𝓐𝓬𝓬𝓾𝓻𝓼𝓮𝓭 𝓒𝓻𝓸𝔀𝓷 {𝓐𝓣𝓛𝓐}

Part 8: An Unsocialized Pup

Once word of the princess's ability to fire bending spread. Her formal training officially began. And what better teacher than you?

Her father and grandfather were pleased with her fast growth. So much so that they gathered all the nobles and had a feast in her name. She was surrounded by praises and gifts.

She looked over at her brother. In a corner still holding tight to their mother. Many have shown grievance to her for having such a disgrace in the position of a role model. 'Don't be silly, there wasn't a moment in my life where I ever looked for his guidance.'

She enjoyed it tremendously when the adults shared a panicked laugh before awkwardly excusing themselves. Just as quickly they left, another group was as quick to take their place. And once more they filled her with more praises and compliments, asking for her schedule to see if they could present their children to her.

Playdates, how childish. She's far too busy for such pesky activities.

Closing her eyes, she folded her arms, blocking out the chattering adults. She was getting bored, the whole event was fun but now it's getting repetitive.

"If you have nothing else to say, you are dismissed." She loudly announced. It was okay to do so since her father and grandfather had already retired early. Besides, the party was for her, so she has the right to reign over it however she pleases.

Without waiting for the others to reply, she walked past them and naturally, they made way. Her headpiece was not heavy but after hours of wearing it, it became uncomfortable, she needed you to take it off for her and help her into her nightgown. The sun had long since gone, it was time for bed.

Her search came to a halt when she saw you on the balcony... with someone. Someone she doesn't know.

Her steps came to a halt when she saw the stranger grab your shoulder. What astonished her most was that you didn't show any signs of discomfort. She has seen you being touched(mostly by her mother and occasionally by Zuko) but you would more often than not make some sort of negative reaction. Your eyes would narrow or you would clench your fist or just ever so subtly roll your shoulders or straighten your back.

Wanting to take a closer look at the stranger and hear what the two of you were talking about, she snuck behind the curtain and crouched down.

Frowning, she cursed the party, it was too loud. Thanks to the music and the nobles' desperate attempt to acquaint themselves with those of higher ranking, she couldn't hear what you and the stranger were talking about. Though she did get a better look at, his? face.

Very short black hair, thick eyebrows, brown eyes, and cheeks on the hollow side with the number 167 branded on it. The man looked tired but he was smiling... at you.

Azula's jaw clenched.

His outfit was nothing to look at, a typical combat suit. But there was one thing that stood out. A phoenix pendant. Though not as defined as yours, but a phoenix nonetheless.

Which means that he also went to that camp.

You and him must have trained together or were at least in sister companies. She guesses that's how you knew him. But recalling what you have told her about the pendants, only those who are of higher "quality" graduates get to have a more defined pendent.

'The phoenix must reflect its owner,' her father once said.

It was strange for her to see you so at ease around others. The interactions she has seen of you were either being ordered by her family or you ordering the maids and guards.

Her eyes still lingered on you and that offending hand of that still rested on your shoulder. How dare this nameless nobody act so casual around you? Is he trying to get you in trouble for fraternization?

You are leaps and bounds above his league, and you are of a higher rank.

With her hands clenched, she stood up. She's not letting you get in trouble for someone like him. You had taken care of her when her own mother abandoned her, now it's her turn to return the favor.

Purposely clearing her throat loudly, she marched with the confidence of a general. She smirked when the man beside you immediately bowed. At least he knows his place. She was worried that your attention might have gone over his head.

Seeing that he had gotten enough attention from his higher to last him a lifetime, she ignored him. Instead, she looked at you, "We're done here, everyone that matters has already left. I wanna go to my room."

Without wasting another moment, she turned and began walking away from the still-bowing man, knowing full well that you would be on her heels.

While walking past her mother and brother, she heard her say something.

"Goodnight, Zuko. I love you-"

'Love you.'

That word played in her head. Mother loves Zuko.

Her gaze shifted to the side, staring at you. Then at your hand.

Quietly, she reached over and held your hand. She looked at you for any reaction and fortunately, you were fine.

Well, of course, if that man could touch you, why couldn't she? And every eyes and ears have heard and seen how close the two of you are.

With their hands swinging ever so lightly, Azula couldn't help but ask. "6, what's love?"

You let out a hum, thinking over your answer before you say it, "I wouldn't be able to give you an exact definition. Love isn't just one thing, as there are many shades within a color, love takes many forms. Love can be platonic, romantic, sexual, possessive, obsessive, unrequited, forbidden, and so on." She watched you take a deep breath, a thoughtful expression came across your face before you continued.

"Due to my lack of experience, I don't know what it is but I do know what it isn't. Love isn't the attraction or the sense of understanding you feel with broken or troubled people. It's not love if you wish and dream about the past or the regrets you might have of doing things differently. And love isn't changing yourself for the other or dreaming about pleasant scenarios together."

Her brows furrowed. "I'm... confused. But back to the first part, to the types of love. How do you tell them apart?"

"By your intentions."

There was a silence after that. The two of you had stopped walking at some point.

For some reason, Azula felt her throat dry out. Swallowing her nerves, she decided to push through, "do you love me?"

"Do you want me to say it?"

She shook her head, no.

For her, the silent confession was enough.