Author's note :
Hi everyone. I would like to thank those who follow my story and I hope you enjoyed it.
In this chapter, we'll see the immediate consequences of Azula's assault on Zuko and learn a little more about Azula's past and her demons.
I cut the chapter into two parts because it seemed a bit too long ! I plan to get back to the main story in the next chapter. That's a lot of flashback, but describing the events that followed the comet and Azula's daily life within the psychiatric institution seemed to me an essential step to encapsulate the characters, make them my own, and explain the events that will follow.
Regarding Azula's troubles, I was inspired, for the doctor's speech, by the Hippocrates's theory of humors, invented in Antiquity and still valid until the 19th century when it still found followers. It struck me as consistent with the state of advancement of technology and scientific knowledge in the Avatar universe, although this theory is of Western origin. But precisely, Doctor Huan Li is supposed to be a somewhat iconoclastic doctor whose hypotheses are at odds with the beliefs and knowledge of his time and his world.
Azula is technically and clinically schizophrenic. Of course, at the time of the story this disease is unknown and has no name. I found it coherent, in view of Azula's family situation, her age (it is often in adolescence that the first symptoms develop) and the traumas she has suffered, to attribute this pathology to her, which manifests very often by auditory and visual hallucinations most of the time but which can also be tactile, olfactory and gustatory, by paranoia and a delirium of persecution, as well as an excessive megalomania. Social isolation is also a symptom and this is what happens to Azula when Zuko comes to see her at the asylum later and takes her for a walk in the park, or when she returns to the palace and refuses to communicate. Zuko ignores it but she is then at another stage of her illness, less spectacular certainly, but which proves that she is not yet cured. It will therefore take a few more flashbacks to understand how things have evolved, allowing Azula to resume an almost normal life, almost four years after her internment.
Here, I thank the people who read me and don't hesitate to comment or to contribute ideas !
Chapter 4 – Into limbo – Part 2
She paid heavily for this mistake.
When Azula regained consciousness, she was in Dr. Huan Li's office, back in her straitjacket. Chen and Xi, the two male nurses she was starting to know all too well, were located on either side of his seat where he was sitting, both hands clasped, fingers crossed in the posture of someone who was about to give you bad news. The world seemed to be rocking around her. The feeling, close to drunkenness, it gave her, and the serious look of the doctor flanked by his two colossi with threatening faces made her want to laugh.
A cold, mirthless laugh… a laugh that threatened to turn into desperate sobs at any moment.
"Princess…" Huan-Li started.
"Hello, doctor. Is it already time for our little session? You see me delighted. I have news for you!"
"I am fully informed of the latest events; don't bother, my dear. Unfortunately, I must confess that I am deeply saddened by the way in which the meeting with your brother went."
"Would he have found reason to complain?" she asked in a tone ostensibly feigning astonishment. "Wasn't he happy to see his little sister? He's always had such a sense of family!"
"The Fire Lord was very affected by this meeting, Princess Azula. I am afraid this unfortunate incident will have serious consequences for you. Obviously, you are not ready for visitors, and it seems we have been too lenient with you."
"I'm trembling at the thought of what you have prepared for me. What will it be this time? Are you going to take my bed again? Deprive me of food?"
"Nothing that could affect your physical health, Princess. The Fire Lord has been very clear on this."
"So, what are you going to do? Take the little dignity I still have left? Oh no, excuse me, that has already happened when you let that dirty pig run his filthy commoner hands all over me the first day!"
With a movement of her chin, she pointed to the nurse on her right, Xi or Chen, who knew?
"Or will you force me to sleep on the floor of my cell like an animal!"
Huan-Li simply ignored her.
"You will be placed in solitary confinement. You leave me with no other choice. You will spend the next few weeks in a cell specially equipped for the most difficult cases. Your meal will be given to you through a trap door. You won't see or talk to anyone. Our sessions are adjourned for the moment. I sincerely regret having to come to this, Your Highness. I thought we had made some progress when you asked me for help in getting rid of your visions, but I was seriously wrong. Your case is more serious than I thought. I hope that your stay in isolation will help you sort through your thoughts and that you will come back to us in a better mood. Xi, Chen, You take her!" he ordered the two medics without giving Azula time to answer.
"No, wait!" Azula tried.
But the two men were already advancing threateningly towards her, their bully faces expressing an unhealthy joy they were struggling to conceal.
But she was determined not to let it happen this time. What did she still have to lose? She took a deep breath of air and prepared to belch out a blast of flame more incandescent than ever, but she hadn't anticipated the fact that behind her, guards had watched every second of the scene. Whoever was closest knelt behind her and, with precision she would have admired under other circumstances, clapped a metal-gloved hand to her mouth. Her eyes widened in surprise, and she had to swallow the flames she was about to belch out. She felt her tongue burn unpleasantly and stifled a painful exclamation.
"Come on Princess, try to be reasonable," said the doctor. You are not making it easy for us."
Azula continued to struggle although the guard put all his energy into keeping her still. She threw her legs in the air, causing arcs of flame to emerge from each of her feet that narrowly missed the two giants still standing in front of her, ready to neutralize her at any moment.
"Don't touch me, you peasant!" she yelled, unable to hide the panic she felt rushing through her like the receding sea just before a tsunami. And before she had time to kick again, the bigger of the two nurses, the one who had forcibly undressed her the first time in the bathroom, threw himself on her.
He landed heavily upon her stomach and cut off her breath instantly. Even the guard behind her seemed surprised by the violence of the assault and he backed up at the last moment, hastily letting go of the princess before the colossus was upon her.
Eyes bulging in terror, Azula wriggled around to free herself, but she was unable to, nor was she able to use her bending now that she was out of air. Flabbergasted, she suddenly felt something cold on her face. She understood confusedly that a guard had placed some sort of mask pierced with multiple holes on her mouth and nose which was made of a light but resistant metal. He lifted her head to tie it behind her skull, which hit the ground hard when he released her.
A muzzle…
"That's enough now."
The doctor's voice, soft but firm, had arisen to her right. Turning her head, she realized he had stood up and he now towered over her to his full height, eyeing her adamantly. The nurse got up painfully and Azula regained some of her mobility. However, she did not attempt anything more.
"I asked your brother about you, your personality, your aspirations, your hobbies, but also your biggest fears. I thus gathered valuable information. It seems that you are quite uncomfortable in confined spaces and in the dark. We thought it might be relevant, to help you heal, to let you face your greatest fears now."
Azula tried to speak but she was unable to. The implication behind these words was far too clear.
"Don't take this as a punishment, Your Highness, but rather see it as a necessary step in your healing process. We will meet again soon. Use this time to reflect on your recent actions."
His voice receded as Chen - or was it Xi? -, who had lifted her and threw her on his shoulders, like a common bag of goods, took her out of the room.
Escorted by his colleague and two guards, he carried her through the halls of the asylum. She had time to see parts of the establishment that she had never seen before, and her attention was for a moment drawn to a large room with light walls that was furnished with multiple tables and armchairs on which people dressed in the same burgundy outfit she wore daily were seated.
Several of them turned their heads curiously when they saw the strange procession. One of them got up from his chair, momentarily abandoning a started game of dice, and began to jump in place pointing at them, uttering inarticulate exclamations before a female nurse, sitting at the table in front of him, called out,
"Li, calm down. Please sit down. Rather, roll the dice."
Annoyed, the so-called Li obeyed and grabbed the dice that he shook for a long time in his hand without releasing Azula from his mad gaze. Then he threw them up and looked up to give her a broad toothless smile that made her shiver with disgust and apprehension.
The vision quickly faded and Azula again saw a long corridor and a row of identical doors, only distinguished from each other by a number. She figured it must be cells similar to hers and realized how much she had been kept away from other residents all this time. She lived in a wing that had apparently been her own, but she found it difficult to see the mark of a prestigious guest anywhere. Her fear increased when a door opened at the end of the corridor. She discovered a narrow staircase that plunged into the cold, damp darkness of the building's basement.
One of the guards walked past her and lit a torch with a wave of his hand. He went ahead and led the way. The colossus followed him and laboriously descended the uneven steps, Azula still thrown casually over his muscular shoulder. When they got downstairs, Azula discovered a large room half-shrouded in darkness. Without the guard's torch, they would have been plunged into total darkness. All around her, on the walls, stood out in the flickering glow of the flames a half-dozen metal doors with multiple bolts each.
She was carried to the door which was at the far end of the room. She only heard the click of the key in the lock and the sound of several locks being opened one after the other. A hand wandered around the back of her head for a moment and removed her muzzle, much to her relief.
"You will need it in order not to starve!" The medic following them announced, a mocking expression displayed on his stupid face. And suddenly she was thrown abruptly onto a ground even harder and colder than that of her cell. A cloud of dust formed as her body landed heavily on the rocky surface.
Before they closed the door, she had time to take a look at her new room. The examination was rapid. It was not so much a cell as it was an entirely empty compartment. The place was in total darkness, and she saw no opening to the outside. The space between the wall and the back of the door did not allow an adult man to lie down. The ceiling height could not exceed four feet, judging by the way the guard, who had entered with her to take off her straitjacket, had to lean forward, bending his knees.
Distraught, she began to fidget. "What are you doing? Are you gonna leave me here? No, please, no! You can't! Don't leave me there, no!"
Deaf to her pleas, they all took a step back and without a glance for her, turned around and violently closed the door behind them. She heard the click of the key in the master lock and the sound of bolts being pushed back into place. Panic overtook her instantly and she immediately began to suffocate, looking around for an opening.
'can't breathe anymore...'
'will probably die.'
Azula ignored the voices that suddenly started talking all at once in her head. Trying to keep her calm, she struggled to resume normal breathing.
There had to be an opening, hadn't the doctor mentioned a trap door?
There is a sort of gate in the door. Air can pass through there.
This discovery helped her calm down for a second but suddenly she remembered the doctor's words, "You will spend the next few weeks in a cell specially equipped for the most recalcitrant cases."
The next weeks? No, it was impossible! She was going to die; she couldn't stay here more than a few minutes! She resumed panting loudly for some air and in her panic, she kicked the door and hit her toe. Tears of pain added to the tears of panic she had already started shedding.
Everything is fine sweetheart, everything is fine. I'm here!
It was her mother's voice. Azula quickly turned her head. For once, she was happy to hear it. But a quick examination of the room revealed there was no one there.
It's over now my heart, you are no longer in danger. Luckily your nanny has found you.
It was Zuzu who locked me here!
What are you talking about? Your brother wouldn't do such a thing!
Azula concentrated for a minute and took the opportunity to regain her composure a little.
These words, she remembered having heard them before, a long time ago. She had even spoken part of it.
It was not a hallucination, but a memory. So, since there was nothing else to do, she closed her eyes and let the wall in her mind that held back the memories she had decided to bury crack. She let them come back to the surface.
"Azula! Azulaaaa! Show yourself now! It's not funny anymore… Dad said he wanted to see you!"
Her brother's still young and uncertain voice echoed in the hall. She knew what he was doing. But he underestimated her! She was a big girl now; she wasn't three years old anymore. She had just celebrated her fourth birthday and was no longer the naive little sister he had once lured into her room and frightened by leaping at the last moment out of her closet. He wanted her to come out of her hiding place. He had probably been looking for her for hours in vain, and she knew he was getting bored. But Azula wouldn't let him win, not this time. Zuzu always won this game, it was unfair. Simply because he was faster, taller, and with his two years older, he'd had more opportunities to explore the palace in every nook and cranny.
It wasn't that Zuzu was better than her. Oh no! She equaled and even surpassed him in many areas. Despite her four years, she had already learned to read and began to write, while Zuko still stumbled over simple words and struggled to copy them correctly. Her reading was fluent, and the scribe had already shown her how to reproduce complex calligraphic characters. He had been positively impressed by her abilities and had praised her skills as a calligrapher to Mum who had given a kind smile to her daughter before returning her attention to Zuko who had again just spilled the contents of his ink bottle on the parchment.
"It's okay my little Prince, we're going to take another roll," she said patiently, gently placing the palm of her hand on her son's back.
And that was nothing. Zuzu had turned livid when Azula shot her first flame from the palm of her hand, just a week after he had started showing signs of bending himself. She was barely three years old at the time. Zuko must have waited until he had five to produce his first sparks. Azula was surprised that it had taken him so long: she had observed how Zuko was doing, and it had seemed rather easy to her.
She remembered that day like it was yesterday. They were all three in the small living room: mom, Zuzu, and she. Zuko spoke enthusiastically about his first bending lesson, during which his teacher had praised him, and his servants were loudly ecstatic about his immense talent. The Fire Lord Azulon himself had come to the session and soberly applauded his efforts at the end. Azula listened to them distractedly.
"I can do it too!" she assured.
She gazed at her hand, frowning in an expression of intense concentration that made Mom and Zuko laugh. After a few seconds, however, she had managed to create a small orange flame that had risen out of nothing and began to dance for a moment in her palm before gradually fading out. Mom and Zuko immediately stopped smiling and their eyes widened in surprise.
"Zuzu, Zuzu, look! I did it too! I did it! Did you see, Zuzu?" She exclaimed excitedly.
Bouncing up, she threw herself into her mother's arms, who had caught her uncertainly and patted her shoulder lightly before pushing her away, avoiding meeting her gaze. "It's nice honey, it's nice. And you Zuko? Would you like to show me your progress?"
A little disappointed by the restraint they had shown in front of her feat, she had turned her back on them, had sat at the foot of Mom's chair, and had revealed in her tiny palm a new glowing flame that she played between her fingers, imprinting funny shapes on it. It was an extraordinary sensation as if the fire bent to her will! She laughed happily but Mom and Zuko weren't looking at her anymore, too busy commenting on Zuko's prowess who had just made sparks fly with the snap of his fingers.
So it wasn't that bad if Zuko was better than her at "hide and seek". But still, it was not a reason to lose!
For a moment, she had almost fallen for his clumsy trap. What if Daddy had really called her to him? What would he say if she didn't obey? At the last moment, however, after making a movement to extricate herself from the large dusty wooden chest she had been hiding inside, she changed her mind and covered herself with the fabrics in the trunk. Then she lay still, holding her breath when she heard her brother enter the room where she was.
"I hope you're not here Zula! You know we are not allowed to play in rooms reserved for Grandpa's guests."
They were indeed in the apartments usually intended to receive the distinguished guests of the Fire Lord: ambassadors, diplomats, ministers of other realms, administrators of colonies, and other mortally boring characters who kept Grandfather and Dad for hours in the Throne room or in the Council Chamber, so much so that he had little time to rave about his daughter's fuliginous progress.
But Zuko knew his little sister well and suspected that she wouldn't give up a good hiding place even if it got her into trouble. Azula froze and blocked her breath as the lid of the trunk where she was hiding opened. Zuko couldn't see her. She was very tiny and hidden under a sufficient thickness of fabric so that even groping, he could not feel the presence of her little body curled up in a ball. With a curse, he slammed the lid of the trunk shut and strode over to the bedroom door, calling out for her. Azula suppressed a chuckle and swore to herself, at the first opportunity, to repeat to Mom the swear word he had just said. She stayed a while longer, reveling in the thought of her brother turning the whole palace to find her. For the first time in her life, she was about to win a game of hide and seek.
But soon, time began to feel long, and her stomach began to growl loudly. With a small laugh, she thought to herself that if Zuko had been there then, he would have immediately spotted her by the noise her stomach was making. She told herself that it must be snack time and that Mum should wait for her in the small living room with her favorite pastries and maybe a bowl full of the last cherries of the season. Maybe this time she would take the time to read a story with her. She could curl up on her knees and suck her thumb while Mom stroked her hair and read to her The Tale of the Three Dragons. Well, only if Zuko didn't join them. She had sworn to him that she had stopped sucking her thumb on her fourth birthday and would have been mortified if he found out about her lie.
And then it was starting to get a little hot in there. She pushed back the sheets that covered her face and ran her hand through her hair to comb it up a bit and remove the electricity that made it sit upon her head. She sat down and began to push back the wooden cover. He didn't move. She frowned. She'd had no difficulty lifting the lid when she entered the room earlier and had chosen the safe as the perfect hiding place. She tried again but nothing happened. She did it a third time, this time putting all her strength into it. Nothing.
Concern was starting to take hold of her. Mom and Dad would get mad if she didn't show up on time for dinner and the dusty environment started to get heavy. The game didn't seem as fun to her anymore and the trunk was no longer as big as she had first thought it would be.
A memory suddenly struck her. When closing the trunk, Zuko had slammed the lid and she'd heard a small noise of mechanism. She remembered how Dad had explained to her that once closed, these safes could only be opened from the outside with a small key that only the host who occupied the apartments could have. This was supposed to allow him to conceal documents, treasures, or other precious or embarrassing objects that he would like to conceal from prying eyes. She herself had a similar chest in which she hid her treasures or small items that she had stolen from Zuko. There was even the pretty music box she had seen at Mai's house which had made her want so much!
She was suddenly overcome by a wave of panic. Relinquishing her pride, she called out, "Zuko?" But there was no answer. "Zuko! she started again. A deafening silence answered her. So she began to bang her little fists and feet with all the force against the wooden walls and began to scream for help. In her panic, she made small sparks appear which fell in rain on one of the dresses under which she had been hiding. Immediately, small holes formed, and smoke rose from them. Horrified, she patted the fabric of the palms of both hands to stifle the threat of fire. Fortunately, her technique worked, but it did nothing against the thick smoke that had started to fill the confined space around her, and she quickly began to cough. She was trying to scream between fits of coughing and heavy sobs of panic.
"Mamaaaa!"
Her cough redoubled. Azula buried her face in a cloth to avoid inhaling the acrid smoke that crept into her bronchi and lungs. For the first time in her life, she thought that maybe she was going to die. She was going to die here, alone, in the dark, for wanting to win at a stupid game. After a while, she started to feel a little dizzy. Her head was spinning, and she was nauseous.
Soon, unable to refrain, she vomited on the dresses she held on her knees. She took a moment to recover and let the painful spasms that shook her stomach settle: then she stood up vigorously on her feet in a last desperate attempt to lift the lid above her. But it didn't even move a millimeter. So, she let herself be overcome by tears and lay down on her side, again burying her head in the fabrics that lined the bottom of the trunk and closed her eyes, waiting for the inevitable.
Access to these apartments was strictly prohibited. No one would think of coming to get her here, not even Zuko who had been there before and probably wouldn't think of coming back to get her there.
She thought for a moment what Zuzu would look like upon discovering her little corpse, months later perhaps when the smell would become strong enough to signal its presence. The cook's son told her one day that she was having fun throwing pebbles with him into the duck-turtle pond, that when we died, our corpses would rot, and we would be eaten by worms. It had horrified her. From then, she had started to live in the anguish of her own death. It was not clean, and unworthy of a princess! She wondered if the worms would have had time to devour her when they found her or if there was something left of her outside her tiny skeleton. Would Zuzu feel guilty? Would he remember that it was he who had closed the trunk?
Would Mom be sad without her? Would she have another little girl? A little girl who would love to play dinette and doll and let her braid her hair for hours, as she wanted? Instead of her lively and stubborn younger daughter who preferred to run through the halls of the palace, jump in puddles on rainy days, play leapfrog, and fill her pockets with acorns, pebbles, and dirt, which she compared and traded with the treasures amassed by the little servants, or the cookies stolen by the clerks and the cook's son in the palace gardens?
Azula was almost unconscious when she was found. She barely heard the horrified exclamation of the nursemaid when she opened the trunk, assailed by the acrid smell of smoke and vomit that rushed up to her throat, and found her small, tight body.
"She's here, your Highness! I found her! Oh! My Gods! Wake up, little princess!"
She was vaguely aware of the strong arms that lifted her up and carried her away from this hell.
When she woke up hours later, she was in bed. Mom was sitting across from her in a small armchair with a book in her hand, gazing blankly at the landscape through the window.
"Mom?" Azula called in a weak, uncertain voice. The effort immediately triggered a violent coughing fit.
"Azula!" Mom shouted, rushing to her bedside, sitting on the bed next to her, and hugging her for a few seconds, not too long to let her breathe.
"Everything is fine sweetheart, everything is fine. I'm here!"
"I thought I was going to die!" she whimpered.
"It's over now my heart, you are no longer in danger. Luckily your nanny has found you. What were you doing in that trunk for the gods sake?"
"It was Zuzu who locked me here!"
"What are you talking about? Your brother wouldn't do such a thing! He was mad with anguish while we were looking for you! You still have a fever, she said, touching her sweaty forehead. This is probably what makes you ramble."
Azula gave up on explaining the details. Mom wouldn't believe her anyway. Her precious little prince embodied goodness, and indeed she herself was not sure that he had done it on purpose.
"My god Azula! I was so scared! I have never seen your father so angry! Zuko cried for hours after you were discovered. Promise me never to do it again!"
"I promise Mom" she swore in a very small voice before snuggling up to her mother who hugged her gently, careful not to hurt her.
This had been the last time, she thought bitterly, that her mother had been by her bedside when she woke up. If she did not count, of course, all the times she had woken up in her bed, or on the floor of her cell in the asylum, only to feel Ursa's ghostly hand, brushing aside the strains sticking to her forehead.
Azula remembered having been touched to learn her brother had cried for her. As a gage of gratitude, she hadn't denounced him for closing the trunk and they had never mentioned it again. Besides, she couldn't have told the story without revealing her share of responsibility for this disaster and Father would have been even more angry with her. It was also, it seemed to her, the first time that she had felt loved, truly and sincerely loved. The memory still summoned in her a confused mixture of conflicting emotions: fear, panic, and despair fought the joy, relief, and serenity as she thought back on this mishap. On the other hand, she had retained an irrational fear of closed and dark places. The princess had never been seen playing hide and seek again or sneaking into the cupboards or furniture of the palace. She made an exception, however, when she hid behind the curtains to listen to the conversations in the throne room. But the presence of four solid walls around her plunged her into terrible states of panic.
No one knew, except Mom and Zuzu... and Father of course. Father, who had been very prompt at exploiting this weakness when the time came to teach Azula a lesson she would remember her whole life. The day of the Black Sun, when Zuko betrayed her and ran away without a word for her.
Don't think about it! a voice hissed near her ear.
The voices were always there to warn her when her mind roamed in forbidden directions. So, dutifully, Azula, once again, erected in her head the impenetrable brick wall she had built for herself and locked the ugly thought into it.
She didn't know how long she had been there. It could be a few hours, a few days, or even several years.
At first, she had tried to count the number of meals that regularly arrived in her cell through a small hatch in the door, in order to estimate the time that had elapsed. It was also this way that she used to pass her chamber pot when it needed to be replaced. It was, along with a flask filled with stagnant water, the only items she had been left with. Her water was changed frequently, but Azula still had to learn to ration it. Most of the time, her throat was dry and the feeling of thirst soon added to the feeling of choking. Sometimes, when the need for oxygen became intolerable, she would simply push the small hatch open and put her face to it to eagerly breathe some air. Sometimes she would stay in this position for hours, lying on her stomach in the dust.
She could not tell for sure, but it seemed to her that she was being fed twice a day. But maybe it was three times? Her calculation did not hold in this case... She had tried to call the person who was dragging her bowl, but she had never received any response. She assumed the staff and guards had been instructed not to contact her. Her meals were delivered to her in a bowl, without chopsticks, and without cutlery. She correctly assumed that the doctor had forbidden to provide her with any object with which she could have hurt herself, or anyone else. She'd had to resign herself to eating the infamous porridge that was served to her with her hand, with the help of her fingers which she used like pliers to not dirty her face, as she had seen peasants do during her travels in the Earth Kingdom.
She felt fading away more every day.
Once she pretended to be sick, hoping she would be let out, but her poor attempt did not have the desired effect. Another time she really was and spent endless hours throwing up in her chamber pot and rolling on the floor, her hands clutching her stomach. But her complaints and moans were not heard.
There was no longer any difference between day and night, she was perpetually shrouded in cold darkness. She forced herself regularly, when she was not too exhausted, to some gymnastic exercises. As an athlete and firebending champion, she knew better than anyone that the body was meant to move. Fortunately, her small stature allowed her to move around a bit in her cell and even jump to her feet without touching the ceiling.
It was always better than the trunk.
She closed her eyes against the memory that was straining to enter her mind.
Don't think about the trunk anymore.
She would do a few flexes, stretch her legs and arms, and sometimes even try to balance on her hands like Ty Lee did. But her strength soon gave up and she gave up when she fell back and banged her nose violently against the rigid floor of her cubicle.
She couldn't remember ever having been so desperate.
She had come to enjoy the company of the voices that continued to slavishly parrot her thoughts or make a comment every time she wiggled a toe.
She had hoped that Mother would come. She could have let herself be cuddled and rested her head on her knees. Her mother repeatedly ran her long, thin fingers through her thick black hair and untied the knots. Azula thought that she might even have started to believe her when she told her that she loved her. She would have let this beautiful lie delude her. But Ursa hadn't shown herself, even though she had been her most frequent visitor until then. She had abandoned her, once again. Azula supposed she was angry with her for what she had done to Zuko. She never thought she would miss these visits.
At the same time, she noticed that the lack of treatment made her more lucid. She no longer had any episodes of absence where she woke up in a daze, all stunned without any memory of the hours that had gone before. Yet she would have wished so desperately. She was forced to endure every second, every minute of this ordeal. And that did not even spare her the hallucinations that regularly tormented her. However, she had to admit that she greeted them a few times with gratitude. They were now her only company. If she had been told that she would one day miss the doctor or the bullies who looked after her in her cell, that she would think nostalgically of the grim and gray little courtyard in which she was allowed to take a few steps for her daily walk...
That the need for a simple shower would be felt to the point that she would have accepted without blushing the insistent gaze of Xi or Chen on her naked body...
Sleeping in a bed...
Washing herself...
And seeing the Sun… finally.
Sometimes when the darkness around her got too oppressive, she would produce a small flame in the palm and watch it flicker until it died. The azure color of her flames, once a source of joy and pride, filled her prison with a cold, mysterious, and somewhat disturbing glow. For the first time in her life, she wished her fire had the same orange, warm and reassuring hue as Zuzu's. It seemed to her that her inner fire was drying up.
Firebenders derive their power from solar energy. So, it was no surprise, after so many days spent in the dark, that her strength was waning. She didn't dare generate more powerful flames anyway. Her cell was way too small, and she would have burned herself. Anyway, there was nothing in the room that would keep a fire going for more than a few seconds. The floor and the walls were hewn in stone.
She would have liked to be able to light one up though. Once, as she fell asleep, she heard a caressing voice calling out to her in the dark. Before she could conjure a flame, she felt something brush against her hips. Soon, it was dozens of hands that began to touch her all at the same time, to caress her, to pinch her, to feel her, to explore her whole body while whispering her name. She couldn't remember ever having been so terrified in her whole life. Her screams echoed through the compartment and when she finally managed to sit up and generate a flickering flame in her palm, the hands were gone.
To prevent another attack like this, she got into the habit of sleeping curled up in a deliberately uncomfortable position, leaning against the wall. If the hands came back, they could only come from in front of her and she could push them back more easily.
She spent her nights - at least what she assumed to be nights - sitting, trembling all over her body, looking all around her, both hands cupped in front of her to shield the little flames she was generating for both keeping warm and dispelling the darkness. She ate with one hand, cradling a flame with the other, and spent the rest of the day lying in the dust, fighting a fierce battle against the unpleasant memories that assailed her day and night.
One day or one night - but who knows? - she awoke, lying on her stomach, her body aching. She must have fallen asleep in a bad posture because her neck and her back were making her suffer more than usual and she no longer felt her arms. In a last-ditch effort to find a more comfortable position, Azula tried to stand up, leaning on her hands, but her numb arms could not support her weight and she collapsed on the floor, her cheek against the cold cell floor.
She let out a small cry of pain and tears of both frustration and anger escaped her eyes as she gasped painfully.
"Ouch! Maybe you should ask Ty Lee for more lessons... I've known you in better shape. Are you running out of practice?"
The monotonous voice with such a familiar timbre seemed to have risen from the darkness and Azula shivered fiercely. She immediately closed her eyes, hoping it could make it disappear, as Zuko had taught her to do to chase away the monsters and evil spirits who, as a child, cast their ominous shadows on her bedroom's curtains...
Count to ten, Zula, then they're gone, you'll see. And if they come back, call me. I will protect you.
Azula felt something tighten painfully in her chest to the evocation of this distant time. She didn't think she had ever been happy in her life, but if she ever had a glimpse of happiness, it was undoubtedly in her very early childhood, when her mother did not yet see in her the monster she was going to become, and that she was more of a little sister than a rival to Zuko.
"I think I preferred your old palace room…" The apparition continued casually. Azula could almost sense behind her closed eyelids the wide sleeves of her crimson dress, pulled back to her back, as she surveyed the cubicle with a mock interested expression. She could easily imagine the heavy black bangs crossing her forehead and the two long strands of dark hair that framed the angular face of her former best friend.
"Are the furnishings and decoration not to your liking? I have to say I'm not surprised," Azula replied laconically, "you've never been one to give up comfort or get your hands dirty. At least Ty Lee never refused me a job... I should have reconsidered your loyalty when you dropped us in the drill in front of Ba Sing Se... I should have ousted you that day."
"Come on, you both seemed to have so much fun wading through the mud and the mire like a common peasant. I could not deprive you of such pleasure... If that is not devotion, then I don't know myself..."
"You were never devoted to me or loyal to me. You betrayed me! You all betrayed me in the end!"
"You were going to kill Zuko…"
"I had no other choice!" Azula retorted in a shrill voice filled with despair.
"It was I who brought him back to the palace, I was the one who put him back in the good graces of our father, it was I who pushed you in his arms! And you abandoned me!"
A long silence followed her speech. Azula thought bitterly about how she had played matchmaker, hoping to secure her brother's loyalty to her and their nation. She had always known that she would not be a sufficient reason for him to stay; it needed something having the strength of a commitment, a motivation. Her brother was just a second version of their mother. Negligible, superficial, sensitive, envious, letting themselves be guided by that absurd inclination they called love.
So she had decided to exploit this weakness he seemed to share with Mai. Azula wasn't sure what others called 'love' and didn't think she wanted to understand. If love consisted of watching Mum and Zuzu playing in the palace gardens, making, little paper cranes together in the reading room in the evening, while she spied on them, hidden in the bush or behind the curtains, then it didn't interest her. If to love was to look eagerly at Father craving for praise that would never come, after performing a complex kata that many senior masters did not master, then she was not interested.
If to love was to wait in bed, her favorite book on her knees, for Mom to come and tell her a story, as she did every night for Zuko, then fall asleep and wake up in the morning to find that the invisible thread she had placed in front of the door (to know if anyone had entered while she slept) had remained intact, so that didn't interest her either.
If to love was to read, on Zuko's face, contempt and exasperation every time she came to meet him for a chat, then what was the point?
Love only caused pain and disillusionment. It was something she didn't understand. Azula wasn't used to things getting out of hand. It was upsetting. Love kept you from focusing on what really mattered: performance, perfection, discipline. It was futile, ridiculous. It was a weakness.
For a moment, the fact her brother had chosen to join her in the catacombs at Ba Sing Se, at the most decisive moment, gave her hope. The hope that maybe, she deserved his respect, his attention, his approval... A shameful part of her mind had even flirted with the idea that he might love her a little. But the way he treated her next, on the way home, the contemptuous and disgusted looks he gave her every time she appeared in his line of sight, the angry tone he used when he looked at her, addressed her, the way his jaw clenched and his whole body tensed when she touched him. For him, as for their mother, she would never be anything but a monster.
Once, she had taken her father's approval for tenderness. But he abandoned her at the worst moment, rejected her, without even one look back, without even a gesture of affection or a piece of advice to prove worthy of a title - they both knew it - stripped of all meaning since Ozai had proclaimed himself Phoenix King.
Then Zuko had returned. The day of the Comet. And he destroyed her. He had thrown her here, like a dangerous animal or a compromising object that he wants to get rid of. He abandoned her and would never come back to see her again now that she had attacked him so savagely.
"It's still about him, isn't it?" Mai whispered; her voice suddenly charged with a solemnity unusual even for her.
Azula jumped. She had almost forgotten her presence.
Then, after another round of silence, Mai added, "In fact, my betrayal is nothing. You don't care that I turned my back on you. The truth we both know is you never could bear that he chose me."
Jaw clenched, Azula closed her eyelids even more tightly as if to chase away an unpleasant sight or a violent headache, painfully fighting back the tears she could already feel in her throat. In a desperate gesture, she put her hands to her ears so as not to hear the taunts of the one who had once claimed to be her friend. But it was unnecessary of course.
"Poor Azula… I understand how you feel…" The appearance continued in a falsely sympathetic tone behind which one could easily discern a note of barely concealed amused contempt. Azula didn't have to look to know that Mai had to be sitting comfortably in a corner of the room, playing with one of the many knives she hid in the flared sleeves of her dress; without even bothering to lay eyes on the miserable figure of the broken princess she had once respected.
"He didn't even leave you a letter, did he? He abandoned you and ran away. Then he told your father everything you had done… when you had done it for him… How ungrateful! He didn't even stop to think for a second what it would mean for you to denounce you the way he did."
There was still silence.
"It's true that he's always been a bit of a fool, don't you think?" she continued as Azula didn't answer. "But isn't that what makes him so endearing?"
"Shut up," Azula snapped at her dryly. "You know nothing! Don't talk about what you don't know. He doesn't know, he never knew... he never understood..."
Azula found it became difficult to breathe. For a moment she waged a futile battle against the tears that painfully burned her darkened eyes, and finally, she let out a furious sob that was accompanied by a shower of tears that fell on her shirt and arms.
"Yuck!" Mai exclaimed with a disgusted look on her face. "I have known much more elegant ostrich horses! And to say that I envied you for a moment… You were perfect: you bent fire; you were more beautiful, intelligent, brilliant… You were the pride of your nation. But in the end, he chose me. How ironic, don't you think?"
Azula couldn't answer. She had succumbed to the tears which flowed down her nose, her cheeks, and her lips, offering a pathetic spectacle. Mai wasn't really there anyway, was she? Now, she must have been released from prison and rewarded for service to the Nation. She probably lived in the palace, sleeping in silk sheets, snuggled up against Zuko who was certainly looking at her lovingly, stroking her long black locks.
How many times had she imagined him running his hand through her hair?
Mai could say whatever she wanted. When he was worried, when he was seized by doubt, it was she, Azula, that he came to seek. It was in her words and her sarcasm that he found the comfort and reassurance he needed. That fool had never been aware of it, but he needed her.
Otherwise, why would he join her in Ba Sing Se?
She knew her brother well, and she had not failed to notice his gloomy mood on the way home, in the ship that brought them back to the Caldera where Father would welcome them as heroes and where they would cover themselves with glory.
As she could not cheer him up and because she feared that he would change his mind again, she thought, "Desperate times, desperate measures". She thus arranged, with the complicity of Ty Lee to reunite Zuko and Mai who had always had an inclination for each other. Her plan worked wonderfully. Thus, Zuko was happier, and she kept the situation under control. Mai was loyal to her and Azula had made sure it was perfectly clear to her friend that she had the power to end their relationship at any time.
At least that's what she thought.
The love affair between Mai and her brother had taken a direction that Azula had not foreseen. Zuko had stayed and although he was tormented by thoughts about their uncle and father, he seemed happy when he was in the presence of the knife thrower. Too happy. They spent most of their days together and her brother would desert the palace at night to secretly go to the girl's room and stay there until morning. Azula knew it. Nothing escaped her.
It would have been easy to put an end to it. She could have told Father that Zuko was leaving his room after dark. He would have discovered that his son was having a less than adequate affair with his governor's daughter. But she gave up after the stay on Ember Island when she realized that only Mai's presence kept Zuko close to her. And she feared above all that Ozai would find out that her foolish brother had taken the reckless risk of visiting his uncle a few times in prison. He would have been accused of treason and Azula could not have done anything to protect him. The fool had been too stubborn to heed her warnings.
So, as she could not hope for better, she settled for slipping into his room at night when he was not there. She would walk through secret passages known only to members of the royal family. Once in Zuko's apartments, she walked around the room, opened drawers and cupboards. Often, she would open the closet and grab hold of her brother's outfit that she hugged and inhaled slowly, closing her eyes to get drunk on his scent. Then she slipped into the silk sheets of his still-warm bed and snuggled up against his pillows, trying to find the perfume of his hair on them, imagining that it was him, that he was holding her in his arms, that he kissed her softly on the forehead, as he probably was doing at the same time with Mai.
"Zuko..." She whispered sometimes, caressing the empty place next to her.
"I think I'm going to throw up..." Mai's voice brought her abruptly back to reality. Her reality. Opening her eyes again, she found herself again in the small, narrow, and dark cell under the disdainful gaze of her former friend's ghost. Azula lowered her head and felt herself blush.
"Your own brother… so you really have no morals?"
Azula didn't answer. What to say anyway? Did this pale imitation of Mai really imagine that she had not already repeated the same words a thousand times to herself?
Did she really need to tell it about the confusion, the shame that invaded her when she suddenly woke up in her brother's bed, when she heard him come in and she sped off, sometimes stumbling on the ground in her race, to regain the secret passage which led her back to her room where she stood for a moment against the wall, panting, desperate, still holding in her hand the garment she had taken from him?
Should she describe to it the guilt that gnawed at her when, after secretly witnessing her brother's training in the yard, she returned to her apartments thinking about his muscular body, that she imagined how those hands that came from producing such scorching flames would have landed, still hot against her skin and started to stroke her?
"Indeed," Mai said in the most disgusted tone she could, "I would rather you abstain. I have seen my fair share of horror in my life. No need to add this image...
"So, stop reading my mind!"
"Zuko is mine, Azula. And always will be. He's lost to you. You better accept it. With everything you've done to him, what else can you hope for?"
Azula didn't answer. Mai was right. She had to stop clinging to this absurd hope and focus on herself, on her future. She had to find a way out of this horrible place, in good health. She had to learn to control herself, regain the privileges she had lost. She swore to herself that if she ever got out of here, she would stop attacking anyone who came near her, that she would no longer respond to hallucinations in the presence of other people and that she would obediently answer the doctor's questions. Only then would she regain her strength, she would once again become the talented and powerful princess she had always been. And she would take back what was rightfully hers. She would get what she wanted, whatever she wanted. She was about to say it all out loud but when she looked up to speak, Mai was gone.
She was all alone in the dark.
Again, Azula couldn't remember being released from prison. She just woke up one morning and opened her eyes to white walls. Blinded, she closed her eyelids and turned her head to the side to escape the dazzling light that entered through the window. She wanted to rub them but her arms didn't obey her. They were crossed on her chest. She realized that she had found her straitjacket back.
Finally, she cautiously opened her eyes and recognized the bare and familiar surroundings of her cell. Tears of relief and gratitude rolled down her cheeks and even the straitjacket suddenly seemed like a small price to pay. The cell seemed reassuring and welcoming to her, and the too firm mattress of her bed had the softness of a cloud.
Her heart leaped violently in her chest at the characteristic click of the key in the lock and the door opened on the first face she had seen after what she assumed was weeks. She let out a gasp of surprise when the last person she would have expected to see entered the room. She gazed with a mixture of fear and dismay at the petite figure, clad in a blue dress, the half-bun that surmounted a cascade of brown hair, the dark skin, and the eyes as deep blue as the jewel around her neck.
"Hello Azula..." the newcomer called out uncertainly.
At the sound of her voice, Azula jerked back and used her shoulders to straighten up. She pushed on her feet to back up, throwing the sheets of her bed to the floor. Her back and head hit the wall behind her as she tried to put as much distance as possible between herself and her enemy.
"Don't be afraid Azula, I mean no harm to you!" Katara hastened to add, a hand raised in front of her.
"W-why should I be afraid of you, m-miserable p-peasant!" The tone she had wanted proud and determined was nothing short of convincing. And the way her eyes had suddenly widened when she saw the girl who had haunted her nightmares enter, no doubt betrayed the panic she felt.
The voices immediately resumed their conversations in her head:
No- No-NoNoNoNo!
We are not ready for a fight!
She came to kill us?
Zuko sent her!
It must be a hallucination.
But Katara did not seem to have malicious intent. She looked at her shyly and didn't dare approach, for fear of scaring the paranoid princess in front of her.
What the hell is she doing there?
Is she going to try to drown us again?
"Shut up! Shut up!" Azula yelled at the room furiously. Katara looked around as if searching for the person the princess had addressed and looked a little confused when she saw that they were definitely alone in the cell with the padded walls.
"Who are you talking to..." But she paused immediately, bringing her hand to her mouth as if to force herself into silence. A glimmer of guilt shone in her azure eyes for a moment. Azula felt her panic subside. It was anger that succeeded. Zuko had told her about the hallucinations.
That traitor! The last thing she wanted was for her worst enemy to know how crazy she was.
"Why are you here?" she risked, raising a suspicious eyebrow. "And when did I come back?"
"Two days ago. You've been unconscious the entire time. I'm here because Zuko asked me to. You were very sick. When they took you out of ... the place where they put you, you were so weak we thought..."
Katara had stepped forward cautiously as she spoke, both hands clasped in front of her as if to indicate that she did not pose a threat to Azula. However, the princess couldn't help but tense up in her straitjacket.
"I have never seen Zuko so angry," Katara said. He immediately fired the doctor who was taking care of you. You were deeply anemic when you were found and hypothermic. Zuko asked me to watch over you until you were better."
Azula felt seized by great confusion. It was a lot of news all at once. She concentrated on the most urgent:
"Hu ... Huan-Li left?"
"Yes. Zuko brought in two other doctors to take care of you. One of her is called Taïma, she comes from the Northern Water Tribe. She's young, you'll see, but she's a very promising healer. I've met her before and I'm sure you'll love her!"
She blushed slightly at the disbelieving expression on Azula's face and continued in a more moderate tone, "The other is a great Fire Nation psychiatrist who lived in exile in the settlements. Your fath... Ozai had sent him there years ago. I don't remember his name anymore, but he has an excellent reputation. They'll take care of you now. Zuko entrusted them with the responsibility of the Institution.
"It's okay now Azula, she said in a motherly tone that caused her chest to contract painfully. No one will hurt you anymore."
She felt distraught. She looked right and left, looking for support, or a clue that would prove to her that she wasn't dreaming. Katara gave her some time. But in the end, Azula asked the question that burned her lips, "What about Xi and Chen?"
"Who?"
"Male Nurses!" she cut impatiently. The big monsters who drug me and follow me wherever I go! Where are they? Did Zuko send them away too?"
"Uh… I don't think so… Zuko only fired the doctor. The others were just obeying his orders I guess"
Azula struggled to hide the disappointment in her eyes but looked away so as not to meet Katara's look of false concern at her, and she couldn't stand to see those hated eyes for another minute. She lowered her head and returned her attention to her toes as if they were the most fascinating thing in the world.
"Where is Zuko now?"
"With your new doctors. He wanted to talk to them before introducing them to you. He doesn't know you're awake. He will be glad."
"Why isn't he kneeling down in tears in front of my pain bed? Definitely, he will never stop disappointing m..." she quipped.
Katara's brow furrowed, giving her face a scowl that didn't suit her. "Be happy to have a brother like Zuko!" He was more than generous to you! After everything you've done to him, you're lucky that he takes care of you the way he does. If it were up to me…
"Tell me, Katara..."
The girl jumped slightly, as if she was surprised to hear the princess call her by name.
"Has your brother locked you in a lunatic asylum recently? Did he send you away from your friends and family to rot in a place like this?"
She knew she had hit a sore spot. Katara's brown cheeks darkened, indicating she had blushed, and she looked down.
Satisfied with this reaction, Azula decided to maintain her advantage:
"I would have preferred that the decision be yours! If he really cared about me, he would have killed me with his own hands! Because he would know that I would have preferred to die rather than rot within these walls!"
As she spoke, her nerves slipped out of control, and she angrily felt the familiar sensation of a lump forming in her throat that threatened to burst at any moment. Azula cursed herself. She hadn't wanted to let her emotions dominate her. Not in front of her. She didn't want anything to do with this vile peasant girl, let alone guess what was on her heart.
"Listen, Azula ..." Katara began. But she was interrupted by the sound of the door opening to let in a new visitor.
Zuko appeared in the frame, this time dressed in a simple tunic, baggy thigh-high pants, and a pair of pointy-toe boots. Azula noticed that he had relinquished the crown as well. Azula struggled for a second against the images that this detail brought back to her memory.
"Katara, Taïma, and I talked about…" But he paused the second his golden eyes fell on his sister. Obviously, he hadn't expected to find her conscious. An awkward silence followed. Katara looked at her feet.
Azula held Zuko's gaze, fighting against the tears lurking at the edges of her eyelids.
"Azula… you are awake…" It was not a question. She had never heard him speak in such a soft voice, except for the last time, just before she attacked him when he had stroked her cheek with his fingertips. A shiver ran through her spine at the memory.
She searched for something to say, some poisonous word, a scathing thought, but the words stuck in her throat. She guessed that Zuko must be feeling the same way. The silence between them became deafening and it was Katara who decided to break it, "Azula woke up a few minutes ago. I explained the situation to her, she announced. And, lowering her voice, thinking she wouldn't hear her, she added: "She seems lucid…
"Really?" Zuko asked, his eyes widening in astonishment.
"Sometimes she is."
It was Azula who spoke, furious that she was being referred to as if she wasn't even there. The intact part of her brother's face took on a crimson hue, but he quickly recovered and raised his head dignified. Azula thought that the few months spent at the head of the Fire Nation must have taught him some basics of emotion management. This is new… How ironic!
"Azula," he said in a firm and formal tone that made her want to laugh, "I'm glad to see you again. How do you feel?"
"Oh, please Zuzu, let's save the usual formalities! I don't have the energy for this. Just tell me what you came here to do and go! Unless you came to free me, but I highly doubt it..."
"Sorry, Azula but I can't free you, not yet. You are still very sick, and I've already explained to you that you are safe here. The whole Earth Kingdom is claiming your head..."
"I'm not sure it's the right time to talk to her about that Zu…", interrupted Katara.
"Oh yes, on the contrary, it's the perfect time. Tell me, my dear brother, tell me how the world is craving to spill my blood, to see my head enthroned on a pike on the ramparts of Ba Sing Se. Maybe you can get it back when everyone is tired of it and you can display it in your room. And you will look at it whenever you doubt your power. Every time you think of the impostor that you are! It will remind you of how beautiful and terrible you were the day you let a vulgar peasant girl slay your little sister! While you were incapable of it! Please tell me Zuzu! I can't wait for hearing it!"
Her voice had undergone many variations as she delivered her tirade. Sometimes mocking, sometimes angry, sometimes caressing, breaking down at the end when she spoke of her defeat.
Zuko and Katara both looked deeply uncomfortable.
Perfect.
She gritted her teeth, curling her lips in a grimace of fierce satisfaction.
"Azula, please don't do this…" Zuko started.
"Don't do what?! You have to stop! Stop lying to me, lying to yourself. Stop lying to the boorish that you have chosen to be friends! Stop hiding behind noble intentions and admit that it suits you to have an excuse to get rid of me!"
"This is wrong Azula… Please listen to me."
Katara had withdrawn into a corner of the cell and crossed her arms over her chest, as if trying to take up as little space as possible, to be forgotten. Azula didn't care about her presence now. She wasn't the one who was going to stop him now that she had started throwing at Zuko the truths he had denied for so long!
"No! No! I don't want to listen to you anymore! I don't want to believe you anymore! You hate me, you both always hated me! She always saw me as a monster, and you too! She convinced you of that when you didn't even know how to read yet! She turned you against me, she made enemies of us!"
Her voice had grown shrill at this point in their exchange and big tears rolled down her cheeks.
"Azula, you're rambling! Katara didn't even know you when…" but he paused and opened wide eyes in horror when a glimmer of understanding crossed his mind.
"Are you talking about... Mom?"
"Don't say that word!" she said in a small hissing voice full of deep distress.
Azula was furious with herself. She had to stay in control, she had to. She couldn't get angry again, she couldn't go back to the cave under the earth, she wouldn't survive a second stay in the dark. She did her best to catch her breath and channel her anger, cover it up. She was a past master in the art of hiding her moods. It was this ability that had allowed her to learn lightningbending at an incredibly young age. Why couldn't she do it now? Would she be able one day to generate lightning again if the slightest annoyance became a pretext for an explosive outburst of emotions?
This was the moment that chose Ursa to show off.
Azula hadn't seen her since the day she attacked Zuko. She was standing right behind him as if to shield herself from her daughter, her delicate features imprinted with her usual melancholy. Why did she always have to appear at the worst times? Azula couldn't suppress a desperate moan.
The sound and her expression must have betrayed her as Zuko and Katara were now staring at her with big, widened eyes where she could read an unbearable pity. When her brother opened his mouth to speak, it was Ursa's voice that spoke through his lips and spoke the damned words she had sworn to herself never to believe again, "I love you Azula. I really do."
What would she have be ready to offer to be able to press her hands against her ears! To no longer have to hear this odious lie, to banish forever this specter who had decided to make hell out of her life? And how could Zuko be the accomplice of this vile betrayal? How? Or What? While she had lost everything for him, everything!
So she did the only thing she could: she screamed. It was one of those hoarse, prolonged howls that make your blood run cold, that makes you feel that your heart has stopped and will never be able to start again. She had closed her eyes so as not to see them anymore. So, she jumped violently when two strong hands gripped her shoulders tightly and began to shake her unceremoniously.
"Stop Azula! Stop immediately! You're crazy!" Zuko's voice yelled.
"Nononono! Don't touch me!"
"Shut up, little slut! Do you want everyone to hear you?"
Was it her imagination, or had her brother's voice gone down a few octaves?
She stopped screaming and cautiously lifted her eyelids one after the other. Her amber eyes widened until they looked huge in her livid face, in shock at what she saw. And when they plunged into the golden irises that stared at her intensely, it was not her brother's face that appeared to her, but her father's one, sharp and which seemed carved with a knife.
The white walls of her cell seemed to have vanished. There was no trace of Zuko, nor of his Water Tribe peasant.
All she could see was the crimson canopy of his four-poster bed in his palace room, from which she couldn't take her wide eyes off.
And all she could hear were his hoarse exhalations in her neck, his throaty breath in the crook of her ear as he spoke to her:
"You're mine! You belong to me, not to him. You will be what I want you to be! You will do what I demand!"
His strong arms wrapped around her waist and shoulders so tightly that it was impossible for her to move, let alone escape.
His weight rested on her rib cage and prevented her from breathing.
And the excruciating burning sensation between her legs as he sank deeper and deeper into her.
His strong and massive body which completely covered hers, like the shadow of the Moon had obscured the face of the Sun that very same day.
Far away, she thought she heard someone screaming. It looked like someone was being tortured; and, even further, from another world or another time, a female voice that cried, "Zuko! Let go of her! You can see she is terrified!"
But who did these voices belong to? Who could scream like that? Someone needed help! Why wasn't anyone helping this poor girl? And why was the other voice addressing Zuko?
He wasn't even there.
He was gone, he had abandoned her. He was fleeing from her, like the Moon, after briefly merging with the Sun, had moved away from it forever.
How much time would pass before the two stars meet again?
And now she was alone with father.
Alone with him in his large four-poster bed. The day of the Black Sun...
She remembered now.