gemsofformenos: Thank you :) yeah this was a bit of a break for her. She found someone to travel with, it was the little thing that she needed to help her keep going. And yeah, Sokka is willing to feel this new Azula out and get to know her even if it takes some time. "I love the way you're showing how Azula learns new things to value in life." Thank you! That's going to be one of the themes of this story. I plan to format it with a flashback that ends with what she learns. "she has acted before to work on herself to find company." But yes, she still has some things to fix with herself and some ways to grow as a person. "The idea of Azula with an accent is so adorable" :D that was one of the aspects of the story that I was most thrilled to work in there. A small detail but I thought that'd it be cute. "It has shaped put an Azula who values company and care, who trusts and values unconditionally given love and care." And exactly! She's still Azula of course so she's still weary and can be standoffish but she's in a healthier state. And thanks again, this story has been a lot of fun to type so far.

starbuck151: And thanks again! :) Lmao yeah Sokka's definitely the kind that would treat his lover like royalty...especially if they are royalty lmao. And yeah, Azula totally basks in that but doesn't want to admit that, that sort of thing makes her feel secure.

It is only after they part ways that Azula realizes she hadn't gotten his name. And she thinks about that for a long time afterwards. It is a stupid thing to have nagging her in the back of her mind. A trivial matter. He was a friendly face and a good companion but she didn't know him all too well.

They'd spent a good week or so together. He helped her craft some tools like a good fishing spear and a bow and some arrows for hunting. She has an abundance of blankets so she traded one for a pan to cook her fish and game over.

They had talked a good deal, nothing of where she is headed or where she had come from. She didn't have to drop a false name because he didn't ask for one at all. There had been an unspoken courtesy, a knowing that she didn't want to be known. So he settled for talking of his wife and of folklore that he'd heard during his travels.

She warned him of a rather troublesome group of bandits just to the south of where she had been before she'd entered the plains.

Azula steers her mongoose-lizard towards the skyline. She can see the outlines of buildings through a thin veil of mist. She hopes to be there before the clouds open up and soak her to the bone.

The man had told her a tale about how he and his wife had been in a thick forest huddling in a cave as they waited out a storm. He claimed that they met a spirit there; one that looked like a rabaroo but spoke like a child. They followed it out into the storm and it led them to a babe. They had taken the babe in and that, that was why he was on this journey. To trade furs and other goods for coin. He promised his wife that he'd have them plenty of food by the time he got back and toys too.

The village is in unobscured view now. And so her nervousness unveils itself too. There is always a pinch of nervousness when entering a new town; the smaller it is, the greater her sense of foreboding.

She is more elusive in the bigger towns. In the smaller villages they want to get to know her.

She is almost certain that there is another larger town some miles away but she is just as certain that she won't beat the storm. As though to diminish any figment of doubt, she spies the first fork of lightning stab into the cloud diagonal from it. She urges her mongoose-lizard to move faster. She reaches the village as the first drop of rain spatters on her cheek. The streets are desolate save for a vendor who had been late to pack in. The woman's hair whips into her face. A face screwed up in distress and concentration.

The wind is certainly picking up, it blows a few more fat droplets into Azula's face. She hears the woman cry out as she fumbles with the protective tarp and it flies from her hand.

The sky opens up with a fury and Azula chides herself for pausing to gawk. The woman takes notice of her and she inwardly berates herself a second time. And then a third as she steers her mongoose-lizard towards the woman. She slides down from her mount and grabs the other end of the tarp. The woman grunts at the effort of securing it.

"Why did you wait so long to close your stall?" Azula questions over the storm.

"Why didn't you plan your travels better?" She shoots back.

"I noticed the storm miles back. I can only get my mongoose-lizard to run so fast." She swats at the wet strands of hair that plaster to her forehead and finds herself relieved that she had chosen to chop it short. The other woman doesn't have such luck, her hair is flapping into her eyes and sticking to her bare shoulders.

"Thank you for helping me."

"I was hoping that you could give me a place to wait out the storm."

The woman rolls her eyes. "So you're that sort."

"That sort?" Azula asks. She wishes that the woman would have this discussion with her inside.

"You do things for things."

"Well yes, that's how it works."

"Have you ever done anything helpful just to be generous?"

She thinks for a moment. A moment that turns into a minute and then a span of time long enough for the woman to say, "I didn't think so."

Azula frowns. "Fine." She climbs back to her saddle, there is a decent puddle in it. It doesn't matter she is drenched down to her last layer of clothing and then some.

"Wait. I didn't mean anything by that." The woman calls up to her. "You can stay with me if you want."

But she is agitated already, perhaps wrongly so, and can't imagine spending another moment with the woman. She gives the mongoose-lizard's reins a flick and ventures into the storm. And really, what does it matter? Her sense of urgency has been washed away by having already failed to keep herself dry.

Thunder shakes the cobblestone, she hears a tree branch split. She thanks the spirits that she can bend lightning and has watched Zuko redirect it enough to have a sense of how it's done.

She finds herself an alley to steal away in.

The storm lets up as suddenly as it had come, tapering off with a few final patters. It had raged for a respectable ten minutes, but such a powerful burst can never seem to sustain itself. The village inhabitants are slower to emerge. She wonders if she is due for a second onslaught; she finds that storms like these usually come in pairs or several short sets.

She emerges from the alley dripping and shivering. Her mongoose-lizard looks just as miserable.

The streets don't fill until the sun has been in the sky for at least an hour. And even an hour later, she is still sopping wet and dripping as though she herself is a raincloud. Her mood goes darker still.

Now, with a crowd, her nerves are flaring again. As wet as she is, she is twice as likely to draw attention. She will draw it thrice over being an outsider who is unmistakably Fire Nation.

She clenches the reigns much tighter than she needs to and guides her mount through the crowd. She watches three children, two boys and a girl kicking up puddles and giggling. An older child floats a paper boat down the stream of the sidewalk gutter. The children pay her passing by no mind. That is one constant from town to town; the children are always oblivious. At least until the adults make a fuss, then they get curious. She doesn't like children, when they do take an interest in her they ask far too many questions and with all the social grace of a village drunk.

She scans the buildings for an inn. She will stay here for some time, earn herself some more coin, and be on her way. She resigns herself to the possibility that she might have to bypass the inn and sleep in the village green if she wishes to keep her earnings.

She might have to do so regardless, this village is so small that it may not have an inn at all.

As she ganders at street signs and buildings, she feels eyes on her. Most are drawn out passing glances, some linger long enough to send a vibration up and down her spine. A very particular set of eyes refuse to leave her.

"Missus, you're all wet!"

"So I am aware." She answers dryly.

"I have hair too." He beams up at her, one of his front teeth is missing. "See!" He points at his hair.

"That isn't what I said." She grumbles.

"I also have teeth, missus. But not all of them! Do you have all of your teeth?"

Azula blinks. "Why wouldn't I?"

"Because sometimes, for some reason your tooth gets all wiggly and then it falls out. My dad says not to yank it out. Or if you're like my friend's brother's dad..." He stops for a breath and starts over. "If you're like my friend's father's dad you got into a fight and got punched in the face!"

"Yes, well my teeth are fine."

"Atsu!"

The child jerks. His smile seems to dim. "That's my dad."

The man, he can't be much younger than she, approaches and with a sigh and a nervous chuckle asks, "he's not bothering you, is he?"

"Yes, he is."

The man flushes.

"I'm sorry, he just likes talking to people. I've tried to tell him that it isn't polite."

She shrugs. "Have you tried other means of discipline?" Really it is only a question that borders on being a suggestion, but the man seems to grow more uncomfortable. "Some children only respond to strict lessons and…"

She falls short watching his expression flicker into something of concern. Sometimes she forgets that the Earth Kingdom isn't so rigid with their children. "Nevermind." She grumbles, her own face growing red.

"Did I do something bad, dad?"

He shakes his head. "No. Fire Nationals tend to be...stern and blunt." He puts a hand on the boy's back.

Azula swallows, something in her belly flutters with unease and regret. She shouldn't care. She has no reason to care. But something in her itches to make a better impression. She opens her mouth to call for him to wait but she doesn't utter a word. She can't come up with anything to say afterwards. By the time she thinks up something, the man and his boy have slipped into the crowd.

Apparently children aren't the only ones that have the tact of a town drunk. And so she is left to navigate the town alone. She supposes that she should simply buy some new shoes and make her way to the city over. She has enough food to last until then.

That day she learns that children will probably be her second great downfall.

Or maybe it is something about not being so rigid?

She learns that she still isn't a good person. That she's unlovable at worst and hard to be around at best.

.oOo.

Navigating the palace for the first time in years is not unlike getting used to a new town. It is hardly recognizable, easy to get lost in, and she doesn't know many of the inhabitants. A lot of them openly and unrelentingly eyeball her as she passes. The stares aren't particularly malicious. In fact, she doesn't think that they are ill-meaning at all. Mostly they stare at her as though she is a phantasmal spirit.

"So there are some new portraits up." He gestures to the gallery. "As in some I mean, one."

She catches the faintest of jolts as he seems to recall that the feud for the throne is still a delicate topic. She eyes the image of Zuko standing tall and proud, flame in one hand, olive branch in the other. She doesn't find herself simmering and seething. It is more or less a solemn acceptance. There is a residual tickle of envy that seeps through the cracks. She thinks that it has less to do with the crown and more to do with the respect it represents. The honor she has lost and the purpose she has yet to find.

The content and peace he has found that she can't seem to grasp even when it is securely in her hands.

"He picked a fine artist." She remarks. And that is all. They are onto the next hallway.

"It doesn't bother you?" He asks.

"The only thing that bothers me is that you're starting the questions thing again."

"How am I supposed to get to know you if I don't ask questions?"

She shrugs. "Watch. Observe." She accidently meets the stare of one of the passing servants. "Like everyone else." She fidgets with the excess folds of her robe. There is a part of her that wonders if she should open up, to tell him everything from start to finish. Perhaps to slip her journal into his bag before he leaves. She backtracks, not knowing what she was thinking.

"Zuko also had a new room added to the palace."

"A new room?"

"Yeah it's full of trinkets from the other nations. He thought that it would be a nice way to show that we're trying to move away from the war."

Azula nods. "It seems like most nations are. I hadn't expected people to be so...inviting in the Earth Kingdom."

"Because you're Fire Nation?"

"That's correct."

"They didn't recognize you, did they?"

"I have a feeling that they wouldn't have taken as kindly to me if they did." She confesses. She wonders if any of the people she had met along the way would still care for her if they found her in the palace with a prettily and painstakingly styled hair and a full face of makeup. Granted, she hasn't gotten around to that yet.

"Oh! And we can go out to the garden!" Sokka exclaims. She readily allows the subject change. "That's different to. Your mom and uncle planted this tea garden and Zuko had some flowers imported. There are more turtle-ducks too!"

"That sounds nice, I suppose. Hajime would have enjoyed it."

"Hajime?"

Azula stiffins and scolds herself for letting that slip. "I'd like to see the spa, it has been too long."

Mercifully, Sokka gets the hint. "The palace spa is different too."

She frowns. "Not the spa. I liked the spa." She folds her arms. "It was perfectly fine the way it was."

"I think that you'll like the change. Come on."

At some point Azula had come to lead the way. Like muscle memory, she finds that she can still find her way about the palace. Mostly anyhow. There are things that throw her off, decor that hadn't been there before, a new portrait, or something that has been moved from one place to another. The spa though, upon arrival, is both the same and different. It still has the frameworks of what it once was but it is grander now, more elegant. The fountain and its adjoining chair are exactly as they had been and a small tree in a large pot still sits on either side of the staircase leading to it. The carpeting is also much the same and sunlight spills in through a large window on the ceiling.

But there are new dragons that join the ones already accenting the back wall. And these ones jut forward with mouths spilling flames of gold. She notices that they too are fountains that lead to miniature fountains, presumably for hand washing. There are also several small crystals dangling from the ceiling, casting prisms all about the room. And when the sunlight strikes them right, they bounce off of the jets of water. There are also small turtle-duck statues resting near the potted trees.

It is so familiar yet so changed.

She admits that she does like the change.

"Do you like it?"

"It's nice, Zuzu."

"I was about to have my hair combed, but you can go first if you want."

She would very much like that. It will take less time for them to wash her hair anyways. Where hers has been mournfully hacked, his locks have lengthened so gracefully. She thinks it somewhat cruel how he is now the one with all of the splendor both visually and in status. She feels ruefully unremarkable. "Yes, that would be wonderful."

The serving girls file into the room. "You hired them back?"

"They weren't supposed to have been banished in the first place."

She isn't sure that he had meant it as anything more than a statement of fact, but it still stings. She reclines in the spa chair, feeling terribly uncomfortable and out of place. The longer that she stays the more she feels as though she shouldn't have come back. It is one thing to be plain in an ordinary world and another to be lackluster when surrounded by splendor.