Turtleducks
By Nikkel
(c) to Nickelodean, Michael Dante DiMartino, and Bryan Konietzko
She rounded the corner, fingertips reaching out and brushing the brick pillar, leaving marks of ash. Slowly and tiredly her footsteps padded in front of her, bouncing off the wall to her left, the right side completely open to the courtyard. She let her hand wandered away from the crimson pillar to the mahogany handrail, resting on it only briefly. It didn't remain long, for she rounded into the courtyard, the friendly sound of singing birds and buzzing cicadas inviting her in. She would be its sole occupant, the sunlight blazing against her armor, heating her up more than she already was. The temperature was soaring, a single bead of sweat rolling down her temple, but she didn't care. She took a place in the shade, alongside a royal pond. She pulled her knees up to her chin, arms latching around her legs, scrutinizing her reflection.
Confused, gold eyes stared back.
Azula simply didn't understand. What had she done wrong? She replayed the scene in her head…
"Do it again." The low, menacing growl of her father repeated from the dark shadow of the room. Azula glanced at him, his phoenix eyes reflecting the soft, orange light of the candles. He was growing impatient. Taking in a deep breath and looking in front of her, she focused herself on taking a step forward, hands and feet relying on each other for each fluid movement. Her breathing was steady and calm, inserted perfectly at each coordinated punch or strike. It was a firebender's motions, each step placed with energy and emotion, even though her face was hard with concentration. At times a jet of flame burst forth from her knuckles or a light fire crackled between her hands, and by the end of the two-minute drill, she was left panting.
"Again."
"Dad I'm tired." Azula complained, looking weary. It must have been the sixth or seventh time she had gone through the form, flames and all, on top of their current training session. Ozai's face didn't twitch or drop its stone mask.
"Again, Azula."
"But this will be the eighth—"
"Don't question me." His tone turned to venom. "Do the form."
She had to look away from him to focus. As she had done before, she stepped through the motions, and was about to turn directions when the tall silhouette of her father loomed above.
"How many times are we going to have to do this?" He hissed. "Are you looking to be a failure like Zuko?"
"No. But dad I'm ti—"
"What did I tell you about that voice?"
"I'm sorry. I didn't—"
"Don't apologize to me, Azula. Don't feel sorry for anyone, not even yourself. It'll make you weak. Do you want to be weak?"
"No."
"So do the form correctly."
Now a little more driven with anger that he wouldn't allow her a break, she went through the motions, her fire burning brighter and hotter this time. She hoped that it would please him to see her this way, riveting with emotion, because if it was chaos he wanted, chaos he would get. It only made sense that he got what he deserved.
"Azula!" He shouted in the middle of a punch. He was suddenly beside her and snatched her up by the arm, grasping it tightly. Her eyes went wide with shock, paralyzed by his tight hold, instantly cutting off the circulation to her entire arm.
"Ow, dad, that hur—"
"I want you to get out of my sight."
"What?"
"This lesson is over." Ozai glowered, and released her with a rough toss. Azula stumbled backward, staring at her father, who receded back into the shadows.
What had she done wrong?
She couldn't figure it out. She had done the form so many times she could have done it in her sleep, and couldn't find any flaw in it. But there was a problem in it, and it made her father angry. She didn't like her father angry. She admired his royal power, and had seen what terror he could reign in an Agni Kai, but feared that strength if it was used upon her. She would have to push herself to her limits, which had already been done on certain occasions, in order to fully please him. If she didn't, it left a sinking feeling in her heart, which she was feeling at that exact moment, gazing emptily at the pond's surface.
The annoying quacks of the turtleducks caught her attention. She looked up and past her reflection at the mother duck, who tended to the semi-circle crowd of her children, apparently finding some food for them to eat and share. But there was one duckling, Azula noticed, who repeatedly squeaked and circled for the hen's attention. The mother didn't so much as turn her head to look at her child, who was pushed out by the rest of the hatchlings. The young turtleduck squawked and bleated for her attention. Her little feet paddled beneath the water, swimming zigzags and sending ripples across the mirrory surface. It even paddled past Azula, who was soon glaring at it.
"You're pathetic, you know that?" She grumbled at it. She knew exactly what it wanted, but could already see that it wasn't going to get it. She hated to look at it swim around, crying, sad and lonely. It was really rather disgusting, a twisting feeling bending in her gut. She wanted it to shut up, stop its pity.
Her right hand slipped off of her leg and beside her. Her hand landed on a medium-sized stone, smooth and oval-shaped. The baby turtleduck continually cried out. She gripped the rock and threw it.
It took a while for it to surface again. When it did it let out a tiny whine and puffed its feathers at her, swimming in the opposite direction and taking refuge on the other end of the pond.
"Hey! What are you doing to the turtleducks?"
Zuko. He had somehow approached while she had been fixated on stoning the duckling. She looked up at him with a smirk on her face, but her eyes were cold; sarcastic.
"Feeding them." She replied nonchalantly.
"No you weren't! You just threw a rock at it! That's mean, Azula."
"So what?"
"Aren't you supposed to be with dad?"
It took a moment for his sister to answer. She clenched her fists briefly, her smirk fading. "It ended early, dumb-dumb."
"Why?"
"It just did, okay?" The child prodigy stood to her feet, glaring dangerously at her brother. He didn't need to know about anything that happened between her and Ozai, it was none of his business. And she definitely didn't feel like sharing it. She walked past him and across the lawn again, planning on going back to her room, when a delicate hand landed on her shoulder. It was her mother.
"Azula, honey." Ursa spoke softly, as she always did. "Where are you going?"
"Oh, I was just going to go practice my do-san form." She forced the innocent smile, though what lie underneath went undetectable.
"Would you mind waiting a moment? Zuko and I were about to feed the turtleducks together. Would you like to join us?" Ursa asked politely, not wanting to force her daughter into the situation. She was never a woman who wanted to emphasize too much pressure on her children. Her hand still lingering upon her shoulder, Azula looked back and over to Zuko. He sat in the shade where he had been, looking curiously at the turtleducks, laughing at their antics.
"No, no thanks. Dad really wants me to practice. He says that if I'm good enough, he'll show grandfather."
"Oh." Ursa's smile fell, and she looked worriedly at her daughter. "Well, don't push yourself too hard. Be careful."
"I will." Azula charmed, finally shrugging the hand off and heading back up the stairs. As Ursa strolled towards the pond, she quickly took refuge behind a pillar, peeking out from it as to watch her mother sit down beside Zuko. Feeding the turtleducks was more commonly than not a mother-son situation. Ursa held a few crumbles of bread in her hand and reached out across the water. She dipped her finger into it, attracting the turtleducks. Watching this, Azula had to pry herself away from the pillar. She had to practice her form, her firebending. She needed to. It would be the only way to make things better.
"Hey mom, want to see how Azula feeds turtleducks?"
And the little prodigy walked away.
