gemsofformenos: "Finally they seem to recognize the deep distress Azula is in. And Zuko and Ty Lee are willing to offer her a new chance but Mai seems to be run out of patience." Yeah they have a bit of an idea of what she's going through now. But some are more forgiving than others. And so she's still in a stuck place because she still really doesn't know how to help herself or get to a more stable place. As you said, she craves comfort. But she has trouble getting that across. "Having lost her voice is a major issue in this moment cause she finally seems to be willing to tell Ty Lee at least a bit why she keeps acting this way all the time." This is particularly frusturating for her because now that she is ready to speak what's on her mind, she doesn't have the ability. "Ty Lee takes the lead and it seems Azula's fear to lose her completely this time if she'd act against her friends wishes." And yup, this time she lets TyLee take the lead because she's afraid of doing the wrong thing and making things worse. "She keeps acting unhealthy and avoids to talk about her fears and doubts." And so this is what she kind of falls back on because, as you said, she doesn't know how to articulate what she needs help with or how she wants to do some self improvement. "she switches from lashing out at her to being super passive and to suppress her own needs in this moment." These are two opposite reactions that are harmful in their own right. She needs to find a middle ground. "Another great chapter full of sadness. Take care of you and keep on having fun with your stories." And thanks again! I hope that you have a nice night or day.

She is torn between feeling hollow and hopeful. She holds herself still and stiffly as her servants fix her hair up. It is the first time that she has bothered self-maintenance since losing her voice. They pin her hair out of her face, add some finishing touches, and send her on her way. She finds TyLee in the gathering room running through a series of stretches. Azula slips into the room and finds herself a seat.

Gracefully, TyLee arches back into a handstand. She holds the pose for some time before lifting one arm off of the ground. She spreads her legs until her body forms a nearly perfect T before closing them again. She repeats this several times over before folding in on herself and dropping into an elegantly slow somersault.

Azula sits nearly motionlessly, waiting for the woman to finish with her routine and notice her. She is mesmerizing really, fluid and with a perfect grace. She dips down and touches her toes, before parting her legs and lowering languidly into a split. Once she has lowered herself in full, she grips her ankle with one hand and extends the opposite arm above her head. She holds it there for some time with a serene smile on her face before lowering it in an elegant arc to where it meets her other hand. Her body follows along, she touches her forehead to her knee.

Azula can't imagine that the pose is any sort of comfortable, but TyLee makes it look enticingly relaxing.

In one quick and fluid motion she is on her feet once more, she turns to take a drink and meets Azula's eyes. The princess gives a little wave. "What are you doing here?"

Azula holds out a small fruit tart. She has found that she is a better baker than she had imagined, considering what an awful chef she is. Admittedly, at first it had been something of a disaster. But it had been salvaged after deducing that there was an art to it. That she only had to follow directions to perfection and add her own little touches. Her own little touches being that she had carefully carefully arranged the orange slices to make a firelily.

TyLee smiles, the sort that is complimented by closed eyes and a sort of warmth. She takes the tart, "thank you, Azula."

Azula nods.

"This is pretty good."

She furrows her brows and mouths, "pretty good?"

TyLee giggles, "it's really good, Azula."

Azula nods again and flashes a satisfied smile of her own.

"How long did it take to make?"

Azula holds up two fingers.

"Hours or minutes?"

"Hours." Azula mouths.

"You spent three hours making this for me?"

She nods. She supposes that if she knew what she was doing it would have taken significantly less time. But she decides that it was time well spent when TyLee wraps her arms around her torso. She pats the woman's back and rests her chin atop her head. And Azula knows what the problem is. The problem is Mai. TyLee is only resentful when Mai is there to rouse it out of her. Her grip on TyLee tightens some.

"You alright?"

Azula relaxes her grip and nods. "Fine." She mouths. She rummages through a small bag and pulls out some parchment and scrawls, I want to train with you. Like we used to. She lets a small flame dance on her palm.

"Sure, Azula!"

Azula's stomach flutters. It isn't unpleasant. It can only be relief. Relief that TyLee is enthusiastic and chipper again. That her mood hasn't automatically darkened upon seeing her. Azula slides down from the chair, makes her way to the large exercise mat, and throws her first burst of fire. First a few punches and then a few kicks. A series of warm up stretches and stances. After the final one she stands still and inhales as deeply as she can. She exhales. Inhales. And exhales again. Her body relaxes and she tries for one of her more elaborate katas.

She meets TyLee's gaze. "Keep going."

Azula runs through several more katas until the heat radiates off of her body.

"It's always really fascinating to watch you bend." TyLee comments. "You're just so…"

Azula tilts her head.

"It's almost hypnotizing. The blue fire and the stances…"

Azula finds her parchment again, spar with me? She puts the parchment aside and drops into a stance. She throws a few mock punches. TyLee is quick and efficient, approaching her with a few light jabs. Azula ducks and dodges and returns with a fireless windmill kick. She catches TyLee by the ankles but the girl tumbles into a rather controlled somersault and makes it back to her feet. Azula's lips quirk up. The acrobat isn't holding back today.

.oOo.

Azula sits in front of the mirror, staring at it but seeing nothing at all. She looks past her own reflection as she tries to work out the ends and holes in her plan. To a degree, she thinks that she might be stalling. That this is something that she shouldn't try to plan, she should just let it happen naturally. But that is precisely how things get out of hand. She takes a deep breath and pulls her hair up. She runs a brush through her bangs one final time. She looks decent enough, she supposes.

But decent isn't good enough, she has to look truly sublime. She has to look more than sublime. She lets her hair down again, gathers it up, and...she studies her image in the glass and lets her locks tumble back down and over her she ought to leave it down. TyLee likes when her hair is loose. She takes a smaller handful of hair and fashions that into a small ponytail.

She stands up and inspects her full image. She isn't quite satisfied with what she sees, she isn't sure what exactly it is that she doesn't like, but there is something. It isn't her hair this time and her gown is well enough; high collared and trimmed with gold. Tongues of embroidery flames rest over her left hip and fan upward and out towards her belly and chest. She runs her hands, perfectly manicured, over the fabric. A large ruby shines on her neck, maybe it is this. The ruby might be gaudy, too excessive. She removes the necklace and sets it on her dresser. The matching earrings are plenty.

She isn't quite fond of her makeup anymore either. It doesn't suit her new outfit but she doesn't feel like fussing with the servants and she doesn't particularly have the time. So she slips into her shoes and grabs her parchment. She reads over what she has written before tucking it away and grabbing a small stuffed tiger-monkey with a fabric daisy sewn onto its ear and a golden ribbon tied around its neck. It is the very same one that TyLee has had her eye on for a while.

She will hand TyLee the toy and the letter and things will be okay.

For once she will do things right.

For once she will go to TyLee instead of letting approach her.

The hallway is quiet and long enough to accentuate her nerves. It leaves her feeling twice as lonely as she does already. Twice as apprehensive. Her grip on the tiger-monkey tightens as though it is there to comfort her instead of to be given to TyLee.

She lingers outside the living room, telling herself that things will go smoothly. They had gone smoothly that morning, better than smoothly. That it will be just like sparring with TyLee, seamless and natural. She will hand TyLee her gift and her letter and they will be on their way to the capital for a fine night.

She wills herself into the room, instinctually, she makes to call out to a simple greeting. Her heart pangs when she recalls that she can't. She thinks of the letter in her hand, of how it isn't nearly as potent and meaningful as it would be to speak what is written on that parchment. She takes a deep breath and steps fully into the room. She isn't noticed. She is glad that she isn't noticed. The tiger-monkey nearly drops from her hand. Her stomach does drop alongside her mood and her hope and her motivation to make things right-she couldn't if she tried.

It is probably better this way anyhow. She is broken. Broken in many ways. She can't speak her affections. Even if she had her voice she isn't sure that she'd be able. She doesn't think that she could. Because that is another way in which she is broken.

She isn't just broken she is destroyed and it isn't fair to force TyLee to salvage the mess. It isn't fair but it is still TyLee's job. Someone has to do it and...she shakes that thought away. It is that line of thinking that makes her so unbearable to be around.

It would hurt less if she backed away, she knows that she should tear her eyes away but she can't seem to do it.

And so she watches Mai cup TyLee's cheek, caressing it, stroking it. Watches her murmur something soft, presumably enthralling and loving. Something more romantically eloquent and expressive, more poetic than she could ever come up with.

Shock turns to anger.

She watches TyLee's face absolutely light up, her eyes gleam with delight. The sort that Azula hasn't been able to induce in a very long time.

Anger fades into sadness.

She watches Mai brush her nose against TyLee's and then press her lips to hers. Her fingers still stroke TyLee's cheek and her fingers curl in her hair.

Sadness becomes numbness.

Azula slinks back into the hallway, tucking the letter away and setting the tiger-monkey on the nearest coffee table as she does.