A/N: Ack. This is 6 days late. I'm sorry. And holy crap, I haven't written fanfiction in a while. Also, maybe you should watch the scene where Azula breaks down before you read this cause i didn't do a very good job of describing it.
;Mirror mirror on the wall, who's the greatest one of all (?);
[the question mark is only there for traditional purposes.]
The princess stands in front of the mirror, arms held out, away from her body. Attendants clad in maroon robes rush timidly through the room, and a young servant kneels at the side of the girl, holding a bowl of pitted cherries.
"Hurry up, chop chop," the princess orders in irritation. "My arms are getting tired." She deftly picks out a cherry and pops it in her mouth.
The attendants hurry to fasten her armor and loop her hair into the proper, royal bun, attaching the headpiece.
The torches in the room burn brightly, and the princess smirks at her reflection.
Azula (-calculating, manipulative) walks out of the room.
/
[she's falling apart and no one knows.]
The princess stands in front of the mirror, examining her fingernails. Handmaidens brush the small tangles out of her long hair and adjust her sleeves and boots.
"Make it look perfect," she snaps, scowling at her reflection, for in a few hours she is going to help her father lead the final attack on the Earth Kingdom.
She can almost feel Sozin's comet arriving. The torches crackle insistently as if they share her premonition. The servants finish styling her hair, and the princess walks out the door.
The new armor weighs a bit heavily on her body. Mai and Ty Lee's betrayal weighs heavily on her mind.
/
The princess stands in front of the mirror, angrily trying to loop her hair into a bun. It droops and drags, and the girl's face morphs into a scowl. The bags under her eyes are dark and noticeable. No. She will be Fire Lord today. She will look perfect.
"All right hair. Time to face your doom," she announces in a lilting voice. She brandishes a thin pair of gold scissors, and grips her bangs. Slice. Dark hair falls crookedly to the floor. The princess smiles.
"What a shame. You always had such beautiful hair." No. No no no.
"What are you doing here?" she hisses in disbelief.
"I didn't want to miss my own daughter's coronation," Ursa says, as if it were obvious.
"Don't pretend to act proud. I know what you really think of me." The princess turns away. "You think I'm a monster."
"I think you're confused," her mother says softly. "All your life you've used fear to control people. Like your friends, Mai and Ty Lee."
"But what choice do I have?" the girl exclaims, turning sharply. "Trust is for fools. Fear is the only reliable way." She pauses. "Even you fear me."
"No," Ursa says with conviction. "I love you, Azula. I do." So much conviction.
The princess's chin quivers. With a wordless cry of anger, she throws her hairbrush into the mirror, and her mother disappears.
The torches burn dully against the walls of the room and glass shards decorate the floor.
Azula (-broken, unstable) collapses on the ground crying.
;Broken mirror on the floor, who's walking through the asylum's door (?);
[it's not much of a question if everyone knows the answer.]