#anyhows Azula was chilling in the end of the world

[blorboazula]

someone kinda suggested, on discord, that Ursa doesn't try to find Azula in the dragon AU because she's thinks the kid is dead. so:

Zuko 🤝 Ursa: absolutely sure Azula is dead.

Azula: *just chilling in the south pole, living in an abandoned ship and eating fish, ice, and fish*

[bellatrixobsessed1]

To Primordial (Femslash February)

Prompt: Disaster Fandom(s): Avatar & Voltron Pair: AzulaxAcxa Song Rec(s): Raign's Knocking On Heaven's Door (Cover) & Mind.in.a.Box's I Knew

Summary: Thunder rocks the Earth and she know that it is the end of time and life as she knows it. A rift in the spirit energy and balance is tearing the world apart one natural phenomenon at at time. Soon the universes bleed into one another and Azula finds herself falling in love with another world's version of her.

Thunder rocks the Earth and she know that it is the end of time and life as she knows it. A silvery strand of lightning puts a burning tinge in the air. It is more violent and untamed then her lightning would ever be.

A rift in the spirit energy and balance  is tearing the world apart one natural phenomenon at at time. And in their shared demise, the nations are more unified than they ever have been or ever will be.

The rain comes down in painful sheets. Each drop is big enough to have its own weight. And each drop smacks against Azula’s skin with a frightening force. The weather has been steadily growing worse as the days wore on.

The first days had been the worst so far. Devastation was vast and--in some regions--complete. They had all been taken by surprise, rudely awakened in some way or another by the furious rukus of mother nature, unchecked and unapologetic.  

Around what used to be the Air Temples, tornados wreaked havoc. Sometimes three or four at once. The Earth Kingdom was rattled by earthquakes. Ones that topped the walls of Ba Sing Se with more efficiency than the Fire Nation could have ever managed. The poles were bombarded with blizzards so heavy that smaller structures were buried. The polar vortex had been so intense that even the most adapt tribesfolk had frozen in their beds.

Zuko had mourned abundantly when Aang brought news that Katara and Sokka were among them.

She and Zuko, for themselves have no home.

No one in what remained of Capital City did.

The scar Ozai had given Zuko is nothing in comparison to the one mother nature had given him when the volcano their palace was built upon erupted. And it is even more insignificant compared to the damage Azula has taken. She could hardly move. For the first two weeks, Zuko had to do everything for her.

She is lucky to be alive.

And better off dead.

Dead with most everyone else who had lived in the capital. Looking up at its charred carcass sends chills down her spine. Via luck and war balloons, they had put a good distance between the lava flow and themselves.

But no distance seems to take the pungent smell of magma, sulfur, and charred flesh out of her nose. The blacked husk of the palace juts grotesquely out of the volcano like a mammoth rib.

Azula cleans her burns to the best of her ability. Aang and Toph sit nearby. Days before, he had offered to heal her. She supposed that in light of things, old feuds had faded in favor of the preservation of life. For it she had accepted his offer.

That was how they found out that the shredded balance had obliterated bending too.

Now the sky constantly rumbles and pours down thick drops mixed with something vile and goopy. Something that burns and they have only makeshift shelters. Another bolt of lightning blasts a chunk of the volcanoes rim away.

Azula shudders. She has never feared lightning until now.

She has never feared fire until now.

No one has ever feared their own element until the universe turned it against them in full force.

Just what have they done to fracture things this badly.

So badly that the world is fringing at its seams and they are in the middle of it.

She is in the middle of it. She makes her way up the newly maimed volcano. She knows that it is not safe, that the lightning struck most heavily in this area. But she finds that she no longer values life. Does she really have a life at all when her skin is charred about eighty percent, when her days are spent scavenging for food with Zuko, Aang, and Toph? When she dreams of her father melted to the bone and molded to the floor of a prison. When her days are bombarded with the image of TyLee reaching out to her as a flow of lava poured over her.

She looks at her scars and remembers that she has earned them in vain. She hadn’t been able to save Mai nor TyLee. And all she has is a memory of them forgiving her. She would rather have them alive and resenting her than dead and at peace with her.

The closer to the top of the volcano...the closer to home, she gets, the harder it is to breath through ash and smoke. But she is glad that she has made it to the top because the view is splendid.

Destructively divine.

In vivid shades and hues that so starkly contrast the rain that falls. It should be as gloomy up here as it is down there. But it is not. It is sunny and the fat drops of rain don’t splash here. She supposes that this kind of contradiction is the new norm in a world with no balance. And it that way it makes sense that lightning could strike up from the storm churning below.

She looks towards the distance. The sun is setting but the moon is too. Darkness would be total soon. She is ready for another teeth-chattering-ly cold night. The sunset is different, it casts a distinctly orange-red haze over the land.

And for the first time Azula thinks that, maybe it is not just her world that is in a state of disarray. But many of them. They seem to fold in on and leak into one another. She can see it on the horizon, fractures in the sky--little crevices with cities, countrysides, and galaxies tucked into them.

She wonders if it is their world causing the domino effect or if they are simply one of the dominos knocked over by another. She gets the sense that her world was one of multiple perpetrators all working in disharmony to tear life as they know it apart.

She doesn’t know how she survived the night being so bitingly cold as it was. Perhaps it was the lava fragments stuck to her skin, or maybe it was the last of her inner fire. If it was, it is surly gone now, froze right out of her. No, she has no clue how she has survived the night. But when she returns to the bottom of the volcano there are people there.

More of them than before.

Some of them are unlike them with glowing yellow eyes and purple skin. Others look like they might have been carved out of stone; large boulders with glowing eyes and humanoid builds. Others had more human looking eyes but had skin comparable to leaves.

It is these races that should stand out to her the most. But they don’t. Her eye is on the woman with the small horns and the blue skin.

The woman whose face looks so much like her own.

Their worlds have merged.

Their worlds have merged and it gives her a reason to live. She needs to know about this other world. She needs to know if they had any knowledge of what exactly has happened and how to fix it--a stretch; she imagines that they wouldn’t be here if they were able to save their own world.

Even so, the implication that she and other survivors can escape into another parallel world is enough to keep her going.

.oOo.

The woman teaches Azula to read their ruins.

Days ago she had introduced herself as Acxa.

Today, Azula learns that it is a direct translation of her own name.

She wonders who is who. She thinks that Ezor is TyLee, she has the attitude. And Keith reminds her of Zuko. She doesn’t say it. She doesn’t even tell Acxa the translation for her name. Instead she gives out an alternate spelling, replacing the ‘Z’ with an ‘S’ and adding an extra ‘A’ to the end. She doesn’t know what this translates to in Acxa’s mother tongue, but it doesn’t matter.

Acxa teaches her many things, she shows her what a raygun is and how to use it. She picks it up fast, aim is her strong suit. If she lets her mind wander, she can pretend that the blue flashes are beams of lightning.

Acxa also teaches her about their technology and their science.

Azula feels as though she can offer no knowledge of her own, this world is so far advanced. It was anyhow, before it fell.

Acxa sometimes cried in her sleep. Whimpering and calling for Veronica. Azula doesn’t know who this person is, but she thinks that Veronica might be to Acxa what Zirin had been to her.

Tonight she wanders over to Acxa and rubs her hand up and down the woman’s back until she stops crying and begins sleeping more peacefully.

In the morning she talks to Zuko and asks him what he thinks of Keith.

“He seems like a good man.” Is all Zuko says. He talks as little as Azula herself. Come to think of it, people these days don’t have much to say.

They are too haunted.

Too hollow inside.

Aang does the most talking. But most of it is to a man named Hunk. He is a heavier boy with skin of a deeper color than she has ever seen. She hasn’t had a chance to talk to him for herself. She thinks that one day she will have to talk to all of these new people and try to match them up to people from her world.

For now she converses only with Acxa. She inquires about the woman’s dreams but gets only mutter don’t worry’s or not response at all. This version of her has as many walls as Azula herself. She is quieter too.

Another night falls and they have only the dim lights these other-worlders brought with them to cut through the dark. Acxa is crying softly to herself again. So Azula approaches as per routine. If no one would comfort her, then she will comfort take it upon her to comfort herself. At least one version of her will receive affection.

She strokes tangled blue hair until curiosity compels her to graze her fingers over those horns. They aren’t as smooth as they looked, they are more consistent to raw, unpolished obsidian. Her crying stops so Azula turns to crawl back to her own sleeping back. But the woman catches her by the wrist. “What are you doing?” She mumbles sleepily.

“Nothing.”  

She tries to pull her hand away, but Acxa’s grip is stony. She brings Azula’s hand back to her hair. She takes that as her cue to keep petting the woman’s head. She wonders how long Acxa had been awake for. It doesn’t matter, she decides. She is soothed, and that was the goal.

“Who is Veronica?” Azula asks again.

Acxa holds a finger to Azula’s lips and directs her to continue running her fingers through her hair. She looks into those eyes. Those faintly luminescent eyes. She keeps up the motion until her own eyes begin to feel heavy.

When she wakes Acxa is holding her.

Closely and tightly.

And Azula knows that Acxa doesn’t know.

.oOo.

Days turn into months and she has come to decided that Allura was a lot like Katara and that Lance reminded her of Sokka. Ezor has to be TyLee just as surely as Zethrid reminds her of a more destructive Toph. She has not found a Mai yet, perhaps that world’s Mai has perished. Aang, she thinks might be Hunk, but she isn’t as confident in this.

Not nearly as well as she knows that Acxa is definitely a gentler, kinder her. A likable version of her who receives more comfort and love than Azula had initially guessed. Zuko comes to sit next to her, he is one of the few who try to give her solace. No one else knows how to reach Azula, so they don’t try.

No, this isn’t true. Acxa tries to comfort her too.

She always seems to know when something is wrong.

And of course she does.

She knows in the same way that Azula knows when she is in distress.

Acxa sits on the other side and so Azula is in between she and Zuko. “You still getting along with Keith?”

“Very well.” Zuko answers. “He’s a brave man.”

“He is compassionate.” Acxa speaks. “He saved me…”

It makes sense. As much as Azula loathes to admit it, Zuko had saved her.

Zuko gets up, “I’m going to see how Aang is holding up.”

It is dismal to admit that months in, they have hardly adapted to their situation.

Azula still has trouble accepting the scars that mar the better part of her body. This is the distress that Acxa has picked up on. She looks at her raw, burned palms. She supposes that she is lucky she can still use them to the fullest. Though she can no longer gauge hot and cold with them.

“You are unhappy.” Acxa notes.

“Do they bother you?”

“No, I like the people of your world.”

Azula allows herself a short laugh. “Not the people. My scars. Do they bother you?”

Acxa shakes her head. “Not at all. My people like scars. Scars mean that you are strong.” She takes Azula’s hand stroking it with a degree of affection. “I like them.”

It occurs to Azula that one of the reasons Acxa hasn’t picked up on their similar features is because of those scars that she was stroking so lovingly. She hasn’t seen herself in ages, but she imagines that she looks very different now.

Acxa pulls her into a loose hug and pats her head.

It is strikingly reminiscent of how she has treated Acxa. She thinks that Acxa might be picking up on some of her displays of care. The woman has mentioned more than once that human displays of affection are foreign to her.

She doesn’t realize that they are rather foreign to Azula too.

But the hair stroking and head pats do their job.

Acxa knows how to comfort her because she has shown Acxa the exact kind of care she craves for herself. And now she gets it.

The woman wraps her arms around Azula’s middle and presses her lips to the top of her head. Azula doesn’t know where she has learned this. She hadn’t shown it to her. But she doesn’t stop the soft kisses and she doesn’t tell Acxa to stop resting her chin on her head.

It is strange to be so intimate with her, knowing that they are the same person.

It feels so strange, but she wants it so much.

She realizes, with a dull sense of horror, that she is falling in love with herself.

But then, with the world in the state it is, a romance with oneself seems like a much lesser concern.

[bellatrixobsessed1]

The Fishbone and The Firelily (Last Part)

I’m kinda sad to be finished with this one, I had so much fun typing it. But it’s one of those fics that I don’t want to ruin by dragging it out.

With her hand left unmoving, Azula righted herself. She felt tipsy with stress and reprieve, and with a measure of surprise. She supposed that deep down she’d known it for some time between the dizzy spells and the sensitivity among other things. Still she couldn’t see herself as a mother. Couldn’t quite fathom it.

 “So what then, are we free to go?” Sokka asked.

 In answer, Hogoseki crumbled the rocks binding the rest of the group. They tumbled to the ground without a hint of grace. He however, still loomed over the pair leaving Azula to feel increasingly unsettled, wondering just how twisted his sense of mercy was.

 “We’ll show ourselves out.” Azula made off to stand up.

 “Not yet, you won’t.” He countered, coming to block her path.

Sokka wrapped his arm protectively around Azula’s abdomen, her face paled rapidly as Hogseki’s hand snaked out again. She shuddered as his fingers met her forehead. Just like the instances before it, Azula fell back, this time her head hit Sokka’s middle instead of the unforgiving cave floor. She was hit with a wave of disorientation. The princess grew increasingly unable to discern what was left and what was right. Up and down became one and the same. Her head lolled back, overcome by a new sort of numbness.

 “What are you doing to her?” Sokka scowled. He broke his scowl to check on Azula. She was laying quite still, eyes distant as if she was no longer there at all.

 The vertigo gave way to a soothing sense of euphoria. A generous wave of pleasant heat welled in her stomach, ebbing out from her once chilled fire chakra. A tingling sensation worked its way from her middle to the tips of her fingers and toes, and up to her head. The tingles were gentle and a filled in spaces that once felt dead and empty. Azula rolled onto her side, it was a ghost of a motion, one she probably hadn’t realized that she had made.

A burst of heat unfolded and coiled up her spine. The golden fingers of warmth fanned out until they trailed over each of her chi points. Leaving her muscles free of strain and her skin feeling as though it had been kissed by the sun. She wore a look of pure bliss.

 “Azula?” Sokka’s voice cut through.

 “Hmm?” She hummed, in a sort of drunk stupor.

 He felt as if he should leave her to it but inquired anyhow, “are you alright.”

 “Splendid, Sokka.” Her voice held a dreamy quality, that indicated that she wasn’t quite with him. That she was up somewhere on some higher plain. He held lifted her closer to him, initiating within her, a sense of weightlessness. As if she were a part of the breeze and at the same time a single wave in the ocean. And when he set her down it felt as though she’d burst into flames but without the agony of the genuine experience.

 The fingers of spirit energy faded into tendrils of steam that curled over her remaining chi points, coaxing each back to life. An inverse of the last experience they’d been exposed to. She gave a soft sight as the last of the blockage seemed to clear away. With the blockage, the steam dissipated leaving her feeling vaguely celestial and with a sense of power she hadn’t, until then, known before. It showed very noticeably on her face, accentuating her natural glow. Sokka touched the back of his hand to her cheek, finding that the skin below was hot to the touch. Reassuringly so.

 Azula’s sense of euphoria swelled and her head was still fuzzy with it, when she came to.

 The sound of rock grinding against rock signaled the Hogoseki was bending down. “You came all this way to get your bending back, it would be a shame if you didn’t.”

 Azula’s lips parted as she tried to work out what to say. At last she settled for a simple, “why?”

 “As I said many a times, I’m a spirit of my word. You found someone to put before yourself; your bending shall be as it was.”

 She held her hand out, her stomach fluttering with joy as a flash of blue burst from her hand. The feeling of fire in her palm was incomparably sublime. However small the flame was, it was hers. She had missed it so terribly.

 “Don’t push yourself.” The cave guardian cautioned. “If you don’t let your chi points settle they may rupture again.”

 Taking his word for it, she let the flame die out.

 The princess found that the cave spirit was just as reluctant to admit his wrongs as she was. Instead of a kind goodbye he spoke, “now, flee my cave before I change my mind again.” His words didn’t hold the malice they could have.

 Sokka helped her to her feet as Hogoseki fused back into the wall of the heart pool. “Got it?” He asked.

 “I think so.” Azula nodded, truth be told she was still feeling rather misty in consciousness; her senses randomly bombarded by traces of the Spirit World. Her first few steps were clumsy enough for Sokka to decide to toss her arm on his shoulder and escort her to the opening of the passageway.

 “I’ll go first.” Zuko declared, not that anyone wanted to protest.

 Azula followed after him.

 .oOo.

 Sokka’s arm was bruised, swollen, and throbbing—likely broken. He was ashamed to have hindered their quick process. After some time he had come to think that it was a wonder he was able to make it out of the cave at all.

 Azula’s left wrist also seemed puffy, not nearly as terribly as his. He figured that he’d have her it checked out before their ceremony. Other than that, Sokka couldn’t discern how she was taking things. Since leaving the cave, she had grown quiet and he couldn’t imagine why. He anticipated seeing her in a state of impenetrable thrill now that she had fire dancing in her hands once again. And she was, she seemed absolutely delighted. But standing outside the dark of the cave, this delight seemed somehow subdued.  He hoped that it was merely the side effect of the dissolving ecstasy.

 For the second time that day he asked her how she was feeling, only to be met with a shrug. “What’s wrong?” He tried again.

 “Nothing.” She replied. “Just thinking.”

 “Anything good?” Toph asked.

 “Yes.” She said.

 “What are you thinking about?” Sokka pressed. Getting information from her was still like chewing rocks. At times he felt like he’d be able to put a chip in a rock before he got an answer.

 This time Azula gave the answer somewhat quickly, setting her hand back on her tummy. Between his broken arm and the return of his bending, he’d nearly forgotten that news. “I’m not the motherly sort. It took me how long to form an attachment to my own mother?”

 “Long enough for you to know how important it is to form a bond early on.” Sokka set his hand over hers, slowing their strides to a more leisurely pace. “You know to give our child what your parents didn’t you.”

 “Perhaps…” she trailed off. “I’m just glad I chose to come back here when I did. This trip would have never worked if I didn’t.”

 “Yeah, I can’t imagine being stuck in that cave with you and your mood swings.” Sokka shot her a devious smirk. “They were bad enough before you were pregnant.”

 “Thanks, Sokka.” Azula grumbled, though she couldn’t quite dispute the point.

 In the night hours, Sokka found himself calculating just how far along his fiancé was. It couldn’t have been more than a month or two being as she was still so small. He held her close as they snuggled beneath his sleeping bag. Her breaths fell warmly upon his neck, he was happy to see her resting so well…so untroubled. So free of the nightmares that had disturbed her so. He wove his fingers between hers. For the first time since her initial encounter with Hogoseki she seemed to be truly liberated.  His own dreams that night were light and carefree.

He and Azula lie in a field beneath a large black pine. A soft breeze wafted about bringing the scent of daisy and other meadow flowers. It fluttered large swatches of white lace. He didn’t recall tying them to the tree, but all the same he knew that he and Azula had. The grass rolled like waves. Azula spoke to him but he could hear no sound. She looked up and held her hand out, seeming to marshal the rays of the sun. And then he found himself toppling to the ground, tackled by a giggling child.

The girl’s laughter followed him into waking where it blended into Toph’s laughter. Azula was already awake and waiting for him to join her. It would seem that even without painful dreams to rouse her, the woman was simply an early riser.

  (Wedding)

 Sokka could see that Azula was impressed with TyLee’s work. It was a true Fire Nation wedding. The scene was every bit as elaborate as he had expected. The woman had lanterns stung in just about every place one could have them strung from. They hung in various hues of orange, yellow, and red, sporting various patterns ranging from dragons to florals. Florals that so rightfully matched the red petals scattered about the jungle floor. Under the lanterns a host of tables were scattered, decorated with tiny gold dragons, coins, and faux rubies. In their absence, the acrobat had acquired enough carpeting to get from where the tables ended to where the alter began.

 More impressively was the simple elegance of the alter itself. Within the tangle of mangrove roots, TyLee had lined various candles. She’d set them in every groove and atop every root. He also noticed strands of vines and garlands dangling at the entrance.  And where the water met the sand, petals white in color nodded with the waves TyLee had tossed them in.

 Sokka could only hope that his appearance was just as upscale. Unused to Fire Nation attire, especially attire of such prestige, he required assistance in adorning himself in his wedding robes. He couldn’t name a time where he’d worn such costly material. Over the initial robe, was placed a collar of sorts that flared out in the same way most Fire Nation armor did. For the first time in a long while, he wore his hair down, knowing how well Azula fancied it that way.

 From further away he spied the firebender conversing with TyLee. Her hair fashioned into the topknot he was used to, accented by braids he’d never seen on her before that date. All of it held in place by various pins and hair sticks each as sparkling and intricate as the one next to it. She wore a fine garment of white silk, that swept gracefully to the floor. She was the very picture of a Fire Nation bride, save for the accessory fashioned around her neck. The betrothal necklace so heavily contrasted the rest of her outfit—the rest of wedding in general—he was surprised that she hadn’t taken it off. On the contrary, she wore it with enthusiasm.  

 His glance at her met him with a picture of just how grand-scale the event was. In the week or so that they had been gone, their guest list had risen remarkably. Sokka knew that Fire Nation weddings were extensively celebrated, particularly amongst nobility. But it didn’t set in until he laid eyes on the sea of people that filled each and every table and the spaces between. He should have expected it considering just how high Azula’s status was. And this was just the Fire Nation lot; Sokka had his list of guests. Though smaller, a great deal of people had come from the Water Tribes—Gran Gran among them. Everyone from the Southern Water Tribe—small as it was—seemed to be in attendance. He felt suddenly nervous. Azula, however was very much in her element, back at the center of attention.

 Having no father to walk her to the alter, Iroh took on the task. Sokka could see him waiting to preform this duty. Sokka closed his eyes and took a deep breath, he was ready.

 .oOo.

 From her place upon the alter, Azula could pick out a faint white light among the people gathered. It sifted along weightlessly, weaving in and out of the crowd. Among the situations she considered from a heavy rainfall to her father breaking out of prison just to shout his objections, a ghostly interruption wasn’t one of them. The spirit came to stand at the front, now having earned the attention of the rest of the guests. Azula could see it quiet clearly then. He was rather charming, a firebender who looked—despite his true years—to be a few years younger than she. As he drew closer, she came to find that he was a tad smaller in height than she was. And Azula never though herself tall whatsoever.  He was also slimmer, that is to say, he bordered on having no weight at all, no muscle. Regardless of his tiny build, he was a being that emitted a powerful light. A soothing light. A being whose eyes glowed a glimmering  purple. A shade that had become so familiar to Azula that she couldn’t mistake its origin.

 What are you doing here?” She questioned.

 “I assumed I was invited, seeing as this is my jungle.” At this the crowed fell into weary mutters.

 “He kind of has a point.” Sokka whispered.

 Hogoseki took a step forward, as he did so the crowd grew quiet once more. “I’m here to give the two you something. Apology tokens, if you will.” He explained. “Both are very precious and I should like you to care for them well.” He first unhooked the pendant he wore around his neck. “I my Moaki gave this to me long ago, I loved it as well as I loved her.” He fixed the fishbone around Sokka’s neck, deciding that it would suit the Water Tribesman well.

 And before Azula, he opened his palm. From it, in perfect harmony with the setting sun, sprung a small firelily made of pure amber. “This was my gift to my Moaki. I’ve always felt closer to her when holding it the way she did.”

 Azula had a vivid image of the spirit huddled in the corner of his cave cradling the lily, probably after every encounter he had with her, seeking comfort from the crystal flower. She took it carefully into her hands. It was a beautiful thing, he had clearly put much effort into its making.

 “That’s some apology gift.” Sokka mumbled.

 “It’s wonderful.” Azula said.

 “I figured that you’d enjoy them. And I know that you will protect them well. I wish you a marriage as happy as mine once was.” He left little time for gratefulness as he faded away, leaving Azula to conclude that not only was he a spirit of his word, but a spirit of few words in general. At least when out of his cave.

 The gift meant more to her than he would know. It told her once and for all, that she had little to fret over. It brought her deeper serenity and a deeper sense that she was on the right path. The kind of reassurance that she so sought after.

 The Fire Sages came to fill Hogoseki’s place. She turned to face Sokka.

 .oOo.

 The more he stared at the princess in her finery, the less she reminded him of Nokao and the more she reminded him of Moaki, his Moaki. At one he understood why Moaki’s heart had chosen to save the woman. Her hands interlocked with the hands of the Water Tribesman reminded him so much of his son in those blissful days before Nokao showed her true nature. Between the two was so much compassion, so much care. But for the princess and the tribesman, the feelings were genuine, untainted by a malevolent underlying ulterior motive. Were Nokao seemed to reap and steal everything from her lover, the princess had so much to give. There was a sense of satisfaction in observing her marriage; in a way it seemed to make up for what he couldn’t see with his own son.

 Hogoseki knew that he had saved her, it was a harsh and agonizing method—needlessly twisted—but the princess had an unbreakable spirit. He had forced her to suffer so endlessly and she was better for it. He could see it in her eyes that she was truly contented. Truly at peace. He regretted some, that he had made the path so difficult for her. But all the same he wondered if she would be as well currently, if he hadn’t hurt her so.

 He listened to the powerful voice of the Fire Sage as he ran through the vows. The lanterns bobbed about in the breeze, casting the night in a twinkling warm glow. The candles flickered and fluttered upon the tables and within the mangrove. If he didn’t know any better, he would say that the mangrove itself was aglow. The balmy wind came again. A fine night for a wedding indeed. And he began to view the princess in a different way entirely; like a child. His child. A poor father he had been to her, but he felt it all the same.

 In saving her, he realized, he had saved himself. He was free too; free of the darkness that filtered into his soul, the vengeful wrath that consumed him and free of the stone that bound him to that cave. The stone that pained him for the centuries it had clung to him.

 Hogoseki, considered for a moment, staying behind to protect the princess as he had done for his jungle. It didn’t take him long to decide against doing so; if she could hold her own against him, she could defend herself.

No, it was his time now.

 He watched the tribesman speak his last vow. He watched the princess cup the man’s chin in her hand and then press her lips against his. He met her eyes. She smiled at him a look of gratitude with a dash of the pride he had fought so hard to take from her. He realized that this hint of pride was of a more light-hearted playful nature, he supposed it was well to know that he hadn’t scarred her to terribly. To know that she didn’t resent him for how he’d treated her. It made it that much easier to at last go on his way to meet his wife and boy.

 .oOo.

 Despite it all, Azula realized that she would actually miss the spirit. She felt for the firelily under the folds of her robes and looked past the mangrove roots, towards the tip of the mountain. The jungle even in the nighttime seemed brighter somehow.

 Hogoseki’s shackles had been broken, he could finally find his time’s end.

And she could truly begin hers.

[bellatrixobsessed1]

Lacus Vitae (Epilogue)

I also finished the last part while I was at it.

The first night was strange. For one, Azula was unused to the sensation of weight. She had it in the Spirit Realm but not in the same sense that she did as a living being. It was a foreign concept to her. Foreign but welcome, she no longer felt as if her body could be swept out of existence. It was odder still to have her arm back. She was so used to it being gone that she sometimes forgot to use it altogether. She held that arm out in front of her, if for no other reason than to make sure it was still there. That it was real. For a considerable amount of time she just laid upon her bed taking in the sound and feeling of her breathing. A generous inhale through the mouth and a gratifying exhale through the nose. With it she felt the accompanying rhythmic beat of her heart. She smiled and set her hand on her chest, feeling it rise and dip. For a better portion of the day, that was all she thought about—breathing. Zuko was breathing, Mai was breathing, her former servants were breathing, but none of them even paid any mind to it. She wondered how that could be. She wondered how long it would take before she stopped relishing in each one.

After some time Azula wandered over to her nightstand. She truly did intend on simply combing her hair and dressing herself. In the end she found herself distracted again. It has been so long since she'd seen herself. Somehow she still expected to look ravaged and dead. Seeing the color on her lips and the faintest pink hue to her cheeks sent prickles of giddy relief buzzing about her mind. Her arms had regained color too—her entire body maintained the warm hue of the living. She put the lipstick in her hand down and her foundation to the side, content to display her natural shades now that she had them once again. Even if no one else took notice of them, she would.

Her eyes glowed vibrantly, unclouded, and lacking signs of fatigue. She picked up her eyeliner, opting to draw more attention to them. She swept a drape of hair over her shoulder, feeling it fall in a silky, unmatted wave. Azula decided that she would leave it loose.

Overall, she was almost inclined to say that she looked more alive than she had before.

She trailed her fingers along her arms, her skin was soft and unblemished by decay. It no longer felt dry and leathery. Nor did it feel disturbingly cold. Quite the opposite really; Azula savored the warmth that rolled off of her body. The heat that was so befitting of her where the chill was uncanny. She peeled her nightgown off and replaced it with her day clothes.

Azula moved to the balcony and overlooked the Capital for the first time since she'd resurrected. She took in a breath of fresh air—a familiar tang of spice tickled her lungs, reminding her that she truly was home and seeing the city as it should be; well kept, bright, and bustling with people. And most importantly, the only faces she could find rested where they should be—upon the heads of the living. All she had to worry about from the ground were a few potholes that she should pester Zuko to have filled.

As if thinking about him had called him, he stood in the doorframe with some fresh smelling bread. It wasn't until the scent met her nose that she noticed the faint pangs in her stomach. She had forgotten what it was like to feel such. "I thought you might be hungry." Zuko offered.

Azula nodded, "a little bit, yes." She accepted the bread.

"And thirsty?" He asked.

"Very." She put aside the bread for a moment, to relieve her dry throat. She wondered how she had managed to neglect such trivial and obvious obligations. The tea sent a welcomed wave of warmness to her core. She set the cup down, "thank you."

"Any time." He smiled. "Mai's gonna be home soon, I think she's bringing TyLee too. I don't know how I'm going to explain this," he motioned to what Azula assumed was her very presence, "to them." He finished. "I don't know how I'm going to explain it to everyone. People don't just come back from…"

"From death." Azula completed what he couldn't seem to. "I'll figure something out, Zu-Zu." She took another bite of the bread, enjoying the fluffy taste of it on her tongue.

"Alright, I don't doubt that. You always do know what to say and when to say it." He squeezed her arm, reminding her of how deprived she'd been of human contact and how much she longed for it. But she didn't have it in her to ask for more, she wasn't one to get all sappy. "While you do that, I'll have the servants cook up a better meal. I just wanted to give you something to hold you over until breakfast is done."

"Yes, please do." Azula replied, nearly finished with the small loaf. Already her mind was wondering. Searching for the right way to reveal her newly reclaimed lifeforce.

.oOo.

Azula combed her fingers through her decently long locks and bit the inside of her cheek. She liked her hair a lot just as it was. Her fingers worked through the tresses with ease. Even so, she picked up her scissors, knowing that it was for the best.

The truth was, she had become so hyper-focused on getting there, that Azula hadn't considered what to do once alive again. Hadn't considered who to be once alive again. The harsher truth was that the world no longer had a place for Azula. Azula, the princess who was literally dead. Supposed to be anyhow and still thought to be. If she was anybody else, a commoner, she could very well take up her genuine identity. But it wasn't so.

She took the blades to her hair, carefully cutting away at the length she so adored. She watched the strands fall to her feet, a graceful callback to the first time she'd chopped her hair.

The world was not ready for the kind of revelation that Zuko was expecting her to deliver. So she wouldn't do it at all. There was nothing people liked less than having what they have already accepted as the truth, questioned. And she wasn't about to become the embodiment of that. The world already thought her cruel. She would rather live a careful and merciful lie than drop a truth so profound.

Azula was nearly done. She felt out the new length of her hair and began evening it out as exactly as she could. The result was decent. The style looked flattering on her, but would certainly take some getting used to. It was odd to feel the airy draft on her neck as she always had hair to shield it from such.

She finally brought herself to look back at the mirror. The woman in it had hair that rested just below the ears, a dark and groomed sweep of it. She'd left her bangs the same, she need some way to recognize this woman as Azula. She touched her cheek just to make sure that her reflection would do the same.

Now all she had to do was come up with a fitting name and a solid explanation as to how she came to live at the palace and why she was staying.

She gazed again, into the mirror. This time she was lost in thought. Mai and TyLee. The Avatar and his friends. She would meet them again. But this time as Arata. Whoever that would be.