Insane
It was what they called her.
Irrational
It was what her reign would be remembered as.
A monster
It was what her own mother had always considered her.
She had another word for it.
Enlightened
They feared her because she knew more then they did. They thought she was crazy because they could not see the things she did. They locked her in a windowless room, strapped her in a straightjacket, and forced her through irksome programs. All in the attempt to 'rehabilitate' her.
The healers at Fire Nation Asylum for the Unbalanced had been given orders by the Fire Lord that she must be treated well, and that she must be kept secure. He told them she was a danger to herself and to others.
That was not true. It wasn't.
She was not a danger, she was a force. She was vigor, she was power, she was genius.
Those who feared her, those who said she was out of her mind, they were wrong. Her mind had never been clearer in her life. She knew things, she saw things, that they did not. She saw her.
Her mother. She came to her, told her things, said things. Sometimes, when Azula had done well that day in her rehabilitation programs, her mother would be pleased. Sometimes they would just sit together in a comfortable silence. But most of the time, she would scold her.
Her mother nagged death as she always had in life. She was too cruel, she was too rash, she needed to think more about others.
Azula thought the truly cruel ones were the ones working in this hell, who thought they knew the best, who thought they could 'help' her. Or the ones on the outside, who regarded her tale with disdain, claimed her right to the throne was illegitimate because she had been deemed 'mad' by those who did not know better.
When she tried to tell her mother's apparition this, she would get upset. Her mother claimed she was wrong, claimed being trapped in this abyss was good for her, that she should learn to embrace the work her mental workers put into her programs.
Then they would get mad. Their words would escalate. Her mother used that annoying tactic she always had; keeping her words level and her tone even to fake 'calmness.' So she could claim Azula was being the unreasonable one. So she could win.
The more Azula got mad, the more her mother told her to calm down, to stop being irrational. Azula would yell, her mother would look on disapprovingly. The only voices the workers heard were Alzula's; because they were not intelligent enough. Because they were not enlightened.
She used to have weapons against her mother. She had a kingdom, she had her servants, she had her influence that she could use. When she first came here, after she had lost everything, she had more practical defenses. Night side tables, mirrors, she used them all. She threw them as hard as she could at her mother, she yelled and screamed and tried to punch the walls, but nothing ever worked.
Eventually they took her things away. Now her room was bare, she was not allowed to have anything that was hard or sharp. They were afraid she would turn her weapons against herself. They did not understand that the only person she truly wanted to hurt they could not see.
They told her the things she saw did not exist. They did.
They told her that her mother was dead. She wasn't.
They told her she was crazy. She didn't believe them.
They told her she needed help. She disagreed.
They were the ones who needed help.
She was not crazy, she was enlightened.
She was not insane, she was powerful.
She was not rash, she was strong.
She was.
My second drabble! This is so weird; writing stories under 1,000 words, but it's a lot of fun and a good time for some creative liberties! :)
Team: Fire Nation
Round: 3
Category: Security
Prompt: 4. (Character) Azula
Word count: 644