Chapter Text
They sit on their mother’s hip, head resting on her shoulder, as her arm holds them tight. Her hand graces and caresses the fire lilies in full bloom as she hums a vague tune.
The wind blows, shushing the land, and their mother pauses her melody, as if letting the wind take its turn.
The breeze softens away, and his mother continues her humming.
They’re becoming tired, so their eyes drift away, but the savanna of red flowers in full sunlight is too beautiful, so they blink forcefully and rub the fatigue away so they can keep looking.
With a mother’s intuition, she stops singing and gently says, “Are you tired, baby? Ready to go home?”
Wordlessly, and without lifting away from her shoulder, their shake their head.
Their mother laughs like morning birdsong. “Is that so, Princess Fuyuko? Because you seem pretty sleepy!”
“I don’ wanna go home yet, Mama,” they murmur.
“And why is that, my love?”
“Don’ know… it’s like a bird, Mama.”
“Free?”
“Yeah.”
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Princess Fuyuko, daughter of Prince Ozai and Princess Ursa, granddaughter of Fire Lord Azulon, was named so, for she was born just after the winter solstice, and though Caldera sits just atop the equator and never experiences a winter, Princess Ursa’s hometown of Hira’a did. So, swept away from her home not even a year ago, Ursa named her first child after the season she loved.
Hira’a is the northernmost island of the Fire Nation, in the far east swirl of volcanoes, surrounded quite closely by the colonies. The presence of the Navy was heavy, but Ursa was still only a girl and barely knew anything else.
Living in the Fire Nation, one never experienced true coldness. A warm day was most common, and thus the chill in the air and frost on the grass was an exotic climate to Ursa. For a few days in the winter, this would happen in Hira’a, and to Ursa it was always a relief from the unending heat. So, after her favorite time of year in her home, Ursa named her child Fuyuko, meaning “winter child.”
It was known that Ozai was disappointed in his newborn daughter. He looked into her eyes, which were still quite a vague color, and claimed he saw no spark. Many speculated that he was only looking for the spark of brutality, like what was seen in Azula, and completely overlooked the fire of life and perseverance in her destiny.
It was also known that the other members of the royal family adored Fuyuko. Fire Lord Azulon looked at her with the kind of pride that all feel for their achievements and assets, while General Iroh and Prince Lu Ten doted on her.
Iroh saw Fuyuko as the second child he never got to have, and Lu Ten intended to be like her older brother, to teach Fuyuko the ways of royalty and protect her from all that wanted to harm her.
A decade older than Fuyuko, Lu Ten couldn’t spend as much time as he wanted with the princess, and when she turned five and displayed firebending capabilities, Ozai sunk his claws into her like he did Azula, and the two temporarily drifted apart.
The palace of Caldera is humongous. It requires hundreds of workers to run smoothly. From the chambermaids and laundresses, to the highly trained chefs and delegates, the palace is a smoothly running machine with hundreds of cogs and pistons. If even one is broken or missing, it can cause a domino effect and delay the whole operation.
Every single employee works long and early hours, and parents are either widowed, or their partner has left for the war; some with children either too young or too poor for school. For them, the small children roam the servants’ halls, running messages between the wings. However, as children are wont to do, some may occasionally wander further into the palace, where the nobles and politicians reside.
Fuyuko is seven when she makes her first real friend.
His name was Juo, and he was a junior laundress's son.
It was in the late afternoon, when the sun was starting to hang low, and the shadows were growing. Princess Fuyuko had just finished with her arithmetic lessons, and as per her usual routine, was going to the maze-like gardens to hide and read her favorite play: Love Amongst the Dragons. The difficulty was a bit higher than her reading level, but she pushed through, because this was also her mother’s favorite play.
However, today was a bit different, because when Fuyuko turned the corner around a hedge, she noticed a strange boy; about her age, but in clothes much duller and rougher than her silk tunic and trousers. He sat below her favorite cherry-apple tree, drawing in the sand, and watching the koi fish swim and the turtle-ducks float and bob.
Fuyuko didn’t know what to feel—wary at first, and territorial over her favorite spot. She glowered at him for only a short time. As she watched, Fuyuko realized how…non-threatening he was. The boy was small and skinny, and seemed to barely occupy the space, as if he’s always keeping himself out of sight.
Fuyuko decides to approach him diplomatically first, to suss out the trespasser in her space. She doesn’t want to startle him, so Fuyuko doesn’t intentionally quieten her footsteps, but she is just as practiced at hiding as the boy; he didn’t notice her.
“Who are you?” Fuyuko said simply.
The boy startled and jumped, now laying prone before the princess, looking a little nervous.
“Um…I’m Juo. Who are you?”
Fuyuko adjusted her posture, feet snapping to shoulder width and hands clasping behind her back. “I am Princess Fuyuko, daughter of Prince Ozai and Princess Ursa, granddaughter to Fire Lord Azulon,” she stated the phrase which was beaten into her over and over again. Fuyuko could feel a ghost of the tutor’s stick slashing her heel, hear the echo of a ruler slamming a desk, and the phantom pressure of her father’s gaze.
They were gone in the next moment, leaving a frankly pitiful boy trembling before her. Fuyuko relaxed her posture, and said calmly, “You can call me Fuyuko. Unless the adults are around. They get mad when I don’t use my title.”
“Uh…ok,” Juo said.
For a while, the two of them played. First with simple pretend games with made-up toys, then to games like tag and who-can-do-the-best-cartwheel. The winner of that one was inevitably Fuyuko.
She doesn’t remember how long they played for, but as the eldest Princess, she was soon sought after, either for dinner, lessons, or training. Unfortunately, it wasn’t someone as kind as a nursemaid or handmaiden that found Fuyuko, but her governess.
The woman was appalled when she found the Princess, playing with not just a boy, but a peasant boy. That day, Fuyuko was scolded harshly, and first learnt that she must keep herself above and separate from the common folk, to be an example of constant purity and perfection.
The worst part was that she never saw Juo again.
Fuyuko loved firebending, but absolutely despised firebending training. The Princess loved to hold the spark of life in her hands, to see it flicker and dance with joy. It made her proud—of herself, of her sister, and of her country, the fact that it was her people that got to have an ability so special.
But training was overwhelming and painful. Fuyuko never understood what the tutors wanted her to do in each stance, and every time she needed correcting, they would harshly tap pointing-sticks against her joints. When she failed, they demanded that she get up and try again, again, again, until she at least got it down right, and her body was covered in bruises from falling repeatedly.
And they always wanted Fuyuko to be angry. Fuyuko was not a naturally angry person. Instead of lashing out, Fuyuko tended to bury her frustrations or cry to her mother or uncle. But the firebending tutors wanted her to feel too many emotions that weren’t there and use them as fuel to her fire. She always left training exhausted, not just physically, but emotionally, too young to comprehend what was really happening. Fuyuko would end her days feeling numb and empty, and would wake up feeling unrested.
To say this held her back in other aspects of a princess’s life was an understatement. She would dose off into daydreaming of katas, moving over and over again in her head. Fuyuko often missed most of each lecture, never able to focus on what the tutors said for more than ten minutes.
Being held back in all of her responsibilities, Fuyuko felt like a failure, especially when she was compared to Azula, who had no trouble keeping up.
So, when Uncle Iroh introduced Fuyuko to Piandao, who became her swords master, the Princess finally felt like she was started to get something right. There was more to it than routine movement, and Fuyuko was already skilled at hypervigilance and resourcefulness. Katas were always demonstrated to the Princess before she had to attempt them, and she was never reprimanded harshly for mistakes.
As Fuyuko grew, reaching her ninth year, she became more isolated, choosing to leave her sister and her friends to instead dance with her dao blades, if Ursa was not available that day. It always made Fuyuko feel like she belonged in her own body, made it easy to breathe again.
And, perhaps most of all, sword fighting made Fuyuko’s bond with her cousin, Lu Ten, so much closer. She barely remembered her life as a babe, playing with Uncle Iroh and Lu Ten at Ember Island beaches, her cousin more like an older brother. But when Lu Ten got older, he started taking on more responsibilities, as the second in line for the throne.
As is uncommon for the royal line, Prince Lu Ten was a non-bender. Despite this, he was praised and valued by both his father and Fire Lord Azulon for his intelligence and skill in warfare, and his mastery of the sword. When Fuyuko started to take after him in this way, he became her like older brother again.