Chapter Ten: Waves of Memory

It had been months, endless months. So many months, that Azula had dreadfully lost count. The time had been dull and normal: her assigned guard visited her every single day, never missing an opportunity to pitifully poke fun at the dispossessed princess, but despite the constant, unwavering dedication to time, she lost it one day. She did not know how or when, what or why.

She was clueless to it.

What was robbed of me this time?

My throne, honor, title, sanity, freedom…

My innocence…

What more can I possibly lose?

Her mind did not remember anymore…

My memory…

Her tokens of her travels, the jewels of her victories, the truths of her logic, those precious, priceless things that were once nestled deep in her mind had lost their shimmering sheen, their brilliant color, their fabric of existence.

There was a frown where a smile once was. In all of her time in the rotten prison, snapshots were all she had, snapshots of all that was not worth her thoughts.

All of the detestation in her life, the venom of fatality, the schemes of manipulation…

The unfathomable temptations of my curiosity, the tear of innocence like a slit to the throat, the mortality of the inner flesh, the baby of my womb.

Yes, the baby of my womb…

She was quite a few months along, nearing the beginning of her third trimester, as was her best guess. The insomniac in her eyes stared at her unseen, invisible baby. Her soft hands rubbed against her tight stomach, taking note of how little she had grown. Her ribcage was still quite more prominent than her pregnant abdomen, as were her full breasts. The soothing sensation of her touch was pleasing, gentle no doubt. Her eyes had slowly closed as a relaxing calm took over her distractions.

Maybe for once, this child is a beautiful miracle.

Maybe the burden is worth much more than I give it.

A tiny, faint kick gave her a sudden jolt. The lack of room in her uterus gave the baby a need to protest. The child had done this a multitude of times before, but the perplexities and wonders of it had not ceased to amaze her.

Over a course of months, this child went from an embryo to a fetus, remaining entirely human and untouched throughout the whole process.

I was that way once.

Pure and innocent, my once prideful attributes, had left me with age.

Why did I allow the earth to taint me so? Why did I allow Father to bend my body to unthinkable limits?

Why did I allow Chan to steal my virginity?

Why do I carry his child in this prison?

The memories were pushing so hard against her brain that a headache gripped her skull. She placed a hand on her sweaty forehead, taking in her bodily heat. For the betterment of comfort, she rolled over onto her left side and propped her head on her elbow to add on some leverage. She unconsciously recalled that she had learned that this position did not cut off blood supply to the uterus, as do the many others. She took a breath of fire and it streamed out of her nostrils. She was overjoyed that her vomiting had ceased quite long ago, and it had not bothered her since. Though of course, she still had the lingering doubt of being caught pregnant. She had never felt comfortable with her situation to blatantly admit it to the warden.

The silly ass in him would see it as playful banter, reckless conversation.

This is my secret.

Our secret…

The thought gave her a nudge into recalling the first time she had met Chan, on that Ember Island beach, not so long ago. The instant their eyes met he gave a flicker of hope to her cause; she gazed wondrously at it even after they had unlocked the vision. Once she had heard his name, she recalled his powerful father, a tremendous ally to Ozai and the Fire Nation's naval forces. From the moment her feet stepped into Chan's home, she clumsily flirted with him; she deduced it to be a fluttering heartbeat that had overwhelmed her.

But inside my head, all of this unclaimed bouncing.

There is more to it, more to it than silly words.

I questioned it the night he took my innocence.

Had I loved him then? On the beach, up on that wooden porch, did we kiss in passionate adoration? Did I take in the warmth of his form, press my hands upon his skin, seal his lips into my own?

Oh, memory, come back to me evermore…

Her ears pricked to the sounds of rushing water, waves pushing and pulling against the night moon's unbreakable force.

And my eyes saw those waves that night. My eyes saw the sand that it rushed toward. My eyes saw a few loving couples that resided down upon it to confess their love to one another.

But why could I not?

Why did the words not come?

Why did I fall silent?

Is this the reason why I did not utter a word to Zuko? Because I knew that my shyness would scare them away?

Memory…

Her mind began to twist on her. A dusty form of a picture appeared in front of her. She saw herself in Chan's enveloping embrace, hair flailing down her face.

It seems so innocent, kind, friendly.

But he was on top of her, pushing, grabbing, hurting her. His hands were massive, tightly gripped at the collar of her shirt in an angry stranglehold. Tears were in her eyes; they flowed down onto her slightly taut shirt. She gazed at him, confused at his ruthless gestures, but closer, closer, their faces almost touched.

But his eyes…

Her own eyes widened wildly. Her heart pulsated with a strenuous effort; she felt it seem to jump into her throat, cutting away at her voice. She tried to let the pain out but the jargon left no audible sound for ears to hear. She could see the bars of her cage swirl around her, constricting her form in the tiny cell as it seemed to swallow her whole.

But his eyes…

She took a deep, dark look into those eyes.

She squinted to the vision, noting that those eyes were not in love, they weren't even Chan's.

Father…

"I need a suitor, an heir to the throne. That is all I ask of you."

She turned away from him in disgust, crossing her arms at his figure, perhaps her first gesture at rebellion against him.

I listened to you, Father; I gave in to your will, your command.

I gave in to the Loyalists that serve you, the proud Admiral Chan and his son.

His son…

The one I now love…

There, I admitted it.

In all of those months that she had spent alone, in all of those months that she had spent in ignorance of her heart, she felt a burden lift away from her chest.

In her victory, she took in the newly formed frown on her father's lips. He pursed his lips and scowled at her, his jaw clenching at the sides of his mouth. At that, he disintegrated, leaving no trail to his existence.

Azula sighed in relief, letting the airflow in and out of her lungs. She stood up and gave herself a pat on the back.

No more, Father.

In this bloody war of loyalty, the conception of this child was not in your hands. Your influence in Chan did not rub off onto me. I have it in me to commit mutiny to you, as you are not the dominant in my life anymore.

Chan is the only one who can dominate me now. It is not out of surrender, not out of lack of dexterity and breath.

It is out of love.

Chan's harmonious voice began to play in her head, the memory was slowly returning to her.

"Let it be known that someone finally conquered you…"

You…

Let it be known…

Yes, yes, I will…

She began to scream out in a faked rage. The tossed herself recklessly, but assuring her baby's safety the whole time. Her hands slapped against the walls as she yelled and slobbered, giving quite a performance that even impressed her.

Her normal guard, the silly woman, gave a questionable look to her. Even she understood that Azula, at her lack of memory, had returned to silence. This show was quite out of the ordinary, considering her constant mental state.

"What, princess?" she barked menacingly.

Azula, with Crocodile Tears running down her face, stared almost helplessly at her. She then smiled, the first the guard had seen from her, and she put her face right up to the bar. This startled the guard; she stepped back to prove it.

"For so many months, you have taunted me, distressed me, brought me into an endless anger, but enough of it.

"I am done with you, guard. I never needed supervision, and as the Fire Nation's princess, I request the presence of the warden."

Azula shot her fist out at the girl, wishing that her finger would stick up too, but she controlled her rage.

"Bring him here, I have something I need to tell him."

The guard stuttered, "A-ah of course…Princess."

Azula watched as she left. She then backed away from the bars of the cell and sat back, questioning herself, almost reprimanding herself.

What was that, girl? This is uncharted territory. Do you honestly believe that the warden will even believe you?

All of this for Chan? What happened to that vigor of dominance in you? Why would you admit that Chan is your superior?

Where did the real Fire Nation princess go?

The sound of shuffling feet interrupted her. She peered up as the door to her cell opened. The warden, prideful and gallant, entered and the frown on his face showed that the disruption had clearly bothered him.

He unlocked the cage stepped in front of her. He spat at the floor and puckered his lips, his chin wrinkling with his age.

"Why have you called on me, Princess? Make this quick, I'm not interested at all in conversing with you."

Azula gave no distressed reaction to his words; she remained straight-faced as if she were speaking with Koh, the Face-Stealer.

She then spoke, "Listen Warden. I have been hiding something that I am now willing to reveal."

"What?"

She swiftly took a tight hold on the warden's hand and pressed it against her stomach. The awkward position took its toll on the warden; he felt the beads of sweat form on his forehead.

Azula took a deep breath and closed her eyes, keeping his hand where she had placed it.

Her mind raced for words, but she settled on the appropriate phrase quickly.

"Tell Zuko."

The warden withdrew his hand from the disposed princess, "Tell him what?"

She smirked at this, "You mean that it isn't obvious?

"Tell the Firelord that he is going to be an uncle…"