of import.

Mother had murdered the Fire Lord to protect her son's life, and Father had taken the throne from beneath his missing elder brother and dead nephew. The dead woman wrapped in white linen laying in his mother's chambers was some murdered peasant, ensuring that all bridges behind Ursa were burnt. Such were royal secrets.

An elbow dug playfully into his side, and Zuko turned to give his sister a half-hearted glare. Pain and rage simmered beneath his veins, urging him to strike out. But this was Azula, who had painstakingly urged him through bending forms time and again until he mastered them. Azula, who still snuck into his rooms at night every now and then to cuddle up warm and smelling sweetly. Azula, who whispered soft and sharp in his ear in warning before he could commit some blunder of manners.

Azula wasn't his mother, and she never would be. But she was his sister, and that just might be enough.

"Mom's gone, Zuzu. So I suppose I'll have to be the one keeping your sorry butt safe from now on."

Fire and smoke exploded, blowing Zuko off his feet and on his ass in the dirt.

Azula threw back her head and laughed. "Do it just like that Zuzu, every single time." Smirking at her exasperated uncle, the princess spun on her heel and left Iroh to his attempts to teach Zuko how to bend lightning.

Lightning generation was a technique she herself had mastered some months past – another mark of the eleven year old princess' prodigious martial skill, and of her thirteen year old brother's compared deficiencies.

At least Ozai was more likely to ignore Zuko, compared to younger years when their father was more apt to pick apart every single mistake her brother made.

Narrowing her gaze at the crimson and gold royal palace in the distance as she left the bending arena, Azula shook her head before allowing her feet to carry her into the teeming streets of the capital.

The air hung thick and humid over the city, the faint smell of sea salt mingling with the sour smell of peasantry. Warm bodies crowded around Azula, the commoners ignorant as to the presence of their princess pushing through the mid-afternoon crowds.

Unlike Zuzu, Azula was a virtual unknown to the common folk. She had neither the expectation to be seen by the peasants – as Crown Prince Zuko did – or the desire to connect with the people – as her brother did. Remove the crimson crown hairpiece and her topknot, and Azula could pass easily for any one of the many bored children of the nobility or wealthy merchant classes.

Which was just as Azula wanted it. No royal wanted their name tied to such dirty business.

Turning down a side alley, Azula withheld the urge to wrinkle her nose at the smell of filth and decay. Poverty existed at the fringes of even their 'glorious' nation, and the rag-clad beggars that watched her passage with hollow eyes were exemplary of it.

Azula stepped back out onto another bustling street, catching the flow of human traffic and allowing herself to be swept along and around the corner so she could duck into a shady stall and wait. Long heartbeats passed as reptilian orbs scanned the crowd.

There.

Two bearded men rustled on by without a side glance, topknots mingling silver and ink strands. Ozai's servants missed the lurking figure of their princess in the dark entirely, and Azula repressed a scoff. If it wasn't so convenient, she would almost be insulted by the easily fooled tails her father set after her in his indiscriminate paranoia.

Nodding at the quiet woman minding the stall, Azula ignored the fine-spun rolls of silk to toss Iroh's little spy a gold coin. The princess smirked at the woman's wide-eyed fumble, sweeping back out into the crowd to backtrack to the alley she'd come through.

Leaning against the brick corner where the alley met the street, Azula adopted a purely bored expression. Looking for all the world like a noble brat with nothing to do, the Fire Nation princess dropped a beaten silver piece into the lap of the filthy beggar beside her.

"My thanks, Mistress Min." The rag-shroud man murmured, young voice at old with his beaten and weathered facade. "Your generosity will put some warm food and wine in my belly for the rest of the week."

Any curious passerby would see a wealthy girl giving out a pittance to a poor man, their slight familiarity speaking to some childhood attachment. Perhaps the beggar had been a servant for whatever merchant or lord her father was, dismissed to the gutter for whatever paltry shame the man accidentally gave her stingy father.

Azula heard it differently. An acknowledgement of her leadership among the little web of criminals and spies she'd been building in the filthy underworld, and confirmation that all appropriate actors would be in place for the remainder of the week.

"I have my doubts." Azula replied after a beat. "Prices are always fluctuating. I wouldn't be surprised if it only lasted for the next three days."

Act on the third day.

Bowing his head, the beggar fixed a bleary brown gaze at the worn bricks of the alley wall opposite. "As you say, Mistress Min."

Azula hummed, summoning up a tone of false concern as she peered down at the slouched informant. "Be careful Huang. I hear the streets can be dangerous at night. Maybe you should be looking into obtaining some knives to protect yourself. Even a child wouldn't be safe from the sort of ruffians that I hear roam about in the dark."

Obtain both the girl and the child.

"That is true, my Lady."

Sighing, Azula craned her neck to stare up at the clear blue skies. Even at this very moment, Zuzu was likely struggling to bend lightning with the exasperating – if adorable – stubborn determination her brother was full of. The two siblings truly were as different as night and day. One spending the afternoon learning from his beloved uncle.

The other spent her time arranging a hostage and ransom situation for gold.

"I'll be seeing you, Huang. Next time I'll see if I can sneak half a loaf of bread out for you, or something."

Half of the proceeds to my accounts.

"Safe travel, Mistress Min."

Azula turned away, plunging back into the stream of the peasantry. It was almost sad in a way, how different she and Zuko were. Even now, her brother was still a complete innocent. Oh Zuko had learnt much under her careful tutelage. Suspicion of courtiers. The knowledge that hidden implications and entendres were part of intrigue, regardless of how much he detested it. Even the reality that blood and murder were hardly foreign to the decadent court of the Fire Nation.

Firebending first, last, and most of all.

But Zuzu had never learnt the necessity of bloodying one's hands. Iroh was too soft after the death of Lu Ten, even if their uncle was more than familiar with the necessary cruelty to survive and thrive in the court. Ozai would never have bothered to instruct his weaker offspring, and Ursa would have been horrified at the suggestion that Zuko become familiar with all the dark sides of their nation.

Which was fine. Let Zuzu remain innocent and clean for a while longer. Sooner or later the Crown Prince would have to confront reality and adapt to it. But for the moment, Azula was happy enough to do her part to keep her only sibling safe (Ozai's infants that the concubines bore were no kin of her's).

Sleepless nights organizing her own spiderwebs in the underworld, contrary and hidden to both Ozai and Iroh? No problem. Arranging 'accidents' for particularly ambitious distant cousins that might one day stake a challenge for the Dragon Throne? Simple enough. Building a nest egg of hidden funds by extorting nobles – even to the point of arranging a probably traumatic hostage situation for her dear friend Mai?

Whatever it took to keep Zuzu safe and by her side.

Forever.

(AN): Just a short three thousand words here. The next chapter will likely be a similar "short scenes through the years" sort of deal. This is more to get a handle on the differences between canon and this fic before we get to the actual meat of the story. I wanted to touch on the relationship between Azula and Zuko more than anything else, and how it impacts those around them and each other.

Ozai – I have the impression that he's this sort of self conditioned sociopath. Given from what little we see of his early years in canon, his relationship with his father, and the reality of feudal courts, Ozai probably grew up in a situation where he was always the 'spare'. And then the spare of the spare, because Lu Ten is probably closer in age to Ozai than he is to Zuko. Always in the shadow of his glorious older brother, and little more than an afterthought to his father and the established political system. So complete detachment, amorality, and power hunger is how he responded to that environment.

Detachment from people who ignored him, and the family who acknowledged him as just an afterthought. Amorality is a necessary adaption for him to obtain power for himself, and the power hunger spawns from a need for acknowledgement. I don't intend to give the impression that he's incapable of feeling, since we see in the comics that he actually tried to be a decent husband and father until he encountered evidence of Ursa's total emotional infidelity. I suspect that to be the last 'hurrah' of humanity from him that blew up in his face, leading him to refuse any attachment to either his family or his children.

Azula – On the other hand is what I view as a sort of born psychopath. She doesn't understand right or wrong, or have much empathy about it. Which means she was a little monster as a child. But even monsters can crave love and acceptance. In canon, all we see from Ursa is rejection and discipline. You can claim to love your child, but if your thought process is "What on earth is wrong with that girl?!" and you act like that, it's not a surprise that the child is going to pick up on that fear and distance and know how you feel. The difference here is that I had Zuko and Azula develop a sibling relationship rather than the constant competition over their parents' affections – and all it takes is someone to reach out.

So given the rejection from – well – everyone except Ozai and Zuko, it's not a surprise that Azula would latch onto them. And given the difference between how Ozai treats her (like an apprentice) and how Zuko treats her (like a sibling), I would rather think Azula would figure things out and realize that what Ozai is giving her isn't love like her brother is. When she realizes she's just being used, her reaction would be to pull back emotionally there and cling to the only 'real' thing, which is Zuko.

Lu Ten – Was both an adult and a soldier. The man was probably away for months at a time, and when he came back, saw his cousins only rarely. Given that, and if we assume he's anything like Iroh, I suspect he'd give benefit of the doubt to Azula and not treat her like the monster gossip might say she is. Which means he had a sort of distant affectionate relationship with both of them, equal and nonjudgemental to the point even Azula might feel a touch of grief he kicked the bucket. Remember even in canon, she was attached to Ty Lee and Mai. She might be a monster, but she's not unemotional or incapable of forming any attachments.

On Mai - I honestly think she's a boring character, but it's not my intent to bash her or anything here. However, given that Mai has an enduring "true love" crush on Zuko, Azula is going to see her as a threat to her brother's affections. Which means that she doesn't have an attachment to Mai, and is perfectly willing to dismiss or use her. Out of some lingering childhood friendship, she's not liable to kill the girl unless Mai becomes a real threat, but she's perfectly willing to use her knowledge to arrange hostage and ransom for Mai and Tomtom. Even royals need untraceable funds to do their dirty work with, and Azula would be quite familiar with the security of her 'Friend's' home.

On why Ozai isn't flipping his shit at Azula being attached to Zuko - Whenever I read Azula and Zuko having a childhood friendship in fanon, we always seem to have Ozai breathing heavily in the corner out of pure rage at Azula daring to get attached to anyone, and I think that's wrong. Ozai favours Azula because she's a good tool, not because he's trying to create a female clone of himself or that he's jealous of her affections. She's amoral, she enjoys cruelty, and she's so like him generally that it almost hurts. And that's dangerous, because Ozai was willing to murder his own father for the throne. So once Azula is old enough, what's stopping her from doing him in if she's Ozai 2.0? However, if she has an attachment - that's a weakness he can exploit to keep her under his thumb. Ozai intends to die old and peaceful in bed after a century of being the most powerful man alive. Not assassinated on his daughter's sixteenth birthday. And if her attachment leads her to teach his shamefully weak son to be an average and somewhat useful tool, so much the better.

Incest – I'm a bit up in the air how this is going to be viewed culturally. I would say the Air Nomads don't even acknowledge it, since they don't acknowledge blood ties amongst their own and would have a nonjudgement view towards incest. The Water Tribes might be one tribe, but they're also collections of settlements, and I wouldn't be surprised to see them have an exogamy kind of system. "Marry outside the village". The Earth Kingdom would likely be closest to what we view as Dark Age "don't marry closer than cousins and you're good". The Fire Nation would be similar to that, except for their royalty.

Unlike the Water Tribes (which likely evolved out of an elective confederacy), or the Earth Kingdom (which is so decentralized the Earth King's vassals still call themselves "King" and is likely only unified by feeble force of arms) the Fire Nation's royal family claims sovereignty by right of divine blood. Descent from Agni is the source of their authority, and just like the Pharoahs or certain East Asian Emperors, incest arises from the desire to protect the purity of that lineage. I wouldn't say they're Targaryen style – incest hasn't been practised since before the days of Sozin (or longer, I haven't decided yet) – but it's not unheard of in the royal family either.

Of course, I may do away with that idea for good old societal "ick incest!" for the sake of drama, but I haven't decided yet.