Azula feels sick.
It's rotting her stomach (but that's nothing new) and a furious river of bile is clamouring up her throat, hot and scorching and scarring.
She is a princess, not some filthy peasant reduced to this… this… punishment from her own father.
But it burns in her mind, the horror, the humiliation, the… scandal. How Azula, sweet(horrible) pretty(ghastly) Azula like a marionette performing a pirouette, an endless loop of violence as she dips and twirls in this illusion of life… this this… disgrace brought amongst her from the beginning.
And she knows it's wrong, that after all this time, his menacing and intimidating glower with his tawny ochre eyes, his twisted ways and terrorizations, that Azula loves him.
And no not in a father-daughter way.
She loves him like a lover.
Stronger.
Azula can't help it. Ozai is good looking for sure, a strong masculine body, a firmly set jaw. He can't appear to look over thirty (even if he is). Azula, poor dear mad Azula, she's trained to be distorted, like a surreal painting. Maybe that's why she's so loyal. Because she loves her father a little too much.
The memory, it burns in her head, as she lays, her chest pressed against the ground, her hair dishevelled and her eyes red and raw, pain emitting through her body.
It's yesterday, and Azula slips into her father's room, her mind a mixture of cloudy alcohol and frenetic maniac thoughts. An influence of corrupted infantile unravels through her mind and she giggles giddily (which is just so… unlike Azula) and she twists her way to where her father lies, half-asleep. Her black hair frames her face and her lips are pouted seductively.
And she tries, even if she's half mad. She tried to prove her love. Je T'aime, A La Folie! But Ozai isn't that contorted. And he's livid at his daughter. How low can she sink!
And so here lies Azula, on the floor, her body burnt and tortured because she was daring enough to prove her devotion and love. Her face is blank, her eyes now closed. Ozai hasn't killed her, no. He still needs her, but she's broken, broken inside so badly that Azula is never to be rebuilt, like a glass heart smashed against granite.
Pirouette, single step. Won't you spin me around like a marionette?
A/N
So hi! I'm shifting from Harry Potter to Avatar! I love this song 'Pirouette' by Lisa Mitchell and it sort of portrays how Azula is just like a puppet for her father. I dunno about this, I'm not too fond of it. It has many takes to the original plot. Anyway I'm suggesting that Azula pleases her father because she loves him unconditionally. And no, not another happy ending here. XD Sorry this failed, sorta. XD
