The One Who Loves Power
By The Blearing Phoenix
And when she wants to, Azula notes she can twist and turn her little fingers inside Zuko's brain. She can toss Mai over to him with her wan milky skin and her lifeless amber eyes. She can and she will ((Because Azula just knows cruelty)). She can jab into him until he trembles and then she can laugh mirthlessly like she has barbed wire lining the rim of her throat ((Because she just knows how to make them writhe)). Zuko can be her puppet and she can be the puppeteer and steer him towards that twisting maelstrom all sickening with the sleek greenness of victory that's tainted with the red blood of murder. She can and she will.
One pin goes into her straight black hair and her tendrils loop and loop as the steady white hands of her maid moves adroitly, briskly, as if she's done this in her sleep. 'Zuko you can run but you can't hide, you know. No, you never can because I'll. Always. Find. You.' Azula's thoughts are evil splinters of exploitation and duplicity—evil thoughts that Ozai would smile at her for and embrace her in his cold warmth for. At the simple ruminations of 'Father . . . father will want me to take up his throne,' Azula feels elated in her ascension—in the knowledge that she'll be next in line to purify the Fire Nation and conquer the world. Her red robes fold over like overlapping waves and she sees her reflection—her flinty fiery eyes with whorls of passionate red and white all at once satisfying her.
Azula rises, thanks her maid and watches the dainty girl saunter off--back aligned with her body and her limbs moving like fluid liquid—graceful and smooth.
Azula can manipulate Mai and she can manipulate that foolish acrobatic girl—the one she so nonchalantly identifies as 'friend' but she stiffly and staunchly reminds herself that she, Azula has no room for friends. 'Look what happened to Zhao when he became your friend—he died—he failed. Friends will just wheedle their way into your heart and betray you. They're all stupid!' Passing her hand over the red wooden table, pressing her slim fingers into the neat geometric holes, Azula imagines father smiling at her with such lovely heartwarming pride. Father will welcome her and love her with that cold warmth if only . . . if only she can do this one thing and become Fire Lord—if only.
Azula can twist and turn her little fingers inside Zuko's brain. She can make her elder brother writhe and scream with blood bubbling up in his abdomen—making his skin burn fire-hot. She can and she will and as she realizes this—reminds herself of this ability, she smiles with that fire present in her eyes and with that electricity crackling under her fingertips.
a.n. – Azula's cool to write. This drabble takes place a little while after the events of the 'Boiling Rock' episode. Just thought, that I should clarify it for those that might be confused. Oh yeah, and this is going to be drabbles about all of the characters and all of their relationships with one another. I really can't resist writing Aang now, I probably should. Whee.