Avatar, "Premature Hope" Azula/Zuko, rated PG
Fandom: Avatar: the Last Airbender
Title: Premature Hope
Author: Paynesgrey
Characters/Pairings: Zuko, Azula, slight Azula/Zuko
Rating: PG
Word Count 637
Warnings: Incest implications.
Notes: Post series. Written for the "Forbidden" challenge at atla-contest on DW.
Summary: She asks him if he's ever loved her.
Her hands gripped the bars tightly, so much that he saw the whites of her knuckles. Instinct triggered within him, and he was afraid she’d try something. (She couldn’t; the chi-blockers visited her frequently, but that didn’t mean his sister wouldn’t keep him on edge.)
“Did you ever love me, Zuzu?” Her voice cooed like a tempting bird.
Zuko paused, hesitation overwhelming him as he burrowed deep within his memories to respond. He looked at her, trying to unearth his feelings so tightly packed by debris and anger deep inside his heart.
“Yes,” he said simply, and he didn’t know how much time has passed between them. Azula did, as he saw a grin stretch widely over her pale face.
“Ahh...you hesitated, dear brother. That hurts,” she said with a pout. He frowned at her, and he placed his hand over hers on the bars. He expected her to flinch, to pull away in a violent rage, insulted and violated.
Instead, he felt her fingers shift, moving, with one long nail tracing down the side of his thumb. He shivered.
“It shouldn’t,” he said finally, watching with intensity as she touched him. It’d been so long since they’d had any contact. He’d mostly avoided her in this prison. He decreed orders from afar, hoping she had adequate care but making sure there was no chance for her to escape, to rebel and rise up against him.
She still could.
Instead, he was entranced by her interlocking their fingers, and he saw it as a strange metaphor of her surrender to him, reminding him of what sort of people they had become after the war. “Oh?” she responded just above a whisper, a thin sliver of mockery resonating in her voice.
“I could have something quickly, something cruel and resolute,” he said, his tone seemingly gentle and stern at the same time, like a father - only wiser, calmer. Azula was shaken by it, for a second, by pulling back, and then she resolved her stare into his eyes, that wicked darkness that burned like a barely dying fire, ready to reignite the moment the dry sticks hit the embers.
“Instead, I thought about it. You should see that as...”
“Mercy?” She threw her head back and laughed madly, her hair flinging wildly in her face.
“Truth,” he countered. “And kind to give you any thought.”
“And what about now?” she demanded, rattling the steel in her prison. “Do you love me now, brother? Or do you pity me? I will take your hatred over pity any day. I will take disgust over love!”
“Then why do you ask, Azula?” he said with a heavy sigh, rubbing his temple. He turned to leave but she screamed after him.
“You should hate me enough to kill me! To make me pay! What kind of leader are you that lets traitors rot instead of die?” she taunted.
“I could never hate you, Azula. I tried, and sometimes, I thought I did,” he said, his eyes charged with fury but his expression was wary.
“So you keep me alive out of love? Is that it?” She spat at his feet.
He sighed again, frowning at her rage. He wondered, was it love? Why did he keep her alive?
Did he seriously believe she could change? That she could learn something from prison?
She’s still young. I learned to change once. No one is beyond change; the Avatar has taught me that.
But he couldn’t tell her that, not now. She still clearly wasn’t ready for such feelings, such obviously lofty hope.
He met her eyes again and spoke calmly. “Do you want it to be love?”
Frowning, Azula glared at him but did not answer.
“You hesitated, Azula,” he said, surprising her with a smile. “It almost gives me hope.”
Title: Premature Hope
Author: Paynesgrey
Characters/Pairings: Zuko, Azula, slight Azula/Zuko
Rating: PG
Word Count 637
Warnings: Incest implications.
Notes: Post series. Written for the "Forbidden" challenge at atla-contest on DW.
Summary: She asks him if he's ever loved her.
Her hands gripped the bars tightly, so much that he saw the whites of her knuckles. Instinct triggered within him, and he was afraid she’d try something. (She couldn’t; the chi-blockers visited her frequently, but that didn’t mean his sister wouldn’t keep him on edge.)
“Did you ever love me, Zuzu?” Her voice cooed like a tempting bird.
Zuko paused, hesitation overwhelming him as he burrowed deep within his memories to respond. He looked at her, trying to unearth his feelings so tightly packed by debris and anger deep inside his heart.
“Yes,” he said simply, and he didn’t know how much time has passed between them. Azula did, as he saw a grin stretch widely over her pale face.
“Ahh...you hesitated, dear brother. That hurts,” she said with a pout. He frowned at her, and he placed his hand over hers on the bars. He expected her to flinch, to pull away in a violent rage, insulted and violated.
Instead, he felt her fingers shift, moving, with one long nail tracing down the side of his thumb. He shivered.
“It shouldn’t,” he said finally, watching with intensity as she touched him. It’d been so long since they’d had any contact. He’d mostly avoided her in this prison. He decreed orders from afar, hoping she had adequate care but making sure there was no chance for her to escape, to rebel and rise up against him.
She still could.
Instead, he was entranced by her interlocking their fingers, and he saw it as a strange metaphor of her surrender to him, reminding him of what sort of people they had become after the war. “Oh?” she responded just above a whisper, a thin sliver of mockery resonating in her voice.
“I could have something quickly, something cruel and resolute,” he said, his tone seemingly gentle and stern at the same time, like a father - only wiser, calmer. Azula was shaken by it, for a second, by pulling back, and then she resolved her stare into his eyes, that wicked darkness that burned like a barely dying fire, ready to reignite the moment the dry sticks hit the embers.
“Instead, I thought about it. You should see that as...”
“Mercy?” She threw her head back and laughed madly, her hair flinging wildly in her face.
“Truth,” he countered. “And kind to give you any thought.”
“And what about now?” she demanded, rattling the steel in her prison. “Do you love me now, brother? Or do you pity me? I will take your hatred over pity any day. I will take disgust over love!”
“Then why do you ask, Azula?” he said with a heavy sigh, rubbing his temple. He turned to leave but she screamed after him.
“You should hate me enough to kill me! To make me pay! What kind of leader are you that lets traitors rot instead of die?” she taunted.
“I could never hate you, Azula. I tried, and sometimes, I thought I did,” he said, his eyes charged with fury but his expression was wary.
“So you keep me alive out of love? Is that it?” She spat at his feet.
He sighed again, frowning at her rage. He wondered, was it love? Why did he keep her alive?
Did he seriously believe she could change? That she could learn something from prison?
She’s still young. I learned to change once. No one is beyond change; the Avatar has taught me that.
But he couldn’t tell her that, not now. She still clearly wasn’t ready for such feelings, such obviously lofty hope.
He met her eyes again and spoke calmly. “Do you want it to be love?”
Frowning, Azula glared at him but did not answer.
“You hesitated, Azula,” he said, surprising her with a smile. “It almost gives me hope.”