some lyriclets, taken from requests on LJ. hmm... I think this week I might try out "a night at the movies." prompts are fully encouraged; I'll start off with 'The Prestige' (to be posted soon). be sure to read the warning/disclaimer in "microfics i," plz.

you were my sun, you were my earth
you didn't know all the ways I loved you
-- Cry Me A River, J Timberlake

Far in the distance, there's a point where the sun touches the earth. It's a point Azula cannot see; here, it only touches water -- Azula thought she'd gained some semblance of freedom when they allowed her out of her cell, only to find out that she's a prisoner all the same. She's stuck on an island, ocean on all sides, no sight or sign of mainland anywhere.

So. Land is a thousand miles away (or might as well be, for all it's worth), as is any chance for escape and freedom, as is the nation she was supposed to rule, as is everything that is comfortable and familiar to her.

As is Ty Lee.

Azula sits by the water's edge. If there's any salt on her face when she thinks about the acrobat, surely it's from the ocean spray.

***

I was on to every play.
I just wanted you.
-- Shadowboxer, Fiona Apple

Azula watches the boys when she is seven. They are physical, often abusive with each other. They are competitive, tough, and vulgar. The best compliments they give are backhanded, the way they show affection is with a hard push.

Azula watches the boys when she is fourteen. Their little games are much different now. The boys' words are saccharine; Azula thinks it's a waste of would-be solid Fire Nation spines the way they bend before Ty Lee. She doesn't know how the game has changed, or why, but she can feel the weight of Ty Lee's sly gaze on her whenever she shifts those golden eyes away in disgust.

Azula makes it a point to shove Ty Lee down into the sand after their kuai ball match.

***

As the silence is growing between us
Seems both you and I know
The words unspoken
The questions hanging in the air now
I can't see how we're getting anywhere
-- I Can't Explain, K-Otic

Ty Lee, Azula thinks to herself with something akin to irritated affection, is a wondrous bottomless pit of noise.

It's true. Along with her endless reserves of energy and ability to manipulate her body into nearly every position imaginable (and some that aren't), Ty Lee is a constant source of sound. If it's not some off-the-wall comment or random speculation, it's a joke or story or memory or observation that fills the air, more than enough chatter to make up for Mai's bored silence and Azula's scheming quiet. Mai once noted that Ty Lee could out-babble all the brooks in the Water Kingdom; Azula retorted Ty Lee could out-babble all the brooks in all four kingdoms combined.

Nothing changes when Azula leans over Ty Lee's sleeping roll and unsheathes that pointed smile of hers. Noise -- moans and sighs and whimpers and groans and grinding. Azula never pays any attention to the words themselves, but she always takes note of the tone: lazy and satiated, energetic and exuberant, soft and almost shy, high and demanding, delighted, contemplative, peaceful -- she's heard it all.

But she's never heard what fills the tent now: silence.

"Ty Lee." Azula finally says, testing the sharp syllables of the other girl's name, unused to the lack of white noise. Ty Lee turns her head to acknowledge the princess, but her eyes are flat and the air is heavy with something Azula neither wants to name nor consider. She turns those amber eyes of hers away in dismissal; it is the first time she can recall (first time ever?) she's broken a look between them.

That silence will be very similar to the one between Ty Lee and Azula when the Princess stares Mai down and the water boils and hisses beneath them.

***

I've fallen down, so [hurry]
I think I'm broken far beyond repair
It was me that let you get away
And now it is my cross to bear
All these years go by
And still I wish our fates they would collide
Hear my whispered calling
And come save me, love
And make me feel alive
Make me feel alive
Open up my eyes
Make me feel alive

-- Alive, Pollicer

The Fire Nation palace has an extensive library, which is no fantastic secret. What is impressive is the sheer number of writings stuffed into the place; so many volumes and scrolls and texts in one room that it seems far larger on the inside than then outside -- which is no small feat when it comes to the royal residence.

Azula would sometimes frequent the place as a child, lingering over books about strategy and notes describing ancient battles. Ty Lee would try to get her interested in other things more suitable for her age, like fairy-tales, and would often read aloud to the Princess: All that is gold does not glitter, not all those who wander are lost...

The Princess' cat-gold eyes remained fixated on the text before her, refusing to meet Ty Lee's face.

And now, all these lonely years later, that face is beginning to slip away from her. She knows precisely who to blame.

"I have a proposal for you, brother," she says during one of Zuko's weekly visits. The Fire Lord's brows raise in surprise; he can count the number of times she's spoken to him since their last battle on a closed fist. "You set me free."

Zuko knows there is always more to Azula's words than meets the ear. "And?"

"And that's that." The Princess leans her head back against the wall, eyes slowly sliding shut. It is difficult for Zuko to see anything with her gaze hidden from him. The Fire Lord is about to dismiss her words as preposterous and deny her so-called proposal, but Azula's low whisper splits the silence: and Zuko is not sure whether it is addressed to him, or herself, or someone who is absent.

"Not all who wander are lost."

What perturbs Zuko the most about this is that her voice sounds strangely similar to Ty Lee's.

Azula walks now, her back to the palace with its limitless texts, to her Fire Lord brother and his wife, to the nation she loved and served with every fiber of her being. She knows she is but a dead woman walking, alive only in name -- she is no more a threat to anyone than the bone-dry pages of the most ancient books in the library, the ones that threatened to crumble to dust if but touched wrong.

She won't truly be alive until she finds her heart again. Home is where the heart is, Ty Lee had once read to her.

Azula is a long way from home.

***

But I don't care what they say
I'm in love with you
They try to pull me away
But they don't know the truth
My heart's crippled by the vein
That I keep on closing
You cut me open and I
Keep bleeding
Keep, keep bleeding love
-- Bleeding Love, Leona Lewis

Though one would never have assumed it from her later grace and skill, Ty Lee was an awkward adolescent. Caught in the twilight between girl and woman, she was all leg and arm with large feet that more resembled turtleducks' paddles and hands that had not yet started to grow past their childish length regardless of the strength they held.

Azula, of course, was evenly-proportioned and even more elegant in those years of hormones and changes. Was she ever anything but?

Ty Lee's gangly limbs don't deter Azula from slipping into the bed Ty Lee is resting in during one of her several visits to the palace. The Princess might rumble menacingly as a stray elbow or misplaced heel strikes her (Ty Lee thinks the thunderous rumble Azula assumes her voice resembles is more like a high mewl and giggles to herself; Azula isn't completely immune from puberty) but she doesn't move. Ty Lee knows there is a Thing between them that wasn't before: it lies in the few fractions of a second that Azula allows her gaze to linger on Ty Lee before moving her eyes to other things; it is in the air between them like a mist that only they are privy to; it is lightning replacing fire -- sharp, sudden, blinding, fearsome, different.

Ty Lee knows enough about court life to know about Things and Differences. Because Azula is a Princess, their Thing might be overlooked. And because Azula is a Princess, their Thing might be made into a rumor: a wild, wicked being that once brought to life, could never seem to be fully vanquished; it capered in the shadows and gibbered just behind everyone's ears, and it grew a thousandfold if it involved a Thing that was Different.

"You shouldn't be here." Ty Lee whispers into the darkness. "They might find out." Her voice hisses into the pillow; she recalls Princess Ursa's words of warning all too well: The palace is a small place, Ty Lee. A sparrowmouse cannot sneeze without every catfalcon saying Agni Bless You.

Azula's hand is resting against Ty Lee's hip. It's a half-embrace, but one that feels more natural to Ty Lee than the furtive glances she's just begun to notice that boys are sneaking at her.

"I don't care." the Princess says, and it is far different from Azula's dismissive "I don't care" when something displeases her or Mai's dry "I don't care" at just about everything. Ty Lee knows it is the Thing speaking for Azula, through Azula. She knows it is Different.

She doesn't care, either.

Ty Lee lets her eyes close and shakes off the feeling that Azula is trying to say something else, that she has used those three words as substitutes for three other words that would define their Thing that is Different. Her hand finds Azula's, still against her hip, and she laces their fingers together. And there in the dark she lets their Thing take its nourishment from their quiet breathing and tentative touch; at long last when they finally both fall asleep, their hearts strike together as one strong, solid beat.