I've slightly changed the way the Mother of Faces' abilities work, though nothing too drastic. And this chapter also features Azula going into the Spirit World with Aang, which I'm pretty sure is not possible in canon, but...
Oh well.
- Chapter Two: Faces -
Azula does not dream, and she doesn't quite know that she is awake. She feels her mind stir to life, but when she tries to open her eyes, nothing happens. Something is very wrong, she realizes: her eyes don't feel like they're closed—they feel like they're missing.
She jolts upwards, struggling to use the vision that is no longer there. As she does so, she attempts to gasp for air. It t doesn't come.
She tries to scream.
Nothing.
A fear, a horror greater than anything she has ever felt before comes over her and brings her trembling hands up to her face—or, at least, to the place where it should have been. She feels nothing. Her ears are still there, yes, and her hair falls loosely…
But everything else is gone.
"Azula!"
Through her panic, she barely recognizes the voice as the Avatar's. The sound of footsteps come to her as she hears him approach.
Out of the darkness comes the feeling of a hand on her shoulder. "It's okay," he says. "I'm here."
Suddenly, she throws her arms around him like a frightened child, because at the moment that's exactly what she is. She can't stop herself from shaking, and all she wants to do is scream and cry and yell at the Avatar and kill him and find Koh and then kill him, too…
And finally, when all that is done, she'll kill herself.
But at the moment she can't do any of that because she's too busy trying not to lose what's left of her mind.
Now, she feels her chin against the strong shoulder of the Avatar and is eternally grateful that someone is beside her. As she clings tightly to his robe, staring into the shadows with nothing but her barren and battered spirit, Azula finally realizes the truth.
More than anything, she wants someone to save her.
"Azula, listen to me," comes the Avatar's voice into her ear. "I know this is scary, but I promise you: I'm going to help."
Azula isn't sure why the words are so comforting, but her trembling soon begins to slow. As it does, she hears the rest of the world begin to turn on: the crackle of a fire, the whistle of the wind, the rustle of a beast nearby—the bison, surely…
In some ways, it is all very comforting: she is still in the real world, she is still alive.
In others, she is more frightened than ever, because this no longer seems like a nightmare.
The Avatar pulls away from her embrace, and her hands wander after him in the darkness. Soon, though, she feels him take them in his own. They are calm, steady; like a quiet river…
"You can hear me, can't you?"
Azula nods.
"Good." He pauses, and even in the shadows she can tell he is hesitating. "It…it was Koh who did this to you, wasn't it?"
The white Noh mask appears as clearly in her mind as if she was seeing it again in the flesh. Rage fills her again, as does terror, and she squeezes tightly on the Avatar's hands. A shiver runs down her spine, and she nods again, slower this time.
"Right…" There is a hint of emotion in the Avatar's voice. Azula recognizes it as guilt. "I'm sorry," he says. "If only I was with you…"
She feels nauseous at the apology. That unrelenting kindness was one of the reasons she could never trust the Avatar.
But it appears to her now that she has no choice.
He pulls his hands away, and she hears him shuffle along the ground. She can't tell for sure, but she has a sneaking feeling that he's getting into a meditative position.
"I'm going to the Spirit World," the Avatar declares. "Just stay here. I'll be back soon." As the energy in the room begins to rise, she can tell he is smiling.
The Avatar falls silent, and Azula is on her own. In the ever-permeating darkness, she finds another inkling of the truth:
Azula hates being alone.
- Mother -
It's not like Azula knew how much time it took to cross over into the Spirit World, but it was beginning to feel like the Avatar was taking too long.
Though that might have just been her own fear.
With each passing second, Azula feels her mind ripping further and further apart.
It felt like a lifetime that she sat in the darkness; perhaps it was even longer than that. Unable to cry, unable to scream, all she could do was feel; remember…
In the darkness, Azula saw them together—her, her mother, and her brother. Just the three of them, alone, in that old beach house on Ember Island. Her and Zuko playing in the living room, re-enacting the final scene of Love amongst the Dragons; her mother watching the two of them, cheering them on.
"My two little actors!" she would say, wrapping up her children in a giant bear hug. "You're both amazing!"
Azula feels the big, comforting hand on her shoulder now. The spot was still warm.
But then, just as quickly as the memory comes, it vanishes, soon replaced by another, and then another: scenes from her childhood…
Her father's sinister smile as he told her she would be the one to succeed him in the future, the intense pride and pressure she felt at the words.
The rage in his voice when she would mess up a simple Firebending form, calling her a failure, telling her was as useless as the dirt under his shoe.
All the times she would try and call to her mother, only to have her be already busy dealing with that crybaby Zuko.
The sound of a familiar voice asking the heavens, "What is wrong with that child?" after she had pushed Zuko only to remind her mother that she had a daughter, too.
The sad, golden eyes of a woman named Ursa, a woman she called "Mother", who spoke the words "I love you, Azula"; words Azula had long since stopped believing.
These memories and many more swirl in the shadows of her mind now as she sits, still, waiting for the Avatar to return; and as she hears the wind in the distance and the sound of the burning fire, the thoughts of her family bring forth another.
Slowly, she extends her arm out to her side, curls her hand into a fist. She knows she can't rely on her breath; instead, she lets out all the energy she can muster.
She feels it: fire.
"Blue fire," her mother had once said, "means you're very special, Azula."
Special.
Different.
Dangerous.
Leave me alone, then! her spirit cries. If I'm such a monster, then just leave me here to rot!
She can't see her fist coming to the side of her head, but she knows it's there, in the perfect position to burn herself to dust.
Better to do it herself, she thinks, than to lose to the rest of the world.
She says her goodbyes silently and to no one in particular, and her last thoughts before her fist heats up are of the Avatar, whose hands she still felt in her own.
The Avatar…what was his name again…?
Ah, yes…
Aang.
"Azula!"
The voice shocks her straight to her feet. Without thinking, she turns her heated fist in its direction, and fires. She hears a shout of surprise, and then silence. She wonders if she's just killed the Avatar and thinks about what an incredible irony that would be.
A second later, though, the voice reappears. "Wait, Azula! It's me! It's Aang!"
Slowly, the tension holding her up slips away. A second later, she falls to her knees, finally realizing what it was she was just about to do.
Aang puts a hand on her shoulder. Once again, she can tell he's smiling. "It's okay. I'm here now—and I found someone who can help."
Though no tears come out, Azula finally feels as though she's crying.
- Mother -
Other than having her face stolen, Azula is pretty sure that entering the Spirit World is the strangest thing that has ever happened to her.
All the Avatar had to do was get into his meditation stance and grab her hand, and it was though he could reach the depths of her very soul. The next thing she knew, she was light as a feather, standing in a different place—one where the air around her overflowed with natural energy.
Now, as she stands in this unfamiliar land, she tries again to open her eyes. It doesn't work. She isn't sure about the properties of the Spirit World—hell, she wasn't even sure if it existed before today—but she gathered that since her face was stolen by a spirit, it hadn't only affected her physical body.
"So, uh, full disclosure," the Avatar says sheepishly, "I've never actually brought another human here before…but, don't worry! I'm sure the spirits will be fine with it. I mean, I am the Avatar, after all."
The levity with which he speaks washes over Azula, and she's back to thinking of him as insufferable. She's thankful for that.
She is uncomfortable when the Avatar grabs her hand to guide her, and it's not only because she's never had a boy do that to her before—she's never had anyone do that to her before, save for her mother and Ty Lee, who was so touchy with everybody that it meant almost nothing.
But the fact remains that she doesn't have much of a choice, so she lets the Avatar lead.
It's a long walk, or at least it feels long when she can't see anything. Every step sends a shiver through her, every sound a reason to fight. But the Avatar takes her ahead, slowly, surely…
"Alright!" he finally exclaims. "We're here!"
The Avatar stops, and so does Azula. There is something great about the place that they've come to; she can feel it. She hears the soft rolling of water before her and wishes, suddenly, that she could see it with her own two eyes.
"I've returned, Your Faciness!" the Avatar shouts, "And I've brought my friend with me!"
Azula hears nothing for a moment before a crashing sound erupts from the water, enough to make her jump back and squeeze the Avatar's hand even tighter than before.
A booming voice comes from every direction and lands heavily on her ears. "You dare bring another human here, Avatar!? I told you I would help you, but not like this!"
Azula is suddenly aware that, wherever he had taken her, whoever he had sought out for help, it was not guaranteed. She sinks inside. She wants her face back. Now.
The Avatar lets out a nervous laugh. "I know, I know," he says, "and I'm sorry—but we don't have the time to go find you in the physical world. As you can see, my friend here has had her face stolen, and she needs help! Please!"
Azula writhes internally at the way he describes her: "she needs help."
Not from you, she would say if she had a mouth—but that would be foolish, and not entirely true.
All she can do is let him talk for her sake.
A moment of silence passes, and Azula wonders if the spirit has silently struck down the Avatar, and if she's next; but, finally, the overwhelming voice lets out a sigh.
"This is the first and only time I will go out of my way to help you, Avatar. And bear in mind that I'm only doing this because you have stood up to that foolish child of mine once before."
Child? questions Azula, before she realizes that this spirit must be speaking of Koh.
"Thank you, Great Mother!" the Avatar says. "We're eternally grateful to you!"
"Quiet, boy," says the spirit, "before I change my mind. Now, you there. You can hear me, can't you?"
Azula realizes the question is direct at her, and she nods.
"Good. Now, step forward, and the lake will judge you before granting you a new face."
All of a sudden, she is nervous. It hasn't even been a day yet, but already Azula is scared of seeing her own reflection once again; scared of what her own face might…
…
Wait a minute…
She freezes, allowing the spirit's words to finally sink in. When they do, the Avatar speaks for her.
"S-sorry," he says, "but…did you just say a new face?"
"Of course," the spirit responds. "This one's face has been stolen by Koh. I have no way of getting it back."
Azula feels herself go numb as the truth sinks in. She is not about to get her face back, but the face of a stranger—a face that should not belong to her.
"But, that's crazy!" protests the Avatar. "How can you expect her to walk around with a face that's not hers!?"
"The alternative, Avatar, is that you leave right now, and your friend continues not to see or speak until you take her face back from my son, which, may I remind you, no human has ever been able to accomplish."
The world is quiet for a moment as Azula stands still, the weight of her past returning to her all at once.
"Azula," the Avatar says quietly, to her ear alone. "I'm sorry…I didn't know. But you don't have to do this. I'll go find Koh and—"
Azula stops him with an outstretched hand. She turns to the sound of his voice, and nods. Her actions give only one message: "I'll do it."
As she steps forward to the edge of the pond, the Avatar helps her to her knees. She wonders whether or not she would have explained herself properly if she had her voice; if she would have told him that her old face was nothing but a curse, a symbol of fear and a power long since gone; if she would have told him that for the last 8 years, every time she looked at her reflection, she was disgusted by how much of her mother she saw in it.
Now, finally, all of that would change.
She tilts her head downward to the sound of the water below. She feels the energy flowing through her, around her, until finally her head is lifted on its own.
"I see," says the spirit. "Then this one shall do…"
She doesn't scream this time, but she knows something is happening.
She can only hope that it's something good.
- Mother -
Once again, Azula does not dream. This time, though, she wakes with a gasp—a real, air-filled gasp. Her eyes shoot open, she jolts upright; and the senses she thought were gone forever begin to reconnect with her mind.
She notices—immediately—that she's in a cave. The fire burning to her right casts a warm orange light upon the walls, pushing the shadows back but not completely away. The smell of tea over the burning wood and a whiff of mountain air fills her nostrils. As she turns her head, she sees an exit through which the daylight slips in past the giant white bison that stands guard. Beside him stands a boy of 15; a boy who she had never been so grateful to see.
He turns slowly as he hears her wake. "Azula!" he shouts with a beaming smile. Rushing over to her, he slides along the ground and stops beside her. "Are you alright? How do you feel?"
"A—Avatar…?"
Her eyes widen. She sees the Avatar's face brighten.
She can speak.
Slowly, with cautious breaths, she lifts her hands to her face, and feels.
Eyes.
Nose.
Mouth.
Azula can't help from crying. She can't believe she would be so weak in front of the Avatar, and hides her face in her hands to protect that pride—but the comforting hand she feels on her shoulder pushes her reservations away.
Still, she wipes her tears quickly, recomposes. And then looks away from the Avatar. She thinks, for a second, about letting the words on the tip of her tongue fall off; she decides against it.
"Don't expect my thanks," she says. They are not the words she wanted to say, and that is not the voice with which she wanted to say them—it a different voice, a new voice. She should have realized that that was a part of the deal.
Still, though it is not her own, there is something familiar about it. She is happy about that.
The Avatar laughs her off her abrasiveness, but when he speaks, there is a sadness in his voice. "That's alright. I don't really deserve it, anyway...I mean, I'm sorry she couldn't give you your own face back."
Azula is irritated both by the Avatar's incessant apologizing and the fact that she feels guilty for not telling him the truth—but she's never had to before, and she feels no desire to start now.
"Yes, well," she begins, flippantly, "I suppose it's not entirely your fault—still, I suppose you think it's funny…the former Princess of the Fire Nation, reduced to wearing some commoner's face…"
"No, not at all," the Avatar says. "If anything, I think you actually look a little…um, nicer? And a little older, too."
Azula almost gags in her mouth. Nicer? Not the effect she was hoping for.
"Well, no matter," she says with a sigh.
She sees the Avatar look at her curiously, and his eyes ask her why she's taking this so well. But the truth, she decides, will remain inside of her, where it belongs.
"Oh!" exclaims the Avatar. "I almost forgot!" He moves to the fire and takes the hanging teapot off of it, pouring the green drink into two small stone cups she recognized from her bag. "I hope you don't mind using these—and I doubt the tea is as good as your uncle's, but I did what I could." He hands her a cup, and she accepts it with a scowl.
She wonders, for a second, why she's been so furtive since she awoke, so afraid of the Avatar seeing through her. But, as she begins to drink the tea, allowing its warmth to spread through her, she realizes the answer is obvious.
A face, for Azula, was merely something to hide behind.
CRASH!
The Avatar spins around, frantic. "What happened!?" he shouts, before seeing Azula looking down at a shattered cup around her feet and the tea that had spilled onto the floor.
She stares, unbelieving, at her mother's reflection in the tea—and suddenly, every bit of anger she felt in that forest returns to her.
"You…you're still here, are you…?"
Rising to her feet, she shoots a blue flame out of her fists towards the spilt tea. "I see, now!" she shouts over the stream of fire. "So even with a different face, you still won't leave me alone!"
Azula finishes burning the liquid into nothingness and runs. She hears the Avatar call after her: "Wait, Azula! Where are you going!?"
But she doesn't stop.
She runs right out of the cave, onto the path that leads down the side of the small mountain and into the edge of the forest. It is far sparser than the area she was in before, and as she moves, her mind focuses on other things.
Like, for example, how she feels a little taller now, at least by two or three inches; or how she may just be a little heavier, and how the body that she sees when she sees when she looks down is both her own and someone else's; how these are her hands, her arms, her feet—but they are different somehow…
Older, perhaps.
She stops as she comes across a small clearing with a pond. It reminds her closely of the one she met Koh in, but she feels none of the same spiritual pressure.
What she feels instead is the weight of her own reflection bearing down on her.
The Avatar's calls echo in the distance. The sunlight flickers in through the tall tree branches. Azula walks over to the edge of the water, and kneels…
And she sees her mother staring back at her.
It's just like before! she thinks. She's haunting me! She's chasing me! She's—!
But the longer Azula stars, the clearer the truth becomes—because her mother is no longer looking at her with sad eyes, telling her she loves her; no…
Her eyes, now, are filled with fear—the same fear with which Azula stares into the pond.
"No…no…"
She dares not admit the truth, but it is clear: her face no longer simply looks like her mother's.
It is her mother's.
Well, I feel like this was mostly pretty obvious from the summary, but it had to be done.
While Azula is one of my favourite characters, I don't claim to be an expert in psychology, and more specifically her psychology, so I guess this is kind of my own take on her. And now, she gets to stare her problems right in the face. Literally!
Please leave a comment or review telling me why you like or hate this story, I'm always looking for feedback. And thank you very much for reading!