#❅ (REL) ZUKO & AZULA // EVEN IF YOU NEVER DO SOME REMARKABLE THING. THAT DOESN’T MEAN YOUR NOT WORTH REMEMBERING.

[voidfcllen-a]

I ain’t ever done a thread with Zuko but let me tell you MY TAGS ARE ON POINT AND I AM PROUD OF THEM.

[bellatrixobsessed1]

The Art Of Remembrance (Part 14)

“You should be happy! It was progress.” Sokka smiles.

“Minimal progress might as well be no progress at all.” Azula returns his expression with a frown that is just as dreary as his smile is hopeful.

“That’s not true.” Sokka insists. “I think that all Katara and Aang needed was a little sign. They’ll go easier on you now. And Zuko seemed pretty worried when he thought that you left again.”

Azula folds her arms across her chest.

“I think Toph likes you.” He tries.

“Maybe…”

“Did you sleep better last night?” He asks.

For the first time in weeks, her sleep wasn’t plagued with nightmares. She doesn’t recall having woken up at all in the night. She isn’t sure if she should attribute this to Sokka sleeping on the floor next to her bed, or the weight it had taken from her to have finally tried to form a friendship or two. At the very least, she had the pleasure of overhearing her brother suggest that they give her a chance before sending her off to the institution again. She has time and a chance now.

“I did.” She replies.

“Do you know how hard it is to talk to you when you only reply with two words?”

Azula shrugs.

“Or none at all.”

“Difficult, I suppose.”

“Three words! You’re being generous today!”

Azula rolls her eyes. Truly, she doesn’t want to be entertained by the man’s antics, but she finds that she is, more or less anyhow. Though her generosity fades, not particularly a spiteful gesture so much as it is that her mind begins to wander away from the present again. She hasn’t dreamed of the vines nor the men, so she thinks of them in waking. The nagging desire to find out what has happened to her only grows with each rise of the sun. “Sokka?” She says quietly.

“Yeah?” “I think that I do need to go back there…”

This time it is Sokka who frowns. “You’re not crazy, Azula, you just…”

She rises her hand to silence him. “I never said that I am. But if I don’t go back there then I won’t find out what happened to me. I need to know and as far as I know, you can’t recant that story.” She tries to gauge his expression. “So I’ll have myself transferred back there and I’ll figure it out. It can’t be too hard to convince everyone that I need to go there again…”

“I don’t like it.”

“Don’t like what?”

“Your plan.”

“Then come up with a better one.”

“Maybe I can come with you?”

“The last I checked, you are perfectly stable.”

“The more time I spend with you, the less true that is.”

“You’re hilarious, Sokka.” She replies flatly.

Though all sarcasm is lost on him, or ignored, when he boldly declares, “humor is my specialty.”

“I’m not looking for humor right now. I’m looking for a plan.”

“And I gave you one. You can get yourself locked up and I can get myself a job as one of the doctors.”  He pauses. “I’d feel a lot safer if you didn’t go in alone. What if they try to wipe your memories again.”

She shrugs and it slips out before she can hold her tongue, “then I won’t have to constantly guess how much of what you say is true.” She cringes at the hurt etched onto his face. “I won’t have to think about that conversation with Toph either.” She tries, but as per usual her delivery saps the humor from her jest.

“I’m trying to help you, you know that right?” Sokka asks. “It’s awfully hard to do that when you keep…”

Azula makes an effort to ignore whatever he is about to accuse her of. “You’re the hardest person that I’ve ever tried to get along with!” He throws his hands up. “And I think that you’re trying to make it hard for people to like you!”

She is in no mood for a fight and yet she can’t bring herself to let him have the last word. “Then just leave me to my plan.”

.oOo.

He rubs his hand over his face. One of them is going to have to concede if they are going to get anywhere and he knows that Azula is too stubbornly proud to give him an inch. He lifts his hands in surrender. “Alright, alright, you win. I’m the jerkbender here.”

“Stop saying that.” She mutters.

“I just...can you just try to trust me. I helped you talk to the rest of the gang, right?”

Azula purses her lips for a moment. “You did, yes.”

“So trust me on this too.” He requests. “You can go looking for answers, but you don’t have to do it alone.”

Azula brushes her finger over the place where pinky had been, he doesn’t know what it says that she would rather look at that than him. Finally she pulls her gaze away from her hand and meets his eyes. “Fine, but we do this…”

“Your way?” I figured as much. “I’ll fill Zuko in.”

Azula nods. “If things don’t go well, you’ll send word to him that it is time for me to come home again.”

“That was part of the plan.” Sokka smiles. At least some of his fears begin to subside. Control is key, if they can keep the situation under their control then it will be well. He can take comfort in that Azula still seems rather apt at doing just that.

He makes off to leave the room, and leave Azula to change into her day clothes. But before he does he turns back. It is more of an impulse than anything, scooping her into a small hug and patting her head. “I’m glad that we didn’t fight today.”

“Yeah.” Azula mutters, her cheeks are a gentle pink.

When he returns to the room with Zuko, he has to take pause and recollect the nature of their plan. Even a full awareness of it doesn’t prepare him for how well she dresses the part. Her hair is tousled, he thinks that she simply hasn’t bothered to comb it. And she wears the outfit that she has dressed herself in, in an unsettlingly  haggard sort of manner. But it is her eyes that throw him off the furthest. She already had a weary look from her sleepless nights, but the bags beneath them were beginning to fade. Now she wears her makeup in a fashion that brings them out and seems to ever so subtly sink her cheeks.

For a startling moment, he almost thinks that she is truly gone again, he can sense Zuko going rigid next to him. His moment of fear comes to an end when she greets them, “have you already arranged a ship?” Her voice is refreshingly smooth and calm.

“Yes, we’ve called for one, they’re expecting you within the hour.” Zuko nods.

“They’re also expecting one brand new, dashingly handsome doctor, appointed by the firelord himself.” Sokka declares.

Azula quirks a brow, “dashingly handsome?”

He elects to ignore her sarcasm once more. “Glad you agree.” He slings an arm around her. Honestly, the twin expressions of entertainment truly serves to drive home that he is working with two cranky siblings. “Oh come on, you guys have to admit that I look dashing in this imperial firebender armor.”

“Dashingly ridiculous.” Azula grumbles.

“Good thing you’re into dashingly ridiculous.”

“Gross.”

.oOo.

The docks are abuzz with fishermen and tradesmen both arriving and departing. Her ship is waiting for her at the very end of the pier, nearly out of sight, just as they like to keep their mentally unsound.

But Azula is seen plain as day right now, and for it she is fixed with many a unkind glares and glowers. Looks that ranged from pity to disgust to complete revulsion. And only for the assumption that she needs help to get herself back on track. She likes to think that they simply remember her for her misdeeds, but she has an inkling that they do have a general aversion to those of questionable mental standing.

Act or not, the princess finds herself feeling somewhat uncomfortable under all of their judging glances and double takes. Apparently it is a source of entertainment to see her being paraded about in study handcuffs. Sturdy as far as they can tell; the cuffs and chains are actually relatively loose around her wrists, a consoling reminder that she isn’t truly being shipped away again.

Another reminder comes in the form of how kind and light, Zuko’s touch is on her back. She almost freats that if someone were to stare for too long, that they’d realize it is all just for show. Sokka’s arm, linked in hers, is a little rougher--carelessly so rather than maliciously.  

As they near the ship, the crowd begins to thin, until only a few stragglers pass them by and they are quick to step out of the way. She thinks that her stance might have grown taunt because, when they find themselves a safe distance from the crowd, Sokka iquires, “you doing okay?”

Azula nods, “well enough, all things considered.”

Zuko squeezes her shoulder. She peers up at him and he gives her a reassuring smile. “Your plans usually always went well for you, if that helps.”

It doesn’t really, not when her mind can’t add meaning to his reassurance. But she nods affirmatively anyhow, lest she deter him from trying to help her when she has only just begun to receive such gestures.

The ship now looms directly in front of them, casting a large shadow over them. She expects a burly, bushy-browed man to emerge from the ship. Instead a rather wirey looking girl with frizzy hair and spectacles greets them. “It is nice to see you again, Zuko. And it is good to see that you have found your sister alive and…” she gives Azula a once over and force the word, “...healthy.” She takes a brief pause before adding, “relatively speaking.”

Azula can’t help but feel faintly annoyed by the remark.

“She’ll be fine, she just needs time. Bozan is usually pretty good at keeping her calm.” Zuko gestures to Sokka. “Which is why it’s crucial to let them speak at least once in the morning and once at night.”

“Noted, your majesty.” The woman dips her head. She draws a needle.

Azula suppresses a flinch.

“Sedation isn’t necessary.” Zuko says perhaps too quickly. “She’s been cooperative, I don’t think that we should risk agitating her.”

She could applauded him for his save.

“If you’re sure.”

“I am.” He says firmly. And to her he says, “good luck, I’ll see you at home when you recover.”

Yes, when she has recovered what she has lost, she adds silently to herself. She gives him no acknowledgement other than a forced snarl. She isn’t entirely sure that the hurt on his face is feigned. It looks rather genuine. Perhaps she is playing the part jarringly well.

The woman’s hand replaces Zuko’s and, Sokka trailing behind, she finds herself climbing the ship’s ramp. They pull it in and steal away any thoughts of back out.

[bellatrixobsessed1]

Marigold Fever (Last Part)

She sleeps for a long while and Sokka is hesitant to leave her. At the very least, her sleep look peaceful. She lays on her back, clutching lightly at the sheets in her sleep. Every now and again she utters a soft cough. He watches her roll onto her side before Zuko beckons him out of the room.

“She probably won’t appreciate waking up and seeing someone staring at her.” Zuko comments upon re-entering the hallway.

Sokka imagines a fistful of fire in his face and nods, “yeah, you’re probably right.” He decides to wander off to his own room. He has to admit that he is still rattled from almost having someone die in his arms. Someone who he is growing fond of at that.

He lays upon his own bed, one arm behind his head and the draped over his middle and stares at the ceiling.  It had been too close a call for him to rest easy. And there is something else. Something he can’t place that bothers him.

Though he isn’t sure that bother is the right word.

He tries to put it out of his mind and think of something more pleasant. Evidently his mind doesn’t leave the slumbering princess. Azula isn’t exactly the sort of person who he’d have thought that he’d find pleasant. Yet, he has grown comforted by her presence and her snide remarks, accompanied by chipper comments from TyLee. Before her health had taken a sharper decline, Azula almost seemed to be in good spirits.  

Perhaps it is bizarre given the circumstances, but it had been nice to hold her so close.

He hopes that she will recover soon.

.oOo.

She doesn’t know what time it is but she does know that it had been early morning when she’d…

Her head is fuzzy and her thinking is still jumbled. Light streams over her face, it is warm and consoling. A tingle prickles in her belly at the thought that she might be dead. Didn’t they say something about light and warmth in dying. She writes that off relatively quickly. She can’t imagine that she’d be seeing the light side of the spirit world, in passing.

She sits up and tries to rid some of the haze in her head. For a moment she holds her position with her head dipping and her eyelids drooping. She thinks that she may fall asleep again.

She must have briefly nodded off because her head is against the pillow once more and the sun is hanging lower in the sky. The rays it casts on her floor have shifted some.

This time, Azula forces herself out of bed. She still feels light-headed and the room sways some. She puts her weight against the wall and waits for the spell to pass. She utters a few coughs, a residual lingering irritation in her throat.

It takes her another cough and a moment to realize that the petals had either withered and shrunken or retracted and disappeared altogether.

She doesn’t feel like wandering back across the room to check the mirror, but she brings her fingers to her neck. It is smooth. Still somewhat swollen, but free of the bulging impression of the vines.

She isn’t one for crippling emotions but it is a fight to keep herself from collapsing in sheer relief. Azula wanders into the hallway with the last of the fog in her brain clearing. It has cleared enough for her to put two and two together and her stomach lurches.

She had anticipated a slow and agonizing death.

She had made plans for that.

She hasn’t made any regarding what she would do if her love were to be reciprocated.   

.oOo.

Sokka frowns, his drawing is not going how he wants it to. His lion-turtle looks more like Appa, but if Appa was having really bad fur day. His skin prickles, at first he can’t place why. He looks up and jolts, nearly toppling his chair.

Azula stands in the doorway, still in her night robe--he supposes that, at this late in the evening, there is no point in her changing out of it. She regards him with languid gold eyes. He doesn’t know what she is doing here but he doesn’t intend on shooing her away.

“What are you drawing?” He can hear the strain in her voice.

Before remembering that he is not satisfied with his art, he pridefully holds up his masterpiece and declares, “it’s a lion-turtle.”

“I hate it.” Azula comments dryly and with all of the social elegance he expects of her.

“Actually, me too.” He admits rubbing the back of his head.

“Can I set it on fire?” She holds her hand out.

Sokka holds it protectively to his chest. “No!”

She laughs, but this only irritates her throat and she is hunched over coughing. The fit passes. It must have depleted what little energy she had left, because the firebender sits herself on the floor.

“Here.” Sokka gets up. He helps her into the chair.  “How are you feeling?”

“I suppose, fine...for having almost died.” She flips the lion-turtle drawing over with a matter-of-fact, “his intense stare was creeping me out. Seriously, can I burn that monstrosity?”

“Kozu didn’t do anything to you.”

Azula crinkles her nose. “Did you really name that thing after my brother?”

He realizes that she has just changed the subject.

“Any more petals?”

Azula shakes her head.

Perhaps he is absently putting the pieces together because it dawns on him that he is probably the first person she visited after waking. And she is in his room, she has sought him out in particular. She has her head down, face buried in her arms.

If the petals are gone then that means…

Does he really love her?

He peers at her, meeting her gaze when she turns her head up.

He thinks that he does.

.oOo.

Azula supposes that she has her victory.

The flowers are gone and she hasn’t had to utter a word of confession.

She is under the impression that Sokka will coax a vocalization out of her anyways. Likely after she has recovered. That is if he can put two and two together. She believes that he already has, he is giving her the stupid lopsided grin.

“Stop that.” She murmurs.

“You like me don’t you?”  

Foolish of her to assume that he would wait. “Less and less every time you speak.”

He wasn’t supposed to smile more. But he does. He isn’t making things any less awkward for her. She longs to avert her gaze, but she holds it. He loses the shit-eating grin and pulls up a chair for himself. “Why didn’t you say something?”

Azula shrugs.

“You said that you would if he was single. I have a whole folder of heartbreak art to prove it.”

Azula shrugs a second time. “Didn’t want to make things weird.”

Sokka blinks. “Spontaneously dying in the middle of the floor kind of makes any situation weird.”

“Yes, well, I’d be dead so I wouldn’t have to deal with any of the awkwardness.”

He laughs. “You’re incredible.” She can’t tell if he means so endearingly or incredulously or some hybrid of the two.

“Yes.” She agrees. Truth be told she also didn’t fancy the idea of rejection. Not after having received it from her father and at one point her uncle, mother, and ex-friends. It still clings to her even with most relationships decently patched up.

But he hasn’t rejected her. She feels her neck again. The vines would still twitch there if he had. Still, she has no idea what to do with that.

He sighs, “you really aren’t good at this romance thing, are you?”

She shakes her head.

“Well good thing that you have found yourself a professional.”

“Zuko told me that he walked in on you with a rose in your mouth and…”

Sokka’s face grows red. “Well that makes two of us!”

She blinks twice. He isn’t wrong. “I didn’t put mine there.” Technically she had though, in some sense.

He knows it too. He stops laughing again. “It’s not as hard as you think.” He flashes her a reassuring grin.

“You’ll find that I’m not the cuddly, clingy sort.”

“That’s the beauty of love!” Sokka sweeps his arms out in a grand arc. “You don’t have to be. For some reason, I like...I love you anyways. I’m kind of tired of clingy anyways. Suki is great, but sometimes a man needs his man time.”

“As long as I never find out exactly what that entails, have at it.” She comments with a wave of her hand. She puts her head back against the table, feeling drowsy all over again.

“Besides,” Sokka continues, “I think that this is rather romantic don’t you think.”

She cocks her head.

“Stumbling upon a heartbroken man doing art.”

Azula rolls her eyes. At this he grows serious again. “What I mean is, I don’t need you to be a Suki. I don’t need you to be fluffy or cuddly. I think that I’d probably hate that actually, it would be a little creepy. I just need you to be…”

“Alive?” Azula fills in.

“That too.” Sokka chuckles. “I just need you to be Azula. Just do what you usually do. I fell in love with that, so...uh...keep doing it I guess.”

She hides her face in her arms, under the guise of not feeling well. At least the fading disease has given her a subtle means of hiding an absurdly flushed face. She can’t recall a time when anyone has said something like that to her.

“Do you want to go back to your room?” He asks. “Your bed is probably more comfy than this desk.”

Azula picks her head back up and then stands up, simultaneously pushing her chair out. She motions for him to follow.

“Do you want me to get you something to eat or drink? You missed lunch.”

Azula nods. “Let Zuzu know that he’s not safe from me yet. I’m still going to kick his ass at kuai ball this summer.”

“I’ll deliver the message.” Sokka promises once they reach her bedroom. He leaves her in the doorway with a parting kiss. She brings her fingers to her lips. She supposes that she hadn’t entirely hated it.

No, she rather liked it.