Wounds
"…and you are not to let her out of your sight. She hasn't done anything but sit there since her admission, but the Fire Lord has told us that she's a very skilled manipulator. Ling! Are you paying attention?" The hypnotic effect the uneven stone walls had on Ling was momentarily broken by the shout, and he found the will to half-focus on the instructions given to him. He rubbed his eyes and scratched his head, watching strands of his short brown hair fall onto his uniform, blending in with the dull shades of grey and black.
"Uhm… I get that I'm supposed to take care of her, take her to the mess hall and make sure she doesn't get hurt, but I don't see how all the security is going to cure paranoia, Renshu. If we want her to get better, we should treat her like a patient, not a prisoner." Ling looked into his superior's eyes for a moment, manipulating the hem of his vest, then locked his gaze on Renshu's chin, silently congratulating himself on a new record for eye contact with something other than his reflection.
"Ling, you know perfectly well why we can't risk any breaks in security. Azula is a firebending prodigy, regardless of her mental health. If she gets violent, we need people who can subdue her before she causes any serious harm." Ling heard the name, his eyes distant as he shook his head. Princess Azula, He thought, I never would have thought she'd end up here, of all places. "She's not doing anything, though. Shouldn't security wait until she's actually responding? If nothing else, it's a waste of manpower. We already have people in here who need to be in restraints." He sighed as his next few seconds of eye contact gave him his answer. "Fine, I'll do my job. But I still say the guards are totally unnecessary."
"Orders are orders, Ling. Now follow me; it's time to meet your patient."
---
Ling kept quiet as he walked a few steps behind Renshu. He kept his focus on the lumpy, uneven wall, his eyes attempting to trace patterns and pictures in the haphazard stone. Out of nowhere, he spoke, cutting what had been a comfortable silence. "Hey, Renshu," he said.
"What is it, Ling?" Renshu asked, a subtle note of irritation beneath his voice.
"You know the walls here?"
"What about them?" Renshu asked, giving the worker a sidelong glance
"Uh… they're… forget it." He mumbled, going back to finding order in the walls. Sometimes I hate talking to sane people.
They walked in silence, and Ling lost interest in the disorganized walls. Those walls must have been hewn by someone with the coordination of a boar-q-pine. They look terrible. Ling shifted his attention to the floor in front of him, looking at the various cracks and scuffs on its surface. "Well, this is it. Go in there and introduce yourself." Ling looked up at the iron door and sighed. I can't believe this. Maximum security? She's catatonic! The two guards nodded their helmeted heads and stepped away from the door, snapping to attention. Ling peeked through the window and frowned.
The first thing that stood out was her hair. Locks of it hung at uneven lengths, disheveled and unkempt. Nobody did anything to fix her hair. Did I walk into the right building today? I'm starting to think this is really a prison. Ling sighed, knitting his eyebrows. Her robe, at least, was clean. Granted, Ling noted, it was the same robe every patient wore; the folks who doled them out had to keep them clean if they wanted to keep what little they made. Taking another good look at the young woman sitting on the scuffed floor as she stared at the wall, Ling pushed open the door to the room.
Azula didn't react when the metal door hinges shrieked (though Ling made it a point to wince), staring at the uneven wall. Ling made a series of small folds in the hem of his vest for what felt like the thirtieth time since he talked to Renshu, then walked next to the former Firelord. "So, uh… do you see any pattern in that mess of a wall? I can't seem to find any in that mess."
No response.
"Do you mind if I sit here?"
No response.
"You know, if you don't say anything, I'm just gonna think you're not objecting."
Ling carefully sat down a few feet from Azula, perpendicular to her position. "I'm sorry, but I forgot to introduce myself. I'm Ling, your caretaker. I'm here to escort you around the facility and make sure your stay here is a pleasant one. Does that sound good to you?"
The wall continued to hold Azula's attention, and Ling's eyes flitted from the floor to the exit.
This is gonna take some work.
Three weeks had passed, and Ling was losing both hope and patience. Azula wasn't responding to anything, not even complaining about anything. She did everything automatically, moving, eating and sleeping like a machine rather than a young woman. Unless prompted to, she sat on the floor and stared blankly at the wall until she either fell asleep. The only time she moved was when they walked to the mess hall, and this particular constitutional was as quiet as ever. Ling frowned. I've never had a patient stay this blank. Most of them at least smile, look around, or at least start getting difficult by now. "You know, I'd rather you were screaming at me like my last patient than just staring into space. At least then you could let me know how you were feeling."
Azula walked even-paced next to him, staring at the floor as though he'd said nothing.
Frowning again, Ling stared at the floor, folding and spindling a corner of his vest as he walked. Between Azula's persistent silence and the constant presence of guards, that particular corner of his vest had already worn thin to the point of being threadbare. It isn't right. It isn't going to help to have all this security! What was Renshu thinking, accepting an order like that? Did he even think at all? What kind of--
Ling's mental rant was cut short by the sharp counterpoint of hot soup spilling down his front when one of the cleaning crew walked face-first into him. Gritting his teeth and taking a sharp breath, Ling looked up at the clumsy worker, who still held his bowl with a dumbfounded expression. For a moment, Ling stared at his nose (never at the eyes, no, not even now), eyes wide and intense. "I'm curious," Ling said quietly, "why do you have food outside the mess hall?" The cleaning worker opened and closed his mouth before stammering "I, uh, I was hungry, and it uh, it was my break, and…"
Ling's patience reached its limit.
"Did you even think for a second that you could have eaten in the mess hall?" Ling shouted, "That the mess hall is the only place you're allowed to eat, which everyone is told on their first day? Do you even think at all? Go get a mop and clean this up! You're lucky I didn't smack you for this!" Ling gestured wildly as he berated the worker, pointing his finger at him and glaring at his forehead. The young man ran away from Ling in terror. He'd better be going to the supply closet if he has any sense in his head, Ling thought with no small amount of venom.
As the worker rounded the corner, he heard something from Azula's direction. It was over almost as soon as it registered, but he could have sworn it sounded like a laugh. He looked at the young woman he presumed catatonic, and saw a sign of progress: a smile. It isn't exactly a nice reaction… but I'll take what I can get.
