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Warmth

Summary:

The heat of Azula's body cradled against his was comforting, not burning; a warmth that neither of them had experienced in far too long.

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  Zuko padded along the long halls that, despite the many guards and servants that moved aside to allow him passage, felt so empty without his mother here. His heart beat wildly in his chest and his hands were slick with sweat, unable to meet anyone's eyes as the stench of omega rolled off of him in waves. Zuko felt like he was filling the whole palace with the smell. He wished- not for the first time- that his father had allowed him to use scent blocking herbs; his father had refused, stating that everyone deserved to know his shame, how he was a disgrace to the royal family. 

  Zuko tried to wave those thoughts from his head as he approached Azula's bedroom door, forcing himself to focus on the task at hand. However, as much as he tried to avoid it, the conversation he had had with his father invaded his mind. 

  Zuko was kneeling on the floor, his head dropped down before his father, shaking as the Firelord regarded him with cold eyes. 

"You bring shame to the Fire Nation with your very existence." Ozai said after a long beat of tense silence. "Weak, stupid, omega." Every word felt like a stab, Zuko's battered and bruised heart left bleeding out on the unforgiving floor. "Only good for bearing heirs." 

 Zuko could feel Ozai's eyes burning a hole into the back of his head, the twelve year old fighting down the urge to flee when the temperature in the already humid room increased to almost boiling.

"Yes, father." He finally managed after a beat of silence, though his stomach sank in fear at the implications that that statement had.

"I will not have you fulfilling that duty yet." 

 Zuko chanced a look up at his father, shock evident on his face at the mercy he was being shown.

Ozai's fingers tapped against the arm of the throne impatiently. "Well?" He drawled out, his voice like venom.

 Zuko quickly turned his gaze back to the floor, his head bowing even lower to almost touch it. "Thank you, father." He sputtered out, trying his best to keep his relief from entering his voice.

"You should be grateful for my mercy." 

"Yes, father, I am very grateful."

"However, just because I have granted you mercy on some of your duties, does not mean that I have granted you mercy on all of them." Ozai stated firmly, his burning eyes still glaring down his son. "I expect you to make yourself useful."

"Understood, father."

"You shall be Azula's nursemaid." 

 Zuko met his father's gaze again, his eyes wide with disbelief as the words echoed throughout the throne room.

"What? Father, I-"

"You dare defy me?!" The flames lining the edges of the room rose to lick the ceiling, the temperature making Zuko's skin feel as if it was peeling off.

"No, father." Zuko quickly corrected, dropping back into a bow. 

"Then do not question my orders. You shall start nursing Azula tonight, is that clear?"

Zuko had a million questions, but Ozai's tone left no room for them. "Yes, father."

"Now get out of my sight, and stay out of it until you have made yourself useful."

"Yes, father." 

 Zuko clambered up, his aching limbs protesting the action, and scurried out of the throne room as fast as he could.

 

   The two guards stationed on either side of Azula's bedroom door only gave him a small nod, barely acknowledging him as he approached. The shorter guard wasn't even attempting to hide her disdain for Zuko, her sharp eyes glaring daggers into him. Zuko ignored her and knocked on Azula's door lightly, a small part of him -a cowardly, shameful part- hoping that Azula was already asleep despite knowing her strict routine meant that she would not be going to bed for another half hour.

 Zuko had been tempted to come earlier, to let Ozai see him fulfilling his duty, but he had resisted the temptation. As much as he longed to please his father, this was ultimately about Azula, not him. It felt too personal a moment to let their father invade. Zuko wanted Ozai not to taint his first time trying to nurse Azula as much as possible. 

"Come in." Zuko was so lost in his thoughts that he almost didn't hear the response that was tinged with a hint of exasperation. Azula probably figured that it was a servant who was asking for permission to enter, but was holding her tongue in case it was her father. 

 Zuko twisted the door handle with shaking hands and slowly creaked it open, not meeting Azula's intrigued gaze until it had closed quietly behind him. He wanted to lean back against it, the urge to approach this as nonchalantly as he could rising in him. He didn't though, afraid that the guards may hear them through the door despite its thickness. Zuko was sure that word had spread around the palace already; subtlety was hardly a concern for Ozai, but that didn't mean that the guards had to hear the conversation they were about to have. 

"Zuzu?" Azula's voice broke Zuko from his thoughts and he realized that he had spaced out, his body frozen by the door. Her brows were furrowed, her usually smug expression replaced with confusion that was carefully laced with concern.

"...Azula..." Zuko began, inwardly cursing his own awkwardness. He crossed the room carefully, Azula's eyes following his every step, until he got to her bed. He slowly sat down on it, sinking into the soft material, his hands fisting tightly into the silk sheets.

"...Zuzu?" Azula repeated, placing her brush down on the vanity, uncertainty swimming in her eyes as they searched Zuko's own. 

"Come, Azula." Zuko beckoned quietly, patting the space beside him on the bed. "Sit." Zuko looked away from Azula's intense stare, the golden irises reminding him almost too much of their father. "W- I have something that I want to talk to you about."

"What's this about, Zuzu?" Her eyebrow raised curiously as she rose and padded her way over to settle beside her brother; not quite touching, but close. Even the familiar nickname, usually said in a mocking tone, had softened- an attempt to latch onto any comfort she could in an uncertain situation perhaps. 

"I...I...well, you see...I..." Zuko struggled to find a starting point, his hands nervously fiddling with the expensive fabric of his pants. 

Azula huffed in exasperation that only sounded half genuine. "If you aren't going to tell me anything, you can get out of my room." She snarked, but it lacked the bite that it usually had.

"I'm going to be your nursemaid from now on." Zuko blurted out, deciding that it was best to just get it over with. 

Zuko kept his gaze pointed at the floor, not wanting to confront the emotions that he imagined were crossing Azula's face- shock, disbelief, sadness, anger, disgust; any one of them could be what she was feeling and Zuko didn't know if he was ready to face any of them. 

"What?" Azula's voice was disbelieving, a dry laugh bursting forth from her lips. "Don't joke with me, Zuzu." She hit him on the shoulder but it was really more of a soft tap, and when Zuko looked up to meet her eyes again they betrayed her true feelings.

 She was uncertain, she wanted to believe that this was some joke, a prank that Zuko was pulling on her, but she could tell by his serious tone that it wasn't. Zuko also could see an emotion he saw far too often in his sister's eyes: fear; however he could tell that it wasn't fear of him, but rather fear of the unknown. Of course she knew what nursing was, she had had their mother and several nursemaids before, but this was different. She had never nursed from her brother before and had never imagined a scenario where she would.

 "It's not a joke." Zuko shoke his head solemnly, trying not to let his nerves get the best of him, determined to be the strong one. "Father asked me to." More like demanded, he belatedly thought, but Azula knew as well as he did that their father never asked for anything. 

"I see." Azula's voice was deceptively level, a practiced skill from years under Ozai's thumb. She dropped her gaze to the comforter, her eyes boring into it as if searching for something hidden within the blood red silk. 

"Hmm." Zuko hummed under his breath, not sure what else to say.

He slowly slid his outer robe off, the sound of the fabric shifting almost deafening in the quiet room, and let it fall onto the bed in a rumpled heap. 

"Zuko..." The use of his real name halted the elder sibling's movements, shaking hands paused on the task of untying his shirt.

 Zuko met Azula's eyes again, the fear written plainly across her face threatening to crush his heart. "It's alright, Azula." He tried for comforting words, his expression twisting up into a sad mockery of the smile that their mother had used to give him when he was scared. "You've got nothing to worry about." Azula's eyes flickered, doubting. "I'm not going to hurt you."

The 'not like our father' floated in the air unspoken, the words almost tangible in the tense atmosphere.

 Zuko reached over, squeezing her hand lightly, and Azula flashed Zuko a small smile; it was full of uncertainty and fear, but it was there.

 Zuko continued undoing his shirt, trying to ignore the voice in his head that informed him that he was probably too young to produce breastmilk. Even if he had presented early, his breastmilk might not come in for another few years. But, even if Azula was blatantly Ozai's favourite child, Zuko couldn't count on him not to demand that Azula rely on Zuko's breastmilk alone for nutrition. Zuko couldn't count on him not starving his own daughter because of Zuko's own failure to produce. Zuko at least had to try, even if the idea made his stomach roll with uncertainty and his skin prickle with nervousness. 

 Zuko slid his shirt off to join his outer robe, resisting the urge to cover up as Azula's gaze dropped to his exposed chest, her eyes tracing the flat outlines as if seeing it for the first time. Zuko reached out to Azula, trying to calm his shaking, hesitating before settling a hand on her shoulder. Azula tucked her legs up and shifted her body to face him, years from experience spurring her to go through the motions without needing much direction from Zuko. 

  Neither sibling said anything as Zuko gently pulled Azula into his lap, their small size difference making it difficult to position properly. Eventually they settled into a comfortable enough arrangement with Azula pulled to Zuko's chest, his hands supporting her, and her lips mere centimetres from his nipple. Azula hesitated, her hands coming up to cup at her older brother's breast, the warm heat splaying over his racing heart. Nerves rolled off her in waves, her soft pup smell soured with them, and she was very stiff, her body rigid and shaking slightly in his arms. 

"Just relax, Azula." Zuko dipped his head down to murmur in her ear. "I've got you." 

 Azula took a steadying breath and tried to relax, shifting closer to Zuko before darting out her tongue to give his nipple a testing lick. Zuko flinched slightly at the odd feeling but said nothing, his arms tightening around her. Azula gave another tentative lick and gently placing her lips over his teat, her eyes glancing up at Zuko for reassurance. 

 Despite the weird sensation of it all giving him tremors, Zuko was quick to comfort her. "That's it; good job, Azula." 

 Azula relaxed further, sealing her lips fully around his nipple and giving a few small sucks. The suckling grew more demanding, insistent, as time passed and the milk still refused to come out.

"It might take a while for my milk to come in."

 Azula nodded, understanding, but kept suckling at Zuko's breast, clearly enjoying the moment despite the lack of sustenance. Zuko carded his fingers through her hair, his arms starting to ache from holding his sister up for so long, but he didn't dare move them. Azula was the most peaceful that he had seen her probably ever and he wasn't going to do anything that may ruin that for her. It wasn't long before Azula's sucking slowed, unlatching her mouth and letting Zuko help her into a seated position. Zuko slid his shirt back on and outer robe back on, pausing only to wipe at the spit that had accumulated on his chest.

"Was that...?" Zuko didn't finish his question, trailing off as he realized that he had no idea how he should finish it. 

"It was fine." Azula's words were cut, but her tone was still soft, her voice still dropped to a whisper. "Now get out, I'm tired." 

 Zuko could tell that she just wanted to have some time to herself more than anything and rose from the bed, letting out a small yawn as he did so. He paused by the door, his head turning back towards his younger sister.

"Same time tomorrow?" 

 Azula pulled the sheets back and crawled up onto the mattress; Zuko could see her falling back into the shroud selfishness and blind loyalty that she constantly surrounded herself with, her shoulders high and proud, and her back perfectly stiff. The girl who had been suckling at his breast almost a moment ago was gone, replaced by a stranger that he knew all too well. 

"Make sure you're on time." She said it flatly, like a command. Zuko saw through it though, that it wasn't an order, but a question. He knew that she was as desperate as he was to have something, anything that gave her warmth in the cold palace.

"Of course." The edges of Zuko's mouth twitched in a smile, and he ducked back through the door, closing it behind him and letting out a long sigh.