MadMeijin: She crossed some lines, that's for sure. Sokka is definitely very hurt by this. And Azula is very confused and conflicted.
Alyce Reide: Lmao Zuko was taken aback xD "Also, vestiges? 'Visages' means faces." That's probably what I meant lmao. I (bad author vibes) never proofread anything before posting lmao.
gemsofformenos: "The part of her personality which is linked with them as well. And so does old habits kicking in as well. Azula do see her mistakes it seems but this only increases her reflex to isolate herself, to fall back in well learned protecting mechanism." She's definitely having difficulties again and she's throwing up walls once more. Like you said, she has trouble grappling with that someone might actually love her in spite of it all so she's pushing people away before they can push her away. "Weak to allow Sokka getting so close to her, weak for allowing him to see her fragile and helpless, weak for having allowed Long Feng to capture and torture her." And this is another huge struggle for her, feeling like she'd been weak. So she kind of regresses. "And poor Sokka. All the fears he has seen at the swamp seem to come true right now." This struck him really, really hard because he got his hopes up only to have the worst case come to pass."It seems his trust in their love has been futile." This devastates him too. "Great job and an awesome chapter. Have a wonderful day and keep on having fun with your stories." Thanks again! I had a lot of fun with this one and the chapter you're about to read!
AnnaCromwell: "I binge read this in one sitting and safe to say, I am hooked." Thank you so much! It's always such a delight to know that a fic of mine is so well liked that it was read in one go! "I just hope Azula and Sokka are able to work past this roadblock, and I hope he doesn't give up on her." I won't give any spoilers here. ;) "You're doing a fabulous job with this story, and I can't wait to see where it goes!" And thanks again! It always means so much to hear stuff like this!
Her world is tainted in purple, she can only see purple. When she closes her eyes it is still there and, though it is a muted version of the color. Purple drips in her eyes, and she sees the world as though she is peering through a window freshly spotted with rain.
And she is cold.
So horribly cold.
She can't feel her fire.
They are all around her and this time they have faces. One is Ting-Lao's ugly bearded mug. The man's face is narrow and shrew-like. The one next to him is a woman, fairly young and with short hair. And the man next to her is bearded and somehow both burly and scrawny at once. She realizes that it is his chest that is burly but his arms are significantly less so.
Those arms reach out to place a gag in her mouth, they have tired over her shouting and infuriated cursing.
She realizes with horror that they aren't gagging her for the sake of doing so. But rather they are stuffing the veins into her mouth faster than she can safely swallow them. She can't breath, she can barely even manage faint choking sounds.
Her mouth is filled with the taste of rancid water and fish and a tinge of something more earthy. The texture is slimy and slippery and all around unpleasant. She grasps at the air, reaching for some involuntary snatch for air. They show no mercy and less regard for her humanity as they pile more vines into her mouth. They catch in her throat and tighten her chest. She kicks her feet as far as the restraints will allow.
The purple in her vision fades as tears slip from her eyes, twin trails of agony that closely resemble the trails of saliva and swamp water that leak from the corners of her mouth. She isn't sure how long this has been going on for but she is well aware that she should be dead having been deprived of oxygen for this long. Yet she continues to suffer and they continue to pile vines down her throat.
They begin to slide unpleasantly down the entire length of her throat, which is swollen and bulging with them. Her mouth is overflowing with them, spilling vine juices and Agni knows what else. She finds that she wants to just suffocate already, if only to be done with this. But slowly, the vines work their way into her stomach and some relief comes to her throat.
It is short lived, they are heaping more vines into her mouth to replace the ones that have just left.
She almost wishes that they would begin slicing and cutting as usual. At least she is familiar with that brand of torture. This...this is new. This is terrifying. Like drowning but without the comforts of liquid.
She feels bloated and fatigued and utterly hopeless. She knows that no one is coming to help her. She knows that she can't help herself. She can now feel them coiling about in her belly. She worries that they may erupt from within her.
At some point she becomes desensitized to the vines being forced into her mouth. That sensation is all but gone when she begins to feel wriggling under the flesh of her arms and legs.
The unstrap, hoist her to her feet, and tell her to bend. She eyes them desperately, almost pleadingly but they insist, "waterbend."
But she can't.
She can't even firebend.
She can barely even hold herself upright, she feels so tired and heavy and nauseous.
She falls to her hands and knees and hurls. She doesn't try to stop herself, she needs to purge at least some of the vines before they kill her. But they fight back, they latch themselves to her innards and cling until she is only dry choking.
She flops onto her side too weak to muster even a tormented moan. Azula lies in a heap, simply breathing. Breathing until a clump of vines sloughs out of her mouth. They are glowing purple. She notices now that her arms are as well and her tummy, and likely her neck as well.
She feels the vines pushing against her as though she is with child. She know what is about to happen. She knows it and she is horrified. She can only manage a small whimper before it does.
She is reduced to a ribboned version of herself, with vines wiggling from the bloody mass.
They peer over her as if their experiment has been a success.
.oOo.
For the fifth night that week, Azula wakes in a state of potent dread, her face slick with nervous sweat. She is grasping reflexivly at her throat, a phantom burning lingers within it. The nightmares are back and they are twice as vivid and with real images to play upon. These are more paralyzing than the one she had just awakened from. At least this one she can say is out of the realm of possibility. Not like the ones where she watches them dissect her; a sleeptime replay of the truth.
On most nights she wakes with her heart racing and her eyes watery and this time she has no one to reach out to.
Between the nightmares, the re-acquired loneliness, and the real fear that she is being persecuted, Azula's head pounds constantly. The last time she had slept good was a week or so ago.
This time no one has come to check on her, setting in stone that she has burned a very delicate bridge.
She thinks that she may lose her mind at any moment. Perhaps she is already in the process, she certainly doesn't feel right. A disconnect, similar to what she felt with her memories, is beginning to settle in. She wanders the palace in something of a haze.
She is getting jumpy again, the thought that Long Feng might be sneaking people into the palace is becoming pressing. She can't imagine that Zuzu will put much thought into thoroughly checking who he newly hires, especially not for her.
Azula notices that she is pacing and brings herself to a halt. The scars on her arms and belly seem to flare up and inch more intolerably than ever. She feels faint and leans herself heavily against the wall, slumping to the floor with her hands gripping her head.
She thinks of Sokka. Of how he had held her so close, of how he could usually talk her out of the chaos in her mind. She decides once and for all that she has made a mistake. Despite it all, despite any history, she is sure that it no longer matters. Not when he had been so good to her in a moment of weakness when he very well could have taken her down permanently. He had been so caring and she had pushed him away over what? Things that happened years ago, a silly feeling that she was supposed to hate him.
Azula isn't sure how long she'd sat there, mind racing uncontrollably, but there is a sensation of pins and needles in her arms and legs. She is both thankful and distraught that no one has taken notice of her.
She forces herself to her feet, her legs are wobbly as she makes her way down the hall. With a deep sigh she resigns herself to what needs to be done. It will be a whole lot easier to take herself to Dr. Yu-Kang than it would be, to be forcibly escorted.
Anyways, she needs someone to talk to.
A tap on her shoulder barely registers.
"You don't look so good. I can tell, and I'm blind!"
"Why are you talking to me?"
Toph shrugs. "Just because Sokka and Katara are mad, doesn't mean I have to be."
The relief she feels is almost palpable, but she refrains from completely unloading on Toph. That's what Dr. Yu-Kang is for. Instead she replies, "I'm fine."
"Okay, you're not even putting effort into that lie."
"I'll be fine." Azula insists. "I just need to...I need to speak with Dr. Yu-Kang."
"Your therapist?" Toph asks.
Azula nods.
"What for?"
"A lot of things." She mutters.
"Like how Sokka's mad?"
"Among other things, I suppose." She replies matter of factly. The urge to unload everything onto the earthbender persists. But she can't afford such a display of weakness at the moment. Not when so many people are furious with her.
"You wanna talk about it?" Toph asks. "I'm not a comforting person but I can tell you to man up."
"I'm not a comforting person either." Azula shrugs. Evidently she has been trying to tell herself to acquire herself some thicker skin. "I can take care of myself."
"If you say so." Toph shrugs. She begins to walk away and Azula wishes she had said more. Though she isn't sure what to say. Regardless, Toph turns back around. "Hey, if you wanna, I don't know, light stuff on fire and throw rocks at stuff with me, just ask."
"I'll...consider." Azula says. Though random acts of destruction isn't what she constitutes as a good time, she is willing to part take if it means having at least one person who doesn't resent her.
.oOo.
Sokka has long since learned to sense anxiety on the fire princess and she is exuding it very strongly. He has a nagging and impulsive itch to go and comfort her as he normally would but he is done playing games. He is certainly done wasting his time on someone who would throw him aside over things that happened so far in the past.
From the room over, he observes her slip into a chair and wait for her lunch. When it is set before her, she stares at it for a good while before actually eating it. After she finishes it, she pushes the bowl aside, rests her arms on the table, and buries her face in them.
He doesn't think that she is crying.
If she is, she is doing so very silently and unnoticeably.
He thinks that she might have fallen asleep.
"You doing okay, Sokka?" Katara asks.
He shrugs, "still pissed." He folds his arms over his chest and fights to keep his voice low, Raava forbid he wakes that dragon. "I just wasted so much time. You told me so. You all warned me but I thought that maybe helping her out would make a difference…"
"To be fair, it did with Zuko. No one blames you for having hope." Katara smiles. "And no one is mad at you for being a good person."
"I am!" He shouts. He flinches and looks in Azula's direction. She must be out cold.
"I know that Aang was happy to see you so optimistic."
"And he wonders why I'm a pessimist." Sokka grumbles.
Katara rolls her eyes. "If you keep crossing your arms like that they're going to get locked in that position!" Katara declares. She nudges him lightly, "come on, let's go walk by the turtle-duck pond."
.oOo.
Azula takes a deep breath as she approaches the guest bedroom. This idea, this new idea is probably a much better one. Yet she dreads it all the same. She gives the door a knock before she can second guess herself.
She hears footsteps approaching and very briefly locks eyes with Sokka before the door falls open and she is beckoned inside. She catches the briefest flicker of something in Sokka's eyes, it is probably hatred.
She slinks inside and slumps down on the sofa.
"Is everything alright?" Dr. Phang asks. "Have the side effects not cleared?"
"The treatment went fine. Perfect in fact." Azula responds.
He tilts his head in confusion. "Then what are you doing here?" He clares his throat. "I inquire with all do respect, princess."
She waves the apology off. "I'm here because it went perfectly."
Again, Dr. Phang looks almost comically perplexed.
"I…" She trails off. "I want you to erase my memories again. All of them if need be." She never takes her eyes from him.
The man parts his lips but remains silent for a time. "Would you like to speak with Dr. Yu-Kang, princess?"
She swallows, "that is my backup plan."
"Then it is a good thing that you had a backup plan."
"I am your princess and I am telling you…"
"Having your mind and spirit energy tampered with just once is extremely dangerous. Twice, is treading very dangerous waters. Thrice…" He pauses. "What you're asking me to do is to ravage your mind. Forgive me, princess, but I study chi and spirit energy to aid people, not destroy them."
Azula finds herself massaging small circles on her temple.
"I can contact Dr. Yu-Kang, if you would like."
"Yes, please." She says very softly.
.oOo.
Sokka steps back from the door, his stomach fluttering with secondhand sadness. He knows that this is a conversation that he wasn't supposed to have heard and he doesn't think that he should stick around and let it be known that he had.
He should just make his way back to his room and forget about it. She made it very clear that she wants nothing to do with him. He lightly raps on his forehead with the heel of his hand. But why would she ask him to wipe her memories again if she didn't feel some sort of regret?
He answers himself with a forward, she doesn't want to remember what happened in the compound. Still, something keeps him rooted in the hallway.
Just as he makes up his mind that he is going to mind his own business, the door opens and he finds himself looking her directly in the eyes.
Exhausted, weary eyes.
He opens his mouth to speak but she shoves past him, Dr. Phang in tow. He has an impulse to catch her wrist but he knows that taking her by surprise is never a good idea. At best she'd jerk away, at worst he'd be met with a faceful of fire.
Anyhow, he doesn't think that he should care.
But he doesn't like her posture. The way she is almost slouched as though her head is too heavy for her neck.
He supposes that he has invested too much time into this, whatever it is, to just let it fail. With a long sigh he catches up to Azula. "Why can't you just apologize like everyone else does?"
Azula's frown only deepens and her eyes grow dimmer.
"I'll stop being mad if you just apologize."
She presses her lips firmly and stubbornly together.
"I'm serious, I won't forgive you if you don't say it."
He didn't realize that an expression could get that dark and forlorn.
He tries a lighter tone, "You did it the last few times."
She holds her silence.
With the old Azula reawakened and in the way, he is almost sure that he isn't going to coax an apology from her, not now that her mind is rooted back in old habits.
She turns back to Dr. Phang and quietly requests, "perhaps I should go to Dr. Yu-Kang."
"Okay fine, you win!" Sokka bursts out, his hopes plummeting rapidly. "We can talk about things." He doesn't think that she will take him up on his offer.
He watches her take a place propped up against the wall. "You're dismissed for the moment, Dr. Phang." He isn't sure how she can still sound so authoritative.
The man offers a slight bow. "I will be in the guest room, you know where to find me."
He takes his leave and Azula lets herself slide down the wall. For a while she only stares blankly at the opposite wall. He can tell that she wants to cry but she doesn't
He wishes that she just would. She is always calmer when she just lets it out. "Talk."
Sokka finds that he has no dialogue to offer, he didn't think he'd get this far. He didn't think that he was going to even try. "You said that you didn't want to talk to me."
"I didn't." She sticks to her word. "Not at that moment."
"Then why did you tell me that I was wasting my time?"
She is quiet for another very long stretch of time and he thinks that it is his cue to leave. He shifts his weight and she speaks up again. "You made me angry. I wanted to be left alone."
"And I left you alone." He points out.
"Not that alone." She mutters.
"Well then when would you have wanted to talk to me?" He asks. "I wasn't going to wait forever."
"I can force Dr. Phang to get rid of my memories again, it will be easier…"
"Since when have you ever taken the easy way out of things?"
"Since the hard way became unmanageable." Azula replies. "I know when to back out of a fight that I can't win." Somehow she looks tireder still.
"You can win this one though."
.oOo.
Azula swallows. She should have kept walking. She should have just hustled onto that boat and back to Fire Lake. "Can I?" She asks. "It's been over three years since I started it…" She feels so drained. So spent. "I'm tired of fighting."
Sokka's fingers seem to twitch. She speculates that he has just thought better of placing his hand atop hers.
"I think that I lost my memories because the universe knew that I couldn't deal with them anymore." Her soul feels as heavy as she had in her dream. She feels just as suffocated too. Each and every instinct she has screams for her to shut the hell up. To stop admitting weakness. But one single, particularly loud instinct pushes her to continue. "I don't want to be alone again...it only took me a few days with my memories and one conversation to push everyone away."
Sokka blinks.
"I can keep doing this or I can erase everything again with a note to myself that I don't want my memories back and then I can move on."
Sokka rubs his hands over his face. "I can be patient." He says. "I should have been patient. It takes time to get used to...everything."
Azula shrugs, "patience wears thin eventually no matter how long the supply is."
"Do you really think that it will take you that long to get it together?"
He truly does have such a way with words. She rolls her eyes, "yes, I do."
"I don't think so."
"You need to back your claims with proof."
"You wouldn't have sat down and talked to me like this before, would you have?"
She considers. "No."
"Well then…" He nudges her.
"Don't do that." She scowls.
"Sorry." He mumbles.
A part of her almost feels bad, he is trying which is more than she can say. She wants to joke and jest but she can't. She isn't comfortable with it anymore. She doesn't know why she can't just be comfortable with it. It used to be so easy. She rests her face against her knees. For a moment she clutches her head but then she releases her hold and simply hovers her open hand slightly above her head.
"It would be better if I just…" She trails off. "I was easier to be around. People liked me more when…"
She doesn't need to look up to know that grim, tightlipped expression is on his face. "If I can't love the real you, is it love at all? I want to love you, not a half version of you."
.oOo.
She looks up.
Her lower lips seems to tremble. Still she doesn't cry. He really, truly wishes that she would. He finds himself saying, "just let it out."
"What?" She utters.
"Just cry already." He laughs.
She shakes her head, "not a chance."
"I've already seen you cry several times, I can list them off if you'd like."
At this she cringes and her nose scrunches. "Don't." For a moment she looks faintly humored, but this fades quickly.
"I won't." He replies lamely. "But I don't think any differently about you for crying. You're still the most terrifying person I've ever talked to." She misses the affection in the comment completely and seems to grow dim again. "I mean that in a good way. You're fierce! You know, like dragons!"
"You're horrible at this." She mumbles.
"I'm trying, doesn't that count for anything?"
She catches him off guard with an affirmative nod. "Yes."