Weak |Azula x (Fem) Reader

Chapter 39

It was like the air itself had solidified, the silence thick enough to choke on. Finally, the word escaped my lips, barely a whisper.

"Yes."

Luka held my gaze for a long moment, his eyes narrowed as if scrutinizing a map. Then, a slow smile spread across his face, a smile that sent shivers down my spine. It wasn't a friendly smile, not entirely. It held a hint of something else – triumph, perhaps, or maybe just a touch of unsettling amusement.

"Excellent," he finally drawled, his voice smooth as polished obsidian. "When my cousin Mai first mentioned you being Azula's servant... the name Y/N struck a familiar chord."

My breath hitched. Servant. The word felt like a branding iron searing my skin. But far more concerning was Luka's next statement.

"Y/N," he continued, his smile unwavering, "do you have the Great Mandena's Jewels in your possession?"

The world seemed to tilt on its axis. How? How did he know about them? The jewels, a family heirloom passed down from generation to generation, were a secret I fiercely guarded.  My dad's mother gave them him, then my dad to my mom, and finally, they ended up with me. How did this blue-haired intruder even know about my grandmother?

Panic gnawed at the edges of my composure. Across the table, Azula finally seemed to register the shift in atmosphere. Her gaze snapped to Luka, sharp as a viper's strike.

"What do you want, Blue?" she snarled, her voice laced with a dangerous undercurrent.

But Luka remained fixated on me, his expectant eyes boring into mine.

"As an archaeologist," he began, his voice taking on a lecturing tone, "I have a deep fascination with ancient artifacts. But as an antiquarian," he paused, his smile morphing into something more predatory, "I also have a passion for returning stolen treasures to their rightful owners."

He leaned forward, his voice dropping to a low murmur. "So, I'll ask again, Y/N. Do you have the Great Mandena's Jewels?"

My gaze flickered from Luka's unwavering stare to Azula's increasingly suspicious frown. The silence stretched, thick with tension. Finally, I took a deep breath, forcing some semblance of composure into my voice.
"The jewels," I began, my voice barely above a whisper, "they were entrusted to me for safekeeping. They are not stolen."
A flicker of doubt crossed Luka's face, but it was quickly replaced by a skeptical arch of his eyebrow. "Entrusted by whom? And for what purpose?"
"That," I said, meeting his gaze head-on, "..I can't answer... But know this, Luka, these jewels are not yours to claim."
A tense silence descended upon the room once more. Azula, however, was so fixated on the conversation. Sat silently like a stone with her rms crossed, her gaze burning into Luka..

Perhaps the talk of stolen artifacts was a familiar tune in the Fire Nation court, or maybe she simply didn't care about some family heirloom. It became clear that a stalemate had been reached, at least for now.
"Very well," Luka finally conceded, a hint of annoyance creeping into his voice. "But this conversation isn't over, Y/N. As for my journal..." He gestured towards the worn leather-bound book on the table. "Know this Y/N...I'm on your side. During my journey around the different nations, I've documented things...some clues to the history of the Great Mandena's Jewels. Are you willing to help me decipher it?"
The weight of his question settled on me. The journal, a potential key to my past, a past l desperately wanted to bury, now intertwined with the mystery of the jewels.

I stole a glance at Azula, unsure of how she would react to me assisting Luka, especially if it meant unearthing secrets. But her face remained a stone mask.
Taking another deep breath, I met Luka's gaze once more. "Perhaps," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "What exactly do you know about Funiku?"

— ——

A peal of laughter, sharp and almost manic, erupted from Luka. "Aha! Knew it!" he crowed, slamming his fist on the table with a force that rattled the teacups. "Mai mentioned something about earthbending on Funiku being a little... unorthodox. Makes way more sense now!"

He leaned back in his chair, a triumphant smirk plastered across his face. "According to these ancient scrolls," he gestured dramatically towards the growing pile of parchment threatening to topple over, "Funiku Island wasn't always an Earth Kingdom territory. In the earlier ages, it was a thriving Water Tribe settlement!"

My jaw clenched. Thriving? My memories of Funiku Island were a desolate wasteland, choked by dust and despair. This "earlier age" Luka spoke of felt like a fantastical myth.

"Apparently," Luka continued, his voice laced with a hint of awe, "you waterbenders were so skilled, you could cultivate life in an instant. Explains why King Bumi set his sights on conquering the island." He shrugged, a nonchalant air about him that grated on my nerves. "Probably a strategic move to bolster his own earthbending forces."

I stared at him, deadpan. This blue-haired interloper knew more about my homeland than I ever did. My past on Funiku Island was a shroud of secrecy, a story buried deep within the recesses of my mind. Shame, fear, and a flicker of anger simmered within me.

Azula, who had been slouched in her chair, finally seemed to lose patience with Luka's incessant yapping. "Enough, Luka," she snapped, her voice laced with a dangerous edge. "Get to the point, or get out."

Undeterred, Luka simply grinned, seemingly oblivious to Azula's irritation. He cleared his throat theatrically. "Right, right, where were we? Ah yes, the Great Mandena drought." He tapped his chin thoughtfully, feigning deep contemplation. "It wasn't until... what was her name again? The great waterbending matriarch... uh..."
He trailed off, his eyes scanning the room as if searching for a forgotten name. Before he could descend further into his act, a low voice filled the silence.

"Y/N," I said, my voice barely a whisper as I stared down at my clenched fists. "The drought was called Y/N."
The room fell silent. Even Azula paused, her gaze flickering towards me with a flicker of surprise.

Luka's smile faltered, replaced by a mixture of curiosity and a hint of something... deeper? He inched closer, his blue eyes holding mine with an intensity that sent a shiver down my spine.

"Y/N," he repeated, his voice softer now. "The drought was named after you? Your grandmother?"
I nodded slowly, a lump forming in my throat. "She... she wanted it to be my name before she passed. My father... he... obliged."

The air crackled with a strange energy. The weight of my past, the weight of the jewels, the weight of Luka's unexpected presence – it all converged in that moment, a storm brewing just beneath the surface.

"What happened to your grandmother?" Luka asked, his voice softer now, laced with a hint of unexpected concern.

I stole a glance at Azula, but her face remained an unreadable mask. Taking a deep breath, I braced myself to finally confront the ghosts of my past, the story of the Great Mandena's Jewels, and the drought that bore my name.

—-END OF ACT II —-

A/N: omg I'm so excited to share act 3 with you guys! Any questions or Theories you had from Act 1 or 2 please leave them in the comments! I appreciate you guy's comments. You guys make me laugh, and feel so passionate about writing!!

Now, prepare your tissues! Act 3 delves into the backdrop of Funiku and delves deeper into Y/N and Azula's relationship. And maybe a possible Zuko?

Anyways! ENJOY!
-MangaSpoiler