Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar or anything associated with it except my fanfiction
WARNING: ARBITRARY ABUSE. SKIP READING IF SUCH TOPICS TRIGGER YOU
Shorter than the last one. This was meant to be one chapter. Too much. I split it apart, even if the other part(s?) end up on the short side.
It is difficult for me to write Azula. She should be someone like Lightning-on-the-Wave's Evan Rosier from the Sacrifice Arc. I did my best, but we shall see.
So far to go in this story... I will admit I was a little sidetracked outlining the sequel for you guys. I plan on writing it out like a book before publishing it here. So after I finish The Burned Prince and The Frozen Avatar, I will storm through Katara Brainwashed Remastered, then crank out the sequel to this and make sure it's actually somewhat POLISHED before posting it here. Who knows what will happen if I don't just post the instant I finish like the work I've done on this site so far?
The sequel will be very Kataang. Lots of Aangst. A more dramatic turn than Coming Together by Ba Sing Tei but still a lovely ending I hope. I just want to see what happens if I stew on a story for a while before publishing it. Hopefully it will turn out okay.
Anyone with suggestions to sequel title? I've come up with one but I don't get the feeling I want with it. I might just stick with it but we will see.
Then there's my high school au and an oc au. What fun.
Okay, back to this chapter.
P.S. Offhand Kataang Mentions
"Your earthbending form is as sloppy as your danger awareness."
Aang scowled. Even if being able to silently communicate across unknown distances had proved its importance in the belly of a floating Fire Nation prison, Aang terribly wished that Toph would refrain from committing her asides to heart - or in this case, to hand. Aang was not in a position to ignore Toph's writings, either, in case what she was motioning was actually important.
Keeping his irritation from seeping into his own response, he steadily wrote: "Sorry, Sifu. Trying my best. But how can you tell?" It was best to keep messages short; pragmatism trumped courtesy behind bars.
Toph kept so silent for so long, even throughout the thoughts that flashed through Aang's head, that he wondered if Azula had finally decided to visit her. "You as good as told me right now." Aang swore he heard the smugness even through the coldness of stone. He grit his teeth. Azula had visited Aang himself not long ago - when exactly, Aang was unsure, since there was no hatch for sunlight. He had forgotten what anything looked like except for his clothes and his rock. Upon hearing the footsteps, he shoved his rock deep within a pocket of his robes - a fraying of fabric that Gyatso had long argued with the other elders to let Aang keep instead of repairing the hole. Gyatso argued that the pocket could serve as a means to hold something small inconspicuously and would do well to alleviate Aang's mind. Aang liked the pocket, and very much did not want to tailor his clothes when he did not see a need to. Since the Air Nomads believed in freedom, at least to a certain extent, they let him keep the pocket. Now, it seemed, it would serve its purpose. When the rock was found, the jig was up. The pocket kept things alive a little longer.
He blinked, realizing he had veered off his original track of thought. Perhaps it was from what happened beforehand. Azula's guards unlocked the door, and in she swept. Her very presence brightened the room, though the light was not so much the warmth and illumination of day so much as it was the malicious sparkle that only ignited in the eyes of a firebender, let alone of the maligned offspring of Ozai.
And Azula subjected him to... well. At least he remained physically unscathed. Pristine delivery to the foot of Ozai's throne took precedence over wanton personal abuse, it seemed. But what Azula did... chilled him. Of course, it was more words than anything else, but... no matter how many times Aang repeated to himself the Air Nomads' wisdom of letting words slide by like the sighs of a warm breeze, he was... not ready for the things she had said. He simply prepared himself for the insults that would likely fly from a victorious captors' mouth: gloats over success, taunts of the futility of escape or resistance, maybe a jab or two against the Air Nomads or forcing him to eat meat, which went against his beliefs. But it became abundantly clear, from the glint in Azula's eyes, that she did not embrace "likely".
"Your little brat is surprisingly brave," she had said almost casually, a hint of sympathy and respect in her expression that Aang would have taken for genuity if he didn't know better.
As it was, he was completely caught off guard by hearing something that wasn't an insult from his enemy's mouth. Heat trickled from his face and his neck. "I was aware of such a thing." he warily ventured.
Azula clucked her tongue patiently. "Ah. But being aware and experiencing firsthand are two very different things. In fact, I doubt you even know just how resilient your precious earthbender is. I can almost see why you thought she was a good candidate to teach you in the first place." Aang noticed that Azula, instead of looking at him, was coolly studying her nails as though even visual consideration of her enemy was below her station. One fist unconsciously balled, and Aang quickly unclenched it. He did not need to show emotions. Her words did not need to unsettle him. They shouldn't be unsettling him.
But Azula kept on the offensive. "Of course, it is one of those unfortunate traits of Earth Kingdom people, one that always leads to arbitrary misery and sorrow before the inescapable capitulation and surrender. Of course, we do break most of them in a day or two. I'm actually impressed. We placed you two far apart so that neither of you could scheme with each other or even communicate -" the stone felt as heavy as a sky bison in his robes. "- with each other. But nevertheless, you should be within earshot of the screams." She chuckled softly, one for Aang's ears alone. "And before you voice the doubt. I may be many things to you, and you may think I lie. I may break my promises, I may flit from intention to intention at the whim of a moment, but I will say, and guarantee, you that every word I speak to you in this cell is the absolute truth. There is, after all, no reason to lie, not when there is no chance for escape and the war is as good as won."
Aang shook. He had no idea what he was expecting, but... Toph was twelve. She wasn't even as tall as Aang. Rumble champion or not, she was secluded and sheltered and protected to a degree where she would never have encountered suffering, let alone suffering of this caliber. And now that she was held captive in a ship, and that Azula did not keep her promise to the Beifong family... Aang growled helplessly, wishing he could help her, wishing he could fight back, wishing that he was able to do something or anything, even if it defied everything he stood for, because he did not know what Toph had to endure. And Azula had not shared any details about what she did to Toph, so Aang did not know how miserable Toph was. And she wouldn't tell. At least, not yet, because she had not broke yet and confided in Aang anything through her rock.
If Aang was feeling helpless before, he was now feeling completely useless. A complete failure.
His eyes stung as Azula droned on, knowing the effect she had on her prisoner, reveling in the anguish, a master of torture with words serving as her barb and blade, inflicting an agony he never knew, hammering at what little resolve he had with merciless abandon. "Oh, I did make a promise to her parents, did I not? The 'illustrious Beifong Family.'" Aang trembled with the effort to not retaliate. It would not help him, and he would end up more restricted than he already was, if only to break in his spirit. The irony of the master of four elements - and an Air Nomad at that! - being degraded to little more than a spoil of war was not lost on him. It did not help that she had spoke the words "illustrious Beifong Family" without even an affectation - which made it in itself the worst inflection. It occurred to Aang that Azula, exactly according to Zuko's woes and contrary to everything that Zuko was, was very controlled and psychotic and even worse, had the intelligence to be so. Aang closed his eyes and then opened them to try to disguise his despair as a very slow blink.
She did not even acknowledge the gesture with anything other than a derisive imitation, a motion easily missed by everyone else in the darkness of the chamber. But it was as clear as a brutal sunny day for the person it was meant for. It took all of Aang's efforts to not scream.
She tightened her own throat to match his.
In. Out. In. Out.
She smiled. At least she didn't copy his breathing. That would have been the end of him, if not the end of her.
But the damage was done. And, nodding very slowly, she pivoted sharply on one foot, issuing a curt command to her guards, and, forming a procession behind, they whisked her away from the cell.
Aang sank to his knees. Dimly, the voice of one particularly warlike Air Nomad elder echoed in his mind. "The strike that is not seen, is the strike that is most felt."
Toph's stone brought him back.
Unable to ignore the patterns, he pushed himself off the floor - a hard, cold reminder of the nightmare that was reality - and he pinpointed his focus onto Toph. It was better than focusing on Azula.
"Aang! Aang!" He could tell they were exclamations by the frantic, jerky movements of the stone.
Hastily, he flailed fingers inside his pocket, grabbing the stone after what felt like too long, and he tiredly said, "I'm fine, calm down. Sorry. Azula came."
He could see Toph's emotions go through an entire cycle of life: relief, annoyance, anger, surprise, concern, fear. "What did she do?" Toph wrote slowly.
Aang closed his eyes. He could be honest and tell her. Confess everything, ask her for her own woes, compare notes, prepare for the next time, anything that would reinforce the crumbling walls of resolve. He could try comforting her, in a way her parents never did for her, in a way that Katara...
Katara...
In a way that Katara did for him. Or even Gyatso. Or Zuko. Or Sokka. Even if those people were in his past, he at least had others to lean on. Toph had no one but him. "Azula just talked. Nothing crazy. Just taunts, and we know how far those go."
Toph did not move.
"After everything she's done to us from the moment she devised our capture, do you really think you can pull that one over me? You don't even write like you usually do. You're especially sluggish now."
"I'm fine." The forcefulness with which he wrote made Toph stop. Good. He was fine, and didn't need comfort. "I was just tired and had a nap, and that's why I didn't respond to you. Nothing Azula said meant anything." There. That was that. Then he remembered something from the conversation. "Has she visited you?"
This time, it was Toph's turn to stutter. "Well. Yes, but none of it bothered me, so I didn't bother telling you." There was a tone of defensiveness layered in the stiff way she wrote. Aang winced. Such behavior was probably not unique to being imprisoned - or rather, Toph was already used to being imprisoned and isolated and having to keep her thoughts to herself.
"Are you sure? You know you can confide -"
"I'm perfectly -" this she violently accentuated by writing so large that if she was Aang's height she would surely have hit the ceiling of her confines. "- fine. I don't need someone's shoulder to cry on, thank you very much. Also, I don't feel like telling you things if you won't do the same in turn."
Aang sighed. "Fair enough," he traced.
Toph's stone hovered hesitantly in the air. "Train?"
Aang practically leapt from the floor, his upbringing letting him recover instantaneously from any physical condition with little drawback. He wasn't even sore from lying so awkwardly on the floor. "Yes," he explosively wrote. "Please."
Perhaps his overeager passion for practice served as concrete proof of his unease. In any case, Toph had the prudence not to comment, and Aang embroiled himself in the sweat, toil, and pain of tying to perfect his form with only a held rock to guide Toph in her teachings.
It didn't take long for Toph to stop the demonstration. "Right arm is too low."
He stumbled mid-step and found himself on the floor again. Aang bit back a curse. "I'm literally holding the stone with my left," he wrote stiffly.
"The way you're moving. Of course, we're human. We're not perfect. My sight's a testament to that. You don't need every little motion to be perfect. But technique and bending are entirely different concepts, and since being picky will help the transition to actual bending, you're just going to have to suck it up and stop crying to me every time I find you even a hair out of line."
"But you can't even see me -"
"Just like I can't see everything else, you mean? Gee, I never knew that."
By this point, Aang was aggressively scratching the wall. He didn't even care if he brought guards down. "This entire place is made of metal. You can't even track vibrations -"
"False."
"What?"
Toph kept on writing, serenely ignoring that she had begun writing while Aang's hand was still hovering in the air. "It's not any use to us, but I can feel vibrations. Nothing that could help in this place, but I can feel every single one of your steps. It's also why I got scared before - I felt a larger thump than usual, and panicked when I started writing to you and you never wrote back. I don't know exactly where you are since metal isn't earth, and I don't know where I am, but I can feel the tremors, even if they're small. Another benefit of not wearing shoes. Twinkletoes."
Aang terribly wished that Toph was next to him so that he could grab her hand and drag it across his scowl. "Stop. Calling. Me. That." even though he paused between every word to let them sink in, something told him that Toph did not get the message. "In any case. If I'm Twinkletoes, then how can you feel my step?"
Silence.
"I mean... you're right. You won't be drawing attention from the other people on this ship. But your steps are as heavy as a camelephant's when you're practicing earthbending," As an afterthought, she explained herself before Aang succumbed to white light. "It's a good thing. This isn't your floaty-woaty airbending or wishy-washy waterbending. This is earth. Where you need to be direct, and... actually face things head-on. No finding ways around. No sidestepping. Just taking things on head first, and if it comes to it, then literally use your noggin to bash some boulders apart."
"Or pebbles."
"Yes." Even out of earshot, Toph's unforgettable laughter rang in his ears. "Pebbles too. You watched me smash one in the Rumble."
"Exactly."
Toph's rock bobbed slightly, as though it rose and fell with every breath. Aang tossed his up and down in wait, then realized that Toph could mistake the tosses for characters. "Whoops. I didn't mean to do that. Sorry."
At the exact same time, Toph wrote, "I can tell you're just tossing the rock. Your writing is done at the same speed. When your rock is in the air, it slows down before falling, then falls faster."
"Oh." Even though this was second-nature to Aang's understanding of the world, he never really regarded the fact as anything more than an interesting observation. There's a lot that you take for granted when you have all the basic senses, Aang mused.
"You distracted me. Okay. Copy my outline." Toph traced herself midpose, so that Aang could grasp what position he needed to be in. When Toph was satisfied that Aang was still, she asked him to do the same. Naturally, he always did, and always tried, but it was difficult to manipulate the rock. It was small and manageable, but the notion of floating and directing just reminded him too much of the bending of fluids, and he would always default to that specific focus and destabilize the orbit of his rock. Toph, although sympathetic, gave him no mercy.
"Focus. It's a rock. Not a feather. Not a trail of spit. A rock. Now treat it as such."
"I'm trying!" he said aloud in exasperation.
"Do it. Or don't do it. Trying is not an option, featherbrain."
Aang, utterly flabbergasted, slipped and collapsed in a disoriented heap. He heard Toph's laughter again, and could feel the heat creeping back into his cheeks. "I DIDN'T EVEN WRITE TO YOU ABOUT MY TRYING!" He winced every time his hand shot up to the ceiling and hit it.
"And you just proved my guesses again. For an airbender, you are very predictable. Which sucks. Since you clearly take the worst parts of earthbending and reject the parts you actually need."
"Shut up," Aang snapped.
Toph, about to write another rant, froze.
Aang realized that it was the first time he truly stood up to her.
"Well. Well well well. Welly well well well well." Aang flushed in the darkness. "Looks like someone's finally learning something. Well done." Aang huffed. This wasn't how things were supposed to pan. She was supposed to be nice and constructive, not point out every single mistake he made. He was to be silent and respectful. Not the... rowdy tournament Toph insisted on holding as a class.
But this wasn't air lessons or even water lessons. Perhaps that was why things were different.
"So with that out of the way, apply it to your form. Now get off the ground!"
When Azula had first stepped in for a formal visit, Toph blew a bang from her eyes defiantly. It always gave a good statement to her opponents in Earth Rumbles. Besides, blind or not, bangs always got in the way if they weren't stinging her eyes every time a stray strand swooped in to poke her eyes. She was blind; not numb.
It all changed very quickly. When she was put in her prison, she wasn't sure what to expect. But given that her captives were no longer her parents, she expected... better. No coddling. Bad food. Abusive guards. The primitive life. She expected to be treated poorly, like a real prisoner, instead of being puffed up and put on a delicate pedestal like a girl. Instead, she was treated like a lady, which she absolutely hated. It was like Azula knew that she hated it, yet did it regardless and even because of it. She was given foods with so much flavor her tongue and stomach could not bear to hold it, and when she tried retching, it was Azula herself who held her back from doing so, coldly ordering her to behave like a proper lady and to accept and eat food with grace and mien. After the ordeal, her stomach churned, but any attempts to purge herself from the sickening deliciousness failed. It was only late in her sleep long afterwards that she finally felt the urge to throw up, but when she did, nothing came out - not even a taste of bile. And still she was expected to eat richly the meal after that. And the meal after that. And the meal after that.
Then there was the casual dialogue. Azula asked her - not unkindly - why she walked around barefoot. Toph had to bite her tongue to avoid battering Azula with obscenities. Angry or not, she was in enemy territory, and even the most stubborn of earthbenders had to pick which mountains to move. She never did manage to move the Earth Rumble mountains enough to displace the audience seats, although there was a lot of headscratching when people became alarmed at the tremors and the top row of the arena seemed a little too narrow for sitting on. So she mildly explained that it was her way of "seeing" things. Azula nodded slowly.
"So why don't we put shoes on you, here? It will be good practice when you meet real civilized people -" Toph did not blink at the dig, although she slammed her tongue into the roof of her mouth. "- and need to make good impressions."
"I'm sorry. I still need it to see."
"But the ship is made of metal, rockbrain." Though the words were scathing, Azula's tone was mild as though scolding a small child. Toph couldn't hold in her scowl. There was at most a two-year difference between them - not even. Azula had no right to adopt that tone with her.
But Azula kept right on. "You're an earthbender. No one can bend metal, not even the greatest earthbenders - certainly not a self-proclaimed upstart like you, no matter how prodigious at your art you think you are. Therefore, your senses will be too dulled for your feet to be of any use. Really, now. There is no harm in covering up your feet. Although a washing beforehand - " Toph could only assume Azula had wrinkled her nose; after all, it wasn't like she could prove it without touching her face. "- would certainly not go amiss."
"I prefer my feet as they are, thank you very much. Shoes are very uncomfortable for me. And I can still sense things through the floors." Too late, Toph realized she made a slip. But she was too afraid, too mindful and cautious to even bat an eye in acknowledgement.
"Is that so?" Even blindness didn't veil Azula's sharklike smile. "Well then. You must realize that things may be different from your misguided, if well-meaning and doting, home, and the illustrious Fire Nation. I will say to you that typically, peering into other's business is considered very rude. And, unfortunately, it seems that your ability to sense vibrations may infringe on such concerns. I'm afraid I must insist that you have shoes. Fear not, however. I have brought along very fine shoes fit for a lady, more oriented to casual attire than anything else, but shoes nonetheless that I brought on a mere whim of mine." Damn. She was a good liar. Toph barely even picked up on the slight accelerando of Azula's heartbeat as she said those lines. Clearly, they were bought from someplace specifically for this purpose.
Toph realized that whatever she expected from her enemies, Azula defied all reason and logic. She couldn't even shift in her chair to make herself more comfortable, and, completely flummoxed, she struggled to find reasons to escape this subtle torment that Azula innocently devised for her.
"I don't like it," she stammered.
"Tut, tut! You are learning to be a lady, not to retain your entitlement as a baby girl! You must learn to accept what you find distasteful -" Toph found Azula distasteful. Beyond a doubt, the converse held true, only Azula was subversive about it until it was too late for Toph to escape. "and bear it with the appropriate grace. Now, the shoes?"
It was the first time that Toph actually shook in fear.
"What's the point of even being a lady? Don't your people have a thing against the Earth Kingdom? Aren't we enemies in a war? Why try bringing me up as a lady when I have shown clear desire to not be constrained in such a manner?" Toph attempted to speak more formally, in an attempt to try to reason with Azula.
Azula did not pay attention. "Hmm? What was that? Enemies? You see, you are young, and since you were not brought up in a military state, you are not guilty of the crimes your soldiers and your nation have committed. It will work wonderfully. Think about it. I can personally vouch for your soundness, and you can assimilate into a real culture that would gladly welcome someone of your status! Of course, that condition also hinges upon your being proper. So I must insist that, to please the people, you must act like a lady, and accept the shoes gratefully as a token of benevolence." Azula still adopted the same, irritating, patronizing tone. Toph wanted her to shut up. To go away. Do anything else except badger her. She wished she wasn't treated so well, that she could experience unjaded misery, that the warm blanket not cover Toph on a bed of ice, that she would just well be left alone. But she was trapped, in a prison like the one her parents made for her, with the only difference being that it was an enemy performing the atrocious act, day in and day out.
It was actually a better position than before. If anything, it felt worse.
"And what if I don't care about other people?"
Azula slapped her.
Stunned, she could only raise one trembling hand to her cheek, where the pain began to bloom. It was the first time she had ever been slapped. Even her parents only went so far as to reproach her. Her cheek stung. She could still feel the imprint of Azula's palm on her face, and she realized, as a blind person, that she had no idea if such a thing was permanent and if she'd walk around with a bloodied handprint on her cheek for the rest of her days. Even blind, she was conscious about her looks, and the thought of her face - the only one she had - being permanently marred finally broke her.
She could not stop the tears from welling in her eyes, and then from falling down in fat droplets. One drop landed on her hand, and the wetness trickled down her wrist to her elbow. Even the uncomfortable shock of liquid wasn't enough to move her to action. She was too shocked to even hide them, to cover her shame. She wasn't supposed to be like this, she was strong, she was resilient, she was the greatest earthbender in the world -
And the tears kept falling as Azula talked on as though she had never even touched Toph, continuing in the mildly comforting voice that never comforted. "Well then, that is simply unfortunate. Perhaps if I put it to you this way?" Too absorbed in her own woes, Toph shrieked in terror when Azula's outstretched hand - still close to her ravaged cheek - exploded in flame. Too small to lick her, but it was the heat, more than anything, that made her finally collapse into heaving sobs.
This wasn't what she dreamed of when she agreed to take on the Avatar as a student.
"Guards!" Toph felt the thumps before hearing the tromps. "The shoes."
Slowly, deliberately, painfully, Azula slipped the shoes onto Toph. They were ones that only covered the bottoms and the toes, and left the tops of the feet open. Toph knew Azula designed them this way as an insult - leave the only useless part of the foot as the only one left in the open. She tried her best to scramble from Azula and wherever the shoes were, but upon Azula's order, the guards closed in, preventing any escape. And it was only so far that Toph could retreat to in her cell. When she still struggled against Azula's efforts, going so far as to yowl when Azula almost managed to slip the back of the shoe over her heels, Azula simply stopped. Toph blinked uncomprehendingly for several moments before she sensed Azula approaching her face. Flame burst in front of Toph's unseeing eyes. She cried out in rage and despair, but was force to give up and limply offer her feet to the guards who held her shoes, while Azula's flames dried Toph's tears and new ones still kept falling down.
In what only took moments but felt like years, Toph was truly imprisoned, further than she could have possible imagined.
"There we go. See, that wasn't so hard. Such a good girl." Toph didn't even bother cringing at the euphemism, or even when Azula lovingly stroked her hair. "Perhaps we'll make a lady of you yet." finally, the worrying tone became a purr as Azula exclaimed over her prize. "That will be it for today. Until next time." The only indication of Azula's true intentions was the soft cackle she aired as she closed the cell door behind her.
Toph balled her fists in helpless rage, then dissolved into another fit of weeping. She curled up on her bed, a soft, comfortable, beautiful thing, not caring that her tears ruined the fabric.
Eventually, she stopped crying, and pushed with all her might to sit at the edge of her bed. Fear had morphed into dark anger, and with the trauma passed, Toph now let her body be taken over by the anger. There was still one hope left, however slim, for revenge against the mad witch.
She cast an ear out for any disturbance. Satisfied with the silence, she swiftly kicked off her shoes. Even if she was expected to wear them from now on, no one could command her if they didn't see her.
Pulling out the rock from her sleeve in one smooth motion, she wrote to Aang. "Are you awake?"
A pause. Toph wondered if she had stayed awake past Aang's bed time. Then, to her elation, his own rock moved, albeit a bit slowly. "Yes?"
Toph did not hesitate in penning out her next question. "Wanna learn some earthbending?"
If she couldn't strike at Azula, she might as well train someone else to do the favor for her.
The first time Aang realized just how woefully ill-prepared he was for facing the Firelord was when Azula used him for target practice.
He was in the middle of a lesson with Toph when he heard the steps. Hastily stuffing the rock in his robe - he and Toph had practiced their maneuvers many times over for the other to recognize imminent danger - he immediately dropped to the floor and assumed a meditative pose, front facing the cell door. It was the only way he was allowed to face whenever he performed any activities that were not prohibited by Azula. She claimed it was to be able to gauge intentions better. Aang personally thought it was so they were forced to look up to Azula whenever she "visited."
But with meditation, he could at least close his eyes and pretend to be focused elsewhere. The temptation to visit the Spirit World - and maybe find some spirits like Hei Bai - gnawed at his helplessness, but from what Sokka and Zuko had described him, he looked like he accessed the Avatar State at those times. Besides, where Zuko's passion had likely led him to learn about what the Avatar could do, Azula's prodigal mind would have concluded such years before. Better to hide and pretend so no outward signs of revolting could be shown.
Of course Azula never played to his games.
They didn't even bother paying him the respect of waiting. Two guards grabbed his arms and twisted him to his feet, then roughly wrenched him forward. Stunned by the turn of events, his eyes fluttered open to find Azula almost nose-to-nose with him.
He kept his mouth shut. He knew better.
"Avatar," Azula mocked. The guard to his right snickered. Both of them had hauled Aang like he was a feather. Although, given what he saw of Fire Nation uniform, their shoulderplates alone were likely half his weight. "Can't even hold his own to two Fire Nation guards." Aang did not react. He knew better. Besides, he knew that the parts Azula said did not make one whole; he could see the truth that he was simply being abused by his captors.
He could also see the truth that Azula was brewing something bad.
"You know, I have been thinking... you must be painfully cramped in your little cell, like a tiny bird fluttering about in a flimsy cage that it can't break. Although, the bird should be thankful that they are fed seeds, and given water, and not free to fly about into the mouth of a waiting cat." She tittered, and Aang glowered at her. He just wanted the visit to be over with. "And you've stopped your singing, too. You can talk, you know. At least, I hope you still have the capability to. I myself have never been so careless as to be caught so spectacularly, so I must apologize for not speaking from experience."
"What do you want, Azula?" Aang said. Stiff though his face was, it proved too much energy to coat his trembling, whining voice with some bravado.
Azula noticed this and smirked. "Well, well, well. A little wobbly, but I do believe that is a warble from the hatchling!" Only then did Aang catch a whiff of Azula's scent - an aftertaste of acrid smoke and perpetual war thinly disguised by Fire Nation spice. If anything, it made the smell more repugnant than the Omashu sewers, and Aang suddenly felt glad that he was receiving little to eat. And that even if, without the focus on earthbending to support his legs he could not stand on his own, he was at least held up firmly by the unflinching hands of the guards - although Aang noticed that his left arm was being considerably less crushed than his right.
"And that is the only one? Hmm... how could that be? Even when prompted to sing, only a note is played from the creature's beak! As it seems, this visit is not one of what I want... so much as it is, what do you want? After all, I do have a sense of justice as the ensign of the Fire Nation - " A poor, dastardly, twisted one it is, Aang thought bitterly. "And I do think that people should be allowed whatever they please, so long as they fulfil their duties and don't go out of their place. What's that, Avatar? You disagree with my convictions?" Aang immediately dropped his growing scowl in horror, and Azula took a step back and laughed, a calm and controlled laugh that stabbed Aang like icicles. "Oh my. Being cooped up has done much to ruin you. But it has come to my attention that Air Nomads like you are free and flexible, and thus should be accommodating of different but equal - or rather, I should say superior - opinions?" Aang found his eyes annoyingly dry, but the blink that followed seemed to give Azula the idea that she had scored a point against the Avatar. "Hmm. Well, this is something that should be discussed - well. It likely won't be discussed, since I am fairly sure that my dearest father the Great Firelord Ozai would see to it that you were promptly dispatched, and based on my tendencies, I do not deem my preferences to constitute talking to a lowly prisoner on a subject concerning their lowly people. Their lowly, nonexistent people, I should say."
Aang winced.
"But I speak too much and do too little for you, I'm afraid. Now, back to what you want." Aang realized with horror that Azula remembered the base of her colloquy and spoke spontaneously with such a cunning and confidence that Aang would never be able to even meticulously premeditate. "Hmph. I wonder why people always have trouble retracing the trains of their windings. It's not that difficult. Especially when it's supposed to concern you, and what you want. Or maybe I should say need. As Avatar, you are awfully quiet. I'll pry your stubborn beak yet. But first, to what a bird needs. Do you have food? Yes. Do you have drink? Yes. Do you have a resting place and time to rest? Certainly - unless you have decided to kill yourself with lack of sleep, which would definitely explain your increased slowness. How about... shelter? Self-explanatory. So then... why does the caged bird not sing?"
Azula pouted and stared at Aang's arrow as if it would provide all the solutions that she still lacked. Aang yelped as his arrow sizzled, then realized that nothing had actually happened and that he was overreacting to Azula. He flushed red as the right guard snickered and the left guard turned to study him under a heavy helmet.
"A screech - not a warble, even. What is the problem? It is not as though there was something we gave in your cage -" Azula widened her eyes playfully, as though she had found a solution that she hadn't already figured out before she went into Aang's room. "I know what we can do! I'm guessing you know, too, and are willing to share it with us?" Azula looked at Aang so benignly that he finally gave in to the pressure and weariness and retaliated against Azula in turn.
"Turned back to the Earth Kingdom and let us free?" Aang asked with equal innocence.
Azula rolled her eyes at him. "Now, now, I only allowed you one something that would let you sing in your cage, not three! And besides, if I did as you said, not only would you be cageless but you would likely find a way to fly and land yourself in this exact same situation again." Aang decided to just sit back and enjoy the misery that would be inflicted on him. "But, on this, I do believe we can compromise. After all, a caged bird does need to stretch its wings every now and then, doesn't it? I suppose that we might make sure your own are still usable." She turned and beckoned, and the guards obediently dragged Aang out of his cell. Aang, seeing an opportunity, craned his neck to try to get a glimpse of his surroundings, but all he succeeded in was leaning into Azula's awaiting blindfold.
It wasn't enough to block out the light, but it was more than enough to prevent outlines of anything from forming. It was the former that taunted him the most, since Azula had perfectly tailored the blindfold - one as white as the blistering reflection of Pole Snow - to leave him hope of sight but leave him completely blind all the same.
Finally, he was forced out, and realized why Azula left the light. He cried out and tried to look away, but Azula calmly, mercilessly tore the blindfold from his eyes, and he was forced to suffer as the blazing sun seared into his eyes and gave him spots that he feared would never leave him.
Cringing, he crumpled into a heap as soon as his arms were released. Immediately, he felt kicks from all directions - some from large feet, others from smaller ones - but no matter the size, they all felt the same: jabs of immense pain that kept him huddled over the ground, unable to speak or shout from the pain and unpredictability of the whole scene.
But as soon as it began, Azula spoke harshly, and the attacks abated. With this, however, came an unstoppable force that pulled him from the ground like a farmer dug up a carrot. Opening his eyes to narrow slits, he could make out a wooden board that was stood upright.
"Lash him to it!" Azula called, and he was roughly shoved against the wood, with thick ropes fastened over his hands. Already, he could feel the chafing of the grains on his back, and he briefly wondered if the splinters could pierce through clothes. Judging by the pins on his back, they most certainly could. Out of habit, he pulled on them to test their strength, and was disappointed to see that they were impossible to break - although he did notice that the loops were large enough for his hands to slip through.
But what would be the point? Even if he were able to break himself through without any person noticing, what would happen afterwards? There was nowhere to go, especially without his gliderstaff or any other device to fly. His only viable option was to attempt to take down the entire ship's crew while contending with Azula. Not only was that not viable, but it was utter suicide, even if he wasn't wobbly in the knees or woozy in the eyes. And then there was Toph. He couldn't just leave someone who was still a child. He was a child, which only reinforced the point. He had undergone miseries no child should ever be subjected to, and fear of what Azula would do to Toph if he miraculously chose an option to escape and managed to pull it off played perfectly into Aang's continued captivity. So he was stuck, able to escape his corded confines but not escape his plight. Aang could see that this was yet another of Azula's subtle messages to Aang. He could do it, yes. But he would not let the loss of Toph escape his conscience. So he could not do it.
He was far beyond growling. It would do nothing but waste energy he did not have. The days on end of relentless training and poor treatment - both from Azula and himself - finally sank into his soul. He found himself praying that the ropes were more secure than he could see, that his emptiness was deceiving his eyes - while the fire burned in his lifeless limbs, limbs trapped in nooses and suspended like hapless fish dangling on hooks. He wondered that he had not fallen, so flimsy the ropes had seen, but in the moment, arms feeling almost torn apart being forced aloft, he would have preferred a bloodied mouth to a dismembered body - even if the latter was more effort to tend to.
Aang wondered how Azula knew these things, then remembered that not every nation had the same pacifistic views as the Air Nomads.
No wonder Zuko had become so sour... it's a wonder he has any good character left in him.
But it was an unfair generalization against the Fire Nation, a racist stereotype that was, at the very least, untrue as far as a century ago. Aang had had good friends in the Fire Nation - great friends and great people - and he could not fathom how deeply the Fire Nation had renounced its values in the pursuit of conquest.
Aang had thought that everyone and everything was redeemable, even when carrying out heinous acts such as genocide. He had thought that he should at least not be hasty when making judgments of others, although he could not condone an unnecessary loss of life - let alone the loss of thousands.
Although his journey had shown him otherwise, it was only then, under the scorch of the sun, that last vestige of his naïve presumptions crackled and crumbled.
He at least had the temerity to look at Azula. And used the last scraps of his courage to withstand the shadowed smirk even Azula couldn't hide under the light.
"So. You are finally out in the light. Are you not pleased? At the very least, I would have expected a smile. Or even a sigh of relief. It is a pity, really, when an airbender can't appreciate a breath of the freedom they claim to crave."
Freedom isn't being chained. Let me go! Aang's mouth formed the words, but all that accompanied his moving lips was a pathetic croak that made those nearest to Aang laugh, and those farthest from Aang only gaze at their companions with confusion.
Azula, however, effortlessly read Aang's mouth. "Interesting. Still no singing, but the beak moves. Very well. We must take whatever small victories where we can. Hong."
A stocky soldier who nevertheless was equal in Azula's height rushed to Azula and bowed deeply to her. "Yes, m'Lady." Though his voice was steady, he was rank with fear and awe, even so far as to maintain his bow even when his legs and chest started to shiver.
"Stand up, idiot. There is a reason you are still a lowly guardsman after all this time, and it is likely the exact same reason with which you seem to deny my highly regarded suggestion to kowtow to a royal member and your commander instead of simply bowing. After all, unlike a military commander, I as Crown Princess have the right to whether you ever stand again."
The soldier blanched. "Yes, Princess. I mean, of course, m'Lady. I apologize -"
"Just go and fetch some water!" Azula snapped, the first time Aang had ever seen her break her character. The significance of her sudden, crazed sharpness and her pivot in temper was not lost on Aang, and without this, the half-clench of Azula's twitch in her hands would have gone wholly unnoticed.
But it was noticed. And it had happened. Given more time, Aang would be able to examine this more, if the soldier did not come rushing back loudly sloshing a huge pail of water.
"That had better -"
"It is freshwater ma'am," the soldier replied hastily.
Azula blinked, then nodded slowly. "I see. Perhaps you are not as lost a cause as I initially thought." The soldier brightened, but it was only for a moment before Azula flicked a marble of fire at the soldier's head, and he yelped, stumbled slightly, and splashed a little more water onto the ship deck.
"Idiot. That water is too valuable to be spilled. I suppose we will just have to have an early cleaning day." The entire crew groaned. "It is not my fault that one of your comrades is so sloppy. See to it that such an incident does not occur in the future. Also, to the original transgression, I will not be interrupted again, or I will cut everyone's rations in half and make you finish it at the head of the mess table. Surely, even if your spark of insight was momentary, you can realize the implications of such a punishment."
Even from afar, Aang's ears picked up the soldiers gulp as his head continued bobbing long after the fact. "Yes, m'Lady." If Aang had any more energy, he would have winced at the spiteful glares the soldier was receiving from every side. Clearly, Azula had forged an environment from enmity, distrust, envy, and competition, and though it was horrible and unethical and wrong, it worked immaculately. So this is how Azula is so effective, Aang mused. Fear. She makes people afraid of her, and she manipulates it into coercing them into acting exactly how she wants them to. Well, I refuse...
He could not, though. He had already fell victim to Azula's conniving, and now, when he finally knew, it was too late for him to do anything about it, only prepare himself for more misery.
He forgot he couldn't prepare.
"You seem to have troubles with your throat. Perhaps a little water will refresh you?" Azula mocked in a sing-song tone. Aang pursed his lips and when the soldier hastily walked to him, he simply turned his head slightly to the side to refuse the water.
"What is it? Hong, is he refusing the treat we are giving him? Does he not appreciate us offering him more rations than we've normally fed him?" The soldier hastily asserted assent. "Well then. We can do this the easy way, or the hard way. You take your pick, Avatar."
Aang stared straight into Azula's piercing yellow eyes and tried his best to stare her down.
"Alright, then. I suppose we have no choice." Aang braced himself for the worst and took a deep breath to hold. If he was going to be forced, he might as well make a fight for it. "Easy way it is then."
Aang broke the stare in shock. Easy way?
"Hong?"
Azula's smirk was the last thing Aang saw before Hong dumped the contents of the bucket onto Aang's head.
Spluttering, he heard through the roar of blood in his ears the roar laughter at his humiliation. Even Azula ceased to conceal her smirk, having it out on full display to encourage the ridicule of Aang. Hong simply stood there, bucket loosely dangled by the handle.
"Well done, Hong. I do believe that we might have convinced the bird to open its beak a little bit. It might deny the hand that feeds it, but not the feed itself." Aang, in his splutter, had opened his mouth for spare droplets to fall in, somewhat moistening his tongue and stumbling right into Azula's trap. Now Azula could claim that Aang had partook of more water than he was originally offered, and there was no telling how she would twist this to her sinister favor.
"So, dear Avatar, what have I done for you? Let us take a moment to recall, for it seems my memory is temporarily slipping." The smug squint she narrowed at him and the savage glints of her manicured nails spoke more truth than her silver tongue. To add insult to the injury, Azula pantomimed a sudden expression of comprehension and delighted surprise that she clearly had never worn in her life - twice then was it that she showed that she was not perfectly infallible, though her imitation of raised eyebrows and the slightly parted lips of shock were so finely crafted that, had Aang not known Azula's nature, he would have taken as a genuine reflection of her emotion, let alone the capability to feel emotion. Especially in that moment, the façade of Azula's expressions briefly flickered to show the utter coldness with which she defied the redeeming aspects of warming flame. "Oh! That is right! I have let you spread your wings, taste the open air, and also nourished you with water! Clearly, I have gone far beyond my duties to try to revive your pretty little voice? But hm? What is this?" Azula strutted to Aang, almost tenderly cupping his chin. A spark snapped at the touch, and Aang flinched at the sudden sensation, even more than the filed nails that dug into his skin. Where did the static come from? "It seems you still do not sing. I - I find it rather unfortunate." She glanced dejectedly to the side, but not so far enough for the eager shine in her eyes to be obscured from Aang's own stare. "I have done so much, and yet... none of it has worked."
Just get to your point Azula, and be done with it, Aang thought irritably. You have done it. You won. You don't need to play this game anymore. I saw that resistance was useless a long time ago. Please. My stomach is empty. I can barely lift my head up to face you. Just stop flitting around the corners and just let me face your machinations head on. I'm tired of your stupid games.
Suddenly her eyes shot up again, and Aang resigned himself to the fact that Azula was not done with her play, and that she was still in the midst of enjoying a game that she knew she already beat her opponent at. An owl-cat playing with a mouse, Aang suddenly thought.
"I know! This is perfect for us!" Aang's eyes, even accustomed to the sun, were half-closed in obsequious humor as he tiredly awaited Azula's next device. Azula, however, patiently played out her game, stepping back and examining Aang and his position as though calculating her next move. "This is so brilliant, I can't believe I didn't think of it before!" Azula voice had shifted from patronization to girlish idiocy, and Aang found himself unconsciously gritting his teeth. He instantly relaxed his jaw, both to deny Azula the thrill of another victory and also to stop expending his dwindling supply of energy. "It will be... like killing two birds with one stone! I suppose that would be what you airbenders say, is it not?"
Funny you thought that - unlike you, airbenders are peaceful and tend to avoid conflict whenever possible, Aang thought viciously. Then again, I wouldn't expect someone like you to possess the brains or the self-control to attain that level of knowledge of the airbenders.
Even camouflaged in his thoughts, he was soundly conquered by Azula. "Oh wait. Never mind. That was one of our own sayings - after we found out how easy it was to take down your nation and started experimenting with ways to entertain ourselves in the ridding of inferiority from this world."
Aang flushed as the soldiers laughed. But he couldn't retaliate. He knew that Azula was capable of more than he could imagine; he did not need to make things worse. And he was too tired to even blow Azula's hair apart. It would have been a nice defiant statement against her, but it would do nothing in the end but make her personally antagonized against Aang. And of course, there was Toph.
He did nothing.
"And you don't open your mouth. Why am I not surprised?" Azula rolled her eyes and curled her lip in slight, if pronounced, distaste. "But I have devised a way to kill more than two birds with one stone." She suddenly moved, faster than lightning, and Aang's vision was engulfed by flame.
At first, he almost cried out in shock, but then his voice died on his lips as the flames rolled over his shoulders and out behind him, somehow leaving the wood untouched. So much control... and her fire... it's... blue?
Zuko might have told him things about his sister, but of what Aang did not remember. He especially did not remember him saying that Azula could bend blue fire. It wasn't something novel to him, but... according to the Air Nomads, it was rarer than two blue moons in a lunar year, and only happened to the most exceptional firebenders who had such a fine self-control that they could leave their bending untainted by emotion. This emotion allowed for the purest, hottest fire to be bent, which glowed a vivid blue. Aang had met a descendent of the Fire Sages of old who had achieved such mastery over the element, forty years after having achieved the title of master in his bending discipline. He was the only one Aang had met who could even touch the power, and he had used it sparingly and defaulted to normal flames most of the time. And Azula wielded it effortlessly.
Wonderful.
As quickly as it had ignited, the flames were swept away by the sudden wind that rushed to suppress the heat. Aang resumed his former demeanor while Azula studied her handiwork and nodded. "Perhaps a day of practice would not hurt..." Aang noticed that his clothes were dry. "At least I can ensure that you will survive my little practice session."
Practice session? Aang would have hoped that the flames themselves were the practice session.
"Clear the deck. Time to see if I can practice without the eyes of Lo and Li to guide me."
Soon it was only Aang and the entourage which Azula trusted to escort them from Aang's prison. He wondered how much time had passed. But how could he know? For all the thought in the world he would have sworn that being outside had cost him several years of his life, when he doubted that anything above an hour had floated lethargically by. He awaited the training with trepidation, wanting it to be over with, but also not wanting it to start.
And then Azula struck.
Aang could tell she started to bend seriously when she widened her stance and bent her legs. Her arms traveled in alternating arcs, flowing seamlessly in counteracting circles that begin to spark and glow with an eerie blue. Unlike the vivid blue that commanded Azula's flame, this blue was much lighter, akin to the color of a sky considerably darkened, almost like -
And then it hit him as she brought the trembling tendril to her chest and shot a lightning bolt at him.
He screamed. He couldn't help it. Of all the things in the world... lightning? It skewed past him, thundering past his ears with a screech that would haunt him for the days to come. The tendril continued far beyond Aang's vision, flying off the ship and above the water into what distance Aang could make from his peripheral. Clearly smaller and softer than what nature would have brewed, the lightning nevertheless left an unpleasant ringing in his ears and an acrid smell he would have been revolted by if he wasn't so busy crying out in fear. Azula smiled triumphantly.
"And the bird sings! Perhaps we should try again!"
And once more the air was filled with an ionizing jolt, this time barely glazing over his torso. Aang shouted, his eyes wide, fatigue long forgotten. This was not torture. This was an execution. One that Azula was clearly enjoying, and one she clearly desired to draw out as long as possible before Aang succumbed to the inevitable.
"I must stop to comment that although I have mastered the technique of lightning generation, I am still working on my aim. Hence, the objective of this training is to try to strike as close to you as possible without actually striking you. I have high confidence in my ability to avoid you. But I believe I must ask you for forgiveness if I happen to slip -" Azula pantomimed a slip, a spark flying from her finger not unlike the one that had shocked Aang before. "and accidentally make contact with you. I suppose the experience likely wouldn't be one you would like to have, as the electrifying sensation is caused by a stream of power so concentrated that it is more often than not fatal on the spot." Aang's eyes widened, but Azula wasn't done yet. "Hong? The blindfold again."
Aang was too stunned to stop the blindfold from being draped over his crown.
And then the real horror began.
Strike after crackling strike rained down on Aang, and all the warning he was spared was the sudden blast of light that penetrated his blindfold clearer than the daylight whenever Azula found the fancy to begin another bolt. At first happening in droves, the salvo eventually became more and more sporadic, until Aang finally gave up on trying to predict the harbingers of his death and merely whimpered whenever his vision was lit up, a sharp tingle was felt on a random side and place on his body, and the deafening thunder saved him the misery of hearing his own resolve crumbling to nothingness. He could not even see Azula making the motions this time, and for once, he truly felt helpless in the face of something mortal and within his control. Whenever he thought the ordeal was done, another screaming round taught him otherwise, and he trembling and shivered and mewled until finally, though the ringing masked any of the words Azula must have said, he was loosed from his bonds and lowered to the ground.
He did not bother moving when Azula stepped up to his face. "Well, that was a very lovely session. I enjoyed the music you finally decided to sing for us. Perhaps we shall do this another time - especially if you seem a little deprived of vitality."
And with that, he was taken back to his cell - which seemed even darker than before, and shattered with the fractals of lightning still scarring his vision - and he was left alone, in the silence.
"Do not worry, Avatar. You can expect your brat to be treated just as well, if not better, than you are!"
He did not move for a long time.
He was tempted to just give up, to bend the air from his lungs and die a death that was thousands of times better than the ship he was trapped on. He had obligations, and Toph, and so many other things, but it would have been so much easier, to just take one last breath and shut his eyes from his broken vision and just let the air seep out from his chest and... give up.
There wasn't anything worth fighting for. Not worth the pain. Not worth the suffering. Not worth the struggle.
He finally moved, and something slipped from his neck. Staring at it uncomprehendingly, he admired the beauty of the stone. It was by far a more attractive thing than the rock he used to train with Toph, and even under the utter darkness of the room, it was an unmistakable blue. A far darker, richer, more beautiful blue than the lightning Azula shot at him, more beautiful than even the blue of the flames and impossible more so than the azure skies that he had once roamed and laughed in and lived in.
He loved the blue. It was beautiful like the sea.
Beautiful like the girl who had given it to him, beautiful as the eyes that beheld the same blessed color as the stone of the necklace Katara had given him.
Desperately he clutched at it, even as everything around him fell apart, as it crumbled and burned and fell to ashes and the snow of darkness blanketed and suffocated him. If nothing else, he had Her.
Letting out a shaky sigh, he closed his eyes around the seeping tears and envisioned her face, the one thing that kept him alive and fighting in his darkest moment.
His eyes shot open.
He was still on the floor, unmoved since Azula's training. He wondered at what could have possibly disturbed him, then dismissed whatever it was as a side-effect of his treatment. There was only so much he could rely on. They only slipped in a bowl through his door half-filled with foodstuffs. At least she hadn't forced him to eat meat - all the items were definitely vegetables, although their consistency was more akin to mush and other undesirable things.
And it was not filling whatsoever. So he was still hungry, but couldn't ask for more. There wasn't even someone stationed outside his cell door to receive any of his requests. Not that he would have said anything to them.
He was about to drift off when he heard a sound. It was boots clomping on the deck. It was clear that it was only one person's, but Aang couldn't think of anyone who would visit him save Azula - and she wore shoes. This brought him to alert. He would not put it past her to disguise her new visit. Hurriedly, achingly, he pushed himself off the floor, and kneeled down facing the door. He did not want to be seen meditating again - although he might be forced to kowtow if he was on his knees. He found that he didn't much care about this latter fact.
The steps grew louder.
He relaxed himself to prepare as best he could for what was to come, and he twisted his neck to rid himself of the kinks that had likely built up from his cramped position on the floor.
A glint caught his eye.
The necklace.
Hurriedly, he grabbed at it and tucked it underneath his robes, thankful that at least he still possessed his one last connection to Katara and the outside world, and steeled himself with the thought of her as a key was inserted into the cell door, jiggled, twisted, and clicked. The door creaked open, and Aang set his face. He would not give the satisfaction of breaking to Azula, and he especially did not want her seeing the necklace. It was his and Katara's.
One of the guards who escorted him stepped in. Aang strained his eyes to spot out Azula before she saw him.
The guard closed the door behind him.
Aang blinked in confusion. Was this guard here to beat him? He did not deem it impossible. He could not tell which guard it was, but perhaps it was Hong here to take revenge on the person the Azula had scapegoated. After all, Hong had suffered under his actions ordered by Azula against the Avatar, and with no one else to transfer the anger to, he had come to take it out on Aang. And of course, this was no Azula. There would be no intricate tricks, no sudden surprises when it came to a simple soldier like this. There would only be bruises and blood, which came closer and closer with the approaching of the guard - who was, Aang noted with regret - fully armored and concealed.
The guard reached him. He only stared up at the guard, betraying no emotion or thought. He did not challenge. He only stared. Not that there was much to stare at, in the darkness anyways. But the darkness could shift, and it was through this that he saw the guard's helmet enlarge as its owner leaned over Aang.
Bending, no doubt, to kick me to my feet.
The guard reached out a hand, and Aang braced himself for the blows. But the guard merely tapped his shoulder.
Aang blinked.
"Psst!" the guard hissed. He brought up his other hand and flicked a tentative flame to life. Weak though it was, Aang could clearly see the man's - no, boy's: the soldier couldn't have been older than Zuko - features. It was not Hong. It was the other soldier, the one who had not reacted as outwardly to Aang's humiliations, and had stayed mostly quiet throughout all of Aang's ordeals. Irritation flared. He wanted to ask the soldier what he was doing here all alone, but realized that without Azula, this was likely a forbidden visit?
Then why come?
The smell wafted to his nose, and Aang couldn't help but salivate. There was something warm and steaming.
The guard took off his helmet and chestplate, and Aang could now see that the soldier was not even older than Azula herself. It appeared as though the boy did not even need a razor, so youthful the face looked. Aang felt a pang of recognition at the boy's face, but couldn't recognize where he could possibly have seen the face. Besides, it was a sensation that oddly felt of trust, which Aang could not imagine from the time period. Which Fire Nation soldier chasing him ever gave him a positive feeling towards their intentions?
But the soldier was young, with slightly curled hair and a wild look about the face that Aang knew belonged to one with a childhood as wild and free as his - something he liked immensely. Clearly, though, duty got in the way, and Aang deduced that either the father was incapacitated, there was a debt to pay, or the father was simply unqualified to be in the military, so it was the son that stepped up to fulfil his duties. Aang wondered, if there wasn't a war, if things might have turned out differently for them.
You would be a wizened old Bumi talking to the whippersnapper.
Stunned by his random thought, he almost missed the guard lifting a half-filled bowl of white rice tucked in his armor and offering it to Aang.
"I noticed you seemed a little malnourished. I might be Fire Nation, but I don't approve of treating prisoners inhumanely. And then what she did to you on the deck..." the boy shuddered, and Aang realized that he was not the only one who was heavily impacted by Azula's actions. Clearly, the boy's sense of honor and nationality and pride had been marred, if not disillusioned, but the actions of one who was supposed to dictate his entire life even in times of peace. Aang wondered and felt a sliver of hope peeking out from his chest and sniffing curiously. Perhaps, if not an ally, he had found a person sympathetic to his predicament.
Any other words the boy might have said were drowned out by Aang snatching the bowl from outstretched hands and wolfing and slurping with an energy Aang had not had in weeks.
The boy grimaced. "Yeah. Was afraid of that. Anyways, I really... I... I'm sorry, okay? I didn't know things were this bad till I saw you with my own eyes and saw what Azula did to you. These things... they're just more believable when the bad people do them behind closed curtains. Or blind prisons." The boy awkwardly cleared his throat. "I might not have much more in my name, especially betraying the Fire Nation in this way, no matter how morally right this is - but I can swear on my moral compass and what honor I have that I will be checking on you to make sure everything is alright and that you can at least bear a portion of your stay on this ship. Enemies does not mean animals."
"Your nation would think otherwise," Aang pointed out, realizing it was the first time he spoke. Clearly, the other boy didn't expect him to speak at all, as the fire snuffed out and had to be restarted.
Under the new flame - noticeably stronger than before - the boy nodded and shrugged. "I didn't make those presumptions. Those came long before my time. And I don't believe them. Neither did my parents. They taught me right. At least, right enough to treat people like people and not as target dummies."
"I think targets are meant to be hit though," Aang offered weakly.
The boy gaped at him with eyes wider than the bowl offered to Aang, then burst into suppressed laughter. "Stop, man. It's really not funny. It isn't. And also, it's not good to make me laugh. I'm not even supposed to be here. I'm supposed to be at the head of the ship watching out for approaching enemies. I'm taking a risk being here."
"I figured." Aang stared intensely into the boy's eyes. "Thank you. For the food. And the company."
The boy looked uncomfortable. "Yeah. I snuck as much as I could to you. Wore my armor all day so you could have it. A lot of it's my own ration too, 'cept they overfeed us instead of... the other way around. The way they treat you."
The boy picked at his nails as Aang eyed the bowl that saved him. "Well," the boy said suddenly. "I'd better leave before Hong wrings my butt. He's not too happy that I didn't defend him for the hordes as his buddy. Although to be honest, I don't think he much deserves it in the first place," he muttered under his breath. Collecting the bowl, he replaced all his wares, and began to head towards the door.
"Wait," Aang called out after him. The boy paused at the door. "There's... there's another person on the ship. A girl my age. Her name's Toph." the boy nodded slowly. "Could you... I can't ever get to see her. Can you make sure she's alright? Please. I know it's asking so much from you, but..."
The boy brought both hands together and bowed to Aang. "Yes, I will. I heard rumors, but nothing tangible till now. You have my word that she will be seen to."
Aang nodded, relieved. It wasn't much, but it was something. "Thank you." The boy opened the cell door. Aang suddenly realized that he didn't even know who his newfound friend was. "What's your name?" he called after the boy, hoping that even in Aang's weakened state, the other boy had heard.
The boy froze in the middle of the doorway, hesitating. Aang thought that perhaps it wasn't a good idea to ask for his name after all. He could let the name slip, or maybe the boy didn't trust him as a stranger and the Avatar. Maybe worse would face the boy if he offered his name. Aang wondered if he should have even asked the question.
"Kuzon," the boy finally replied. And he closed the door behind him.
I know this may sound a little bossy and whiny, but I would especially love feedback for this chapter. Thoughts on Azula? Anything too cliched or cringe? I really tried hard to write an Azula I was proud about.
