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Fandom ATLA: Archive of Fire [Closed]

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moonrise

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Citra was not oblivious to the importance of the dinner. After all, it wasn’t everyday that Ursa stepped in to help with her hair. Citra felt rather hopeless at managing it, which seemed to amuse Ursa who always commented on the silkiness of it that made it so difficult to manage.

“It’s just so hard to section it,” Citra sighed as she watched in the mirror as Ursa effortlessly sectioned the hair behind her head, and captured the sectioned off portion in a ponytail. Ursa’s smiles always seemed full of secrets, even then, over something as simple as styling hair.

“It is only because you cannot see it,” Ursa mused, “and it is an odd angle to work from,” she allowed, wrapping the hair around into a bun, creating a half-up, half-down style. Simple, elegant, really. Something that Citra really should get better at learning. The bun was secured with Citra’s two hair sticks, the two she had arrived with when Iroh brought her here – the red and blue dragons, Shaw and Ran.

Not that she could ever say it.

Ursa knew well they were her favorite. Even the way she looked at them over Citra’s head, spoke to a shared sorrow of something loved, and something lost. It was only a moment, only a tremor, before it was gone, like the air rippling over a fire.

Ursa took a deep breath and unfolded herself from sitting behind Citra. She offered her hand down, “We do not want to be late,” she said, as Citra took her hand and rose.

Soft hands.

Unlike hers, already developing calluses, already preparing for war. Women like Ursa did not have to fight in wars, and perhaps Citra didn’t, either – and she struggled with that thought of what her future would look like.

Lu Ten was to be her husband. It felt far off, but it wasn’t. Four years, maybe six, but no longer than that. He was going to war. He was going to be a great General of the Fire Nation. She ought to support him in that. She, too, should fight. She should support her people, but she still warred with herself over that.

The world was her people.

The world needed balance.

The Fire Nation promised that, under their guidance.

Were they right? Iroh hadn’t kept his promise to show her the world. She didn’t know, anymore.

But she knew she cared for Lu Ten, for Iroh, Ozai, Azulon, Zuko, Ursa.

And Azula.

“Do we need to get Azula?”

Ursa’s expression shifted. It was hard to tell what it meant, but her words said enough, “Azula can manage her own hair.”

Citra opted for optimism, “Yeah – she’s good at everything she tries,” admiration, without jealousy, without thought.

Ursa lightly squeezed her hand, “You are good at much, as well.”

Citra hadn’t meant it to be an insult to herself, yet suddenly, it felt like one. She pursed her lips together, but didn’t speak to ask what that meant, besides not being good at styling her hair on her own.

After all, they reached the dining hall, where the others were and where they would be arriving.

Ever-attentive Lu Ten broke from his father and Azulon to approach her, a boy – no, now a man – with kind eyes and a warm smile. “Lady Citra, Lady Ursa,” he inclined his head respectfully to both, but offered his hand to Citra.

Citra smiled as she took it. There was never any rush of butterflies, never any nervousness at all. Was it strange? Was it normal? She found herself wondering more and more if she should feel…something more than this?

“Lu Ten,” Ursa greeted, “you seem well.”

“I’m all nerves,” he said, but the grin never showed it, “but don’t worry, I will make everyone proud.”

Citra blinked, a bit confused at the exchange, “What do you mean?”

His expression was patient as he said, “I don’t want to spoil the surprise before Zuko and Azula arrive,” the adults knew, then. Not the kids. “But don’t worry, it’s good news.”
 
Azula knew how to manage her own hair, but why bother when there were servants around to do it for her? She certainly didn't need her own mother to coddle her. So it didn't bother her in the slightest to know that the coddling had been transferred to Citra. Not one bit. After all, Citra wasn't officially a princess of the Fire Nation yet. She was just a little girl that Iroh had took pity on and brought home. Like some sort of stray animal. And yet Citra would be the one with a place beside the future fire lord, destined to outrank Azula. Worse still, Citra was competent. And apparently likable. Both Ursa and Zuko liked her.

Azula was still reserving her own judgment. She didn't like that such a mystery was dangling right before her eyes. How she wanted to tear it apart.

At least now she had other matters to occupy herself with. She'd recently overheard something rather interesting in one of her grandfather's war councils. Sneaking around and eavesdropping was a terrible and dangerous habit, but not one Azula planned on breaking. The rewards were too tempting. Prying into her father's private matters and secret chambers was easy enough, and never an issue so long as she didn't get caught. Even if she did, there were plenty of servants to take the fall for it.

The price of this secret was well worth the risks. The Fire Nation was planning to invade Ba Sing Se, and now her grandfather and the others were likely going to make the big announcement during tonight's dinner. Azula felt empowered by this knowledge that she had seized with her own wits. A little giddy, even, because it gave her something to lord over her dear older brother.

"I know something you don't." She'd been teasing him all afternoon. Her lips curled in a devious, taunting smile as she strode alongside Zuko, hands politely folded behind her back. Yet her body language was incapable of completely distracting from the dangerous gleam in her eyes. Oh, secrets were so fun, and for as long as this could stay one, there was no reason Azula shouldn't take advantage of it.

"It's a really big deal, you know." Azula egged on, humming to herself. "So it's no wonder nobody's thought to tell you anything. Poor Zuzu." Her mock frown was anything but sympathetic, though something more genuine took its place as she caught sight of the group outside the grand dining hall. Citra and Lu Ten were holding hands. Their mother hadn't even noticed them yet. The woman seemed to watch their grandfather and uncle discussing something, carefully.

"Ah, there's my niece and nephew." Iroh waved over the pair of siblings with the same smile Lu Ten inherited from him. A welcoming and tender smile, which was also somewhat annoying. "Come, the Fire Lord has prepared us a lavish feast tonight. I am especially looking forward to the ginger roast duck bathed in a sweet orange glaze." The man rubbed his eager stomach with a look of early contentment. And was he on the brink of drooling? Gross.

You could afford to lay off some ducks, uncle. Azula thought, but didn't dare to say any of it out loud in the presence of her grandfather. She still ignored Iroh, though. "Good evening, Lord Grandfather." Azula bowed, properly, and briefly sought a look of approval from her mother, who did not yet give one. "Cousin Lu Ten," she continued with the greetings and then smiled as her eyes met those of the future Fire Princess. A girl only one measly year older than her. "I like your hairpins."

Then she looked back to Lu Ten. "Will Lady Citra be sitting with me and Zuko tonight?" Her mother hoped for the three of them to get along, after all.
 
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Zuko was so tired of having Azula lord information over his head. Even if he was used to it, that didn’t make it easier to deal with. He wanted to snap at her, but resisted, all the way to the dinner, where he knew he’d be free of her. Somewhat.

Iroh was the first to greet them, talking about food. ‘At least it isn’t tea.’ Though that would likely be a part of it soon. Even so, Zuko struggled through a smile for his uncle, that became a bit broader when his gaze met Lu Ten’s, as he and Azula joined their older cousin and Citra. A part of Zuko wanted to think of her as a cousin, too, although he knew that wasn’t expressly true.

His father made sure to remind them.

Ursa gave no approving looks. Only a look. Watchful. Wary.

Azulon was the one to give the mildly approving look to Azula, and Zuko, now that he was close, followed suit, bowing and lowering his head, “Lord Grandfather, thank you for having us,” he knew it wasn’t necessary. They were family, but they were still kids, so this was something important.

Like Azula kept teasing.

Lu Ten kept that gentle smile for Azula as she greeted him, “Cousin Azula, Cousin Zuko.”

Zuko wanted to roll his eyes at the formality between them right then, but he supposed it was necessary. “Cousin Lu Ten,” he wanted to just call him Lu Ten as the did at play. He was momentarily surprised for Azula to drop the formalities with Citra, but wouldn’t comment, as he greeted, “Lady Citra.” Unrelated or not, she was due respect.

He didn’t really care about her hair sticks.

Though she seemed a moment flustered, and reached to touch one, before quickly drawing her hand back. Afraid she’d suddenly mess it all up if she tried to pull one out to show Azula closer. “Thank you, Princess Azula,” she said, a touch hurried in that, given she felt she’d delayed when she reached for them. Inappropriately delayed. How could she!

Lu Ten wasn’t sure of the seating, and glanced back to Iroh.

It was Azulon who spoke, however, “You all will sit upon one side of the table,” he gestured towards the children’s side, “But Lu Ten shall sit near,” a gesture to a spot usually reserved for Iroh, at the head of the table.

Azulon and Iroh tended to occupy those points, as Fire Lord and Heir Apparent.

Today was indeed a special day, for Iroh and Lu Ten, as they prepared to step out. Even Lu Ten looked a little surprised by this.

“You honor me, grandfather,” far less formal in words, but certainly not in tone or action, as Lu Ten inclined his head deferentially to Azulon, “Thank you.”

“You will soon prove yourself worthy of the honor,” Azulon’s tone brooked no argument. Lu Ten would, or he would not come back to see dishonor.

Lu Ten would move to take his seat, keeping Citra's hand until he had reached her chair at his side, which he pulled out for her. Zuko considered rushing to take a seat by her, but realized it would be worse to let Azula sit by Iroh, so he could take that place. He would mourn getting to sit by Lu Ten, but he knew that couldn't happen while Citra was there.
 
Azula picked up on Citra's hesitation easily. "You can show me later, if you want to." She offered, and very sweetly at that, though her smile didn't quite reach her eyes. She cared little for the hairpins, in truth. But something about the way Citra treated them—the implication of their sentimental value to the other girl—made them more interesting to Azula in the same way Zuko's toys could sometimes be more fun to play with than her own.

More fun to break.

She wasn't given time to dwell on whether she truly cared for this great honor being bestowed upon Lu Ten when she noticed her father appear at her mother's side. Their expressions were curious. Starkly different, though neither of them gave much away. How secretive the adults were. Or tried to be. Azula reveled in her own cleverness, as though snooping somehow made her more remarkable than Citra and Zuko, who only ever seemed to do as they were told.

"Now that the whole family is here, let us commence the feast." Iroh smiled, allowing everyone else to find their seats before he would, yet his stomach betrayed his impatience and the older man shot a sheepish grin at his son for it. Lu Ten didn't quite inherit his sense of indulgence, but none could claim Iroh hadn't raised a fine young gentleman. He nodded approvingly at his son's treatment of young Citra, though blinked in surprise at how Azula suddenly sprouted in the seat beside her. Perhaps he wasn't the only one eager for dinner tonight, though Azula hardly made a move for any of the appetizers.

She wasn't a hopeless glutton, unlike some people in this family. "Did you know they used to make girls at the academy eat elephant rats for survival training?" Azula delivered the bit of trivia in a tone just low enough for Citra to hear beside her, a smile curling on her lips as though she hadn't just shared an unsettling detail right as Citra was about to eat. She played it off innocently by swiping a steaming, plump chicken dumpling from the platter in front of them. Specifically, the one Zuko had been eyeing. The dumpling promptly disappeared behind her lips, and out came a calm puff of smoke. A normal person might've burned their tongue, but good firebenders didn't get burned.

"Would you be able to do it?" Azula asked Citra, almost expectantly. Almost as though she hoped the line of questioning would either unsettle the older girl or at least prove that Citra had some nerves.
 
Citra had once been overwhelmed by all of the food in the Fire Nation. She had grown accustomed to it, only to begin to miss food from her home instead. It was curious what a mention of elephant rats could do. It did not put off her appetite; on the contrary, she remembered elephant rats, fruits, and vegetables, all being cooked together underground, using hot stones.

It had been delectable. She’d never learned the spices, but she remembered the taste, and how the elders told her cooking it this way locked in the moisture.

So she was a bit confused that this was apparently survival food. Elephant rat had been a delicacy, and cooked that way for special occasions! She blinked twice in confusion, and stated plainly, “Elephant rat is tasty. You’ve never had it, have you?” it was obviously before Azula’s time in the girl’s academy. “It’s really, really good. If I knew the right spices….” Well, then she could have shown Azula.

But she didn’t.

She didn’t keep her voice conspiratorially low. Zuko grimaced, taking a dumpling before Azula could steal another that he desired. As tempted as he was to ask why they were talking about eating garbage animals, he didn’t want to continue in that vein, so he’d try to shut it out, and reach for some of the Komodo chicken.

Only for Iroh to grab the plate.

Zuko scowled and Iroh laughed, but put a helping on Zuko’s plate first, before he’d offer more loudly, “Do you want any of the Komodo chicken, Azula? Citra?”

Citra nodded and held up her plate to make it easier for Iroh’s reach.
 

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