Of Burnt Badgermoles and Broken Dragons

by sappho-anaktoria

Azula never expected to leave the asylum; she never, ever expected anyone to care enough about her. But that's not the reason–it can't be. No one cares about her, and no one ever will. It makes no difference to her where she rots. [AzulaxToph] Spread the love, people :3

20. Names

"What's your name?"

Azula starts. The little girl is sitting just outside her cell, having wandered in only moments before. Azula has never been asked that question before. Lin has never really asked any questions before now, and Azula wonders why it has changed.

"Why?" The question is honest, no hint of condescension or anger. It is just a simple question.

"Because a pretty lady has to have a pretty name."

Little Lin is looking at her badgermole toy, waddling along the floor.

"I'm Azula..."

Lin looks up, flashing a smile. "See? Pretty name for a pretty lady."