This is a teaser for a fic I've been working on for a few months, now. I recently remembered what a profound impact Azula had on my life as a child near her age, and thus, a monstrosity was born in my (technically) adult mind.

Full story currently a pathetic work in progress, though I assure you, it commands an unhealthy amount of my time and mental energy. If things go my way, the first chapter will be up by the end of the year. Actual story will be almost 100% from Azula's point of view, beginning shortly before Zuko is banished. Will be very, very dark, rated M. My goal is to ruin your day a little bit. :)

This is a short little thing, and to me, kinda shitty. Forgive any and all errors I may have made, as I haven't used this website/attended school in nearly a decade...And try to enjoy the blatant foreshadowing.

I can say with confidence, though, that the real thing will be vastly more impressive.

Please let me know what you think! Enjoy!

As she opened her eyes, her mind refusing to clear, Ursa saw the rain spattering onto the fogged window to her right. With nothing else to do but breathe, she watched. Everything in the room seemed to be stained grey, the rising sun unable to penetrate the storm clouds that lingered, save for a ray of light here and there. Her vision swam, but she was certain that the courtyard had been flooded. She thought, vaguely, of the pond - the turtle ducks would have been frightened by the thunder and lightning. Even now, nearly halfway through autumn, the Fire Nation rarely saw such violent storms.

Before she could move to sit up in her bed, the dull pain swept over her in an instant. Her entire body was far too weak, and she felt as if it were growing weaker still with each passing second. While she struggled to move, her legs stuck to the silk of the sheets, and she sighed with the effort. Her hair stuck to the side of her pallid face, more sweat forming on her brow, despite the chill of the passing storm. Looking away from the window, taking in the rest of the room, she saw a pitcher of water on the stand left of the bed. Knowing she would be unable to reach for it herself, she looked past it to search for a servant. One surely would be with her, now.

Instead, as her blurry vision began to regulate, she noticed a figure in the chair near the door, across the small room. Smiling weakly, she saw her husband asleep, the newborn in his arms.

"Ozai," she called, the strength her voice held surprising her.

Almost instantly his eyes were opening, and he took a deep breath before righting himself, looking down at the bundle in his arms. His smile was almost as sleepless as her own. She watched as he stood slowly, careful not to disturb the child, and made his way to her. He sat on the bed beside her, his eyes shining, never diverted from the face peeking out of the blanket.

Ursa had long ago forgotten the water and the pain and the memories of the agonizing delivery. She had to hold her, had to see her daughter. Remembering the servant who had come when she screamed out upon waking in the night - unaware of what had happened after she finally delivered - a rush of excitement came over her, drowning everything else out. The woman told her of her beautiful baby girl, healthy and loud…Ursa had fallen unconscious before she could hold her, having lost a great deal of blood…

"Let me…" she began, her weakened arms reaching out.

The sound woke the baby, golden eyes bleary, displeased. She struggled in the captivity of her blanket, protesting weakly as Ozai shifted to move her. By the time Ursa finally held her securely, a series of wails had begun, her little arms now wriggled free, reaching out for her father again.

The servant had been wrong - she wasn't beautiful, she was breathtaking. Ursa's heart was struck almost violently with an old emotion, so similar and yet so different from when she had first held Zuko. A daughter of her own, the way she'd always imagined. Happiness overwhelmed her as the daylight filtered in through the window, the infant abandoning her futile struggle in favor of settling back down, looking up into her mother's eyes.

"Her name is Azula," Ozai said softly, though his voice filled the room. His words seemed to put an end completely to the baby's lingering agitation.

"For your father," Ursa acknowledged, her grin returning at the sound of the name. "It's beautiful."

She watched as her child gazed around blankly, seeming fixated on the window herself, seeing the sun breaking the clouds apart at last. Ursa remembered the start of her labor, the storm having just begun outside, and wanted to laugh.

"I was worried the rain was some kind of forewarning…" she began, stroking the small tuft of dark hair on her daughter's head. "As if it would mean bad luck for her." She laughed tiredly, her seemingly permanent smile growing.

"I wouldn't be so sure," Ozai murmured, and she looked to him again. He was still watching the child, seeming to be considering his own statement. His eyes were bloodshot, and she realized that he must have been asleep at the door all night, probably since the Fire Sages had blessed the child.

Just as Ursa's arms were becoming too weary to hold her anymore, the baby - Azula - began to cry again. Ozai took her into his own arms once more, and when he smiled down to her, the fussing all but ended. The kicks and cries stilled as Ursa watched them, and when the newborn saw her father, she settled down once more.

Abruptly, the pain returned, and Ursa had to close her eyes. What lucidity she'd had moments ago began to drift off to someplace she couldn't quite reach, and she carefully adjusted herself back into the pillows.

Birthing Zuko had been nowhere near this strenuous.

"She is so like you, my dear," Ozai said quietly, and she could hear that he was still grinning.

Too tired to acknowledge how true it seemed to be, she sighed, her eyes remaining closed, perfectly content.

-

Many months later, even in the sunshine, Ursa thought of this moment and felt the dread of that storm once more. Watching young, exuberant Zuko stand to reach up to his baby sister, and looking down to little Azula happy in her arms… She realized that while their daughter may certainly possess a resemblance to Ursa herself, she had undoubtedly inherited Ozai's smile.

See what I did there, though?! EH?

This is the first thing I've written in nearly five years. Not my first fanfiction. I very much hope that one of you, somewhere, will be down with this shit.

I also hope you forgive my vulgar language. There will be plenty of it in the author's notes, I'm sure.

The song I associate with this particular piece, and the whole story, in fact, is Drugs Exist by HEALTH - if anyone is into that sort of thing.

Once again, please let me know what you think, and/or if you happen to look forward to what I've been brewing!