#azucho

She can feel it in her throat, it is an itch like she had swallowed a living fly. Now apprehension takes the place of longing. And it doesn’t make sense. It doesn’t make sense to have yearned so relentlessly to speak, only to find herself completely tongue tied for the first time in her life. For all of the words that she wants to speak, she can’t seem to grasp onto any of them.

What if her voice no longer sounds  lovely when it comes from her own body. The spirit could tweak and shape her voice in the most pleasant ways, work it into a crystalline smoothness that she isn’t sure she can manage anymore.

“Go on, say something.” Zuko urges.

She sifts in her mind for something worthwhile to say. Perhaps it would do her well to thank the spirit for giving her, her voice back. Maybe she should take the easy route and ask him what she should say. But she isn’t sure that she wants to speak anything more than a single word.

She reaches for her waterskin and has a generous sip, the water is pleasant on her throat.  “Seicho…” She finally manages. Her voice is softer than she remembers, significantly breathiter.

She isn’t sure how she feel about it. Isn’t sure that she wants to hear it a second time. But Seicho beams at her. She presses her fingers to her throat, feeling faint vibrations run up and down it as she repeats the woman’s name.

“You have a pretty voice.” Seicho notes. “It’s really...relaxing.”

She clears her throat, “thank you.” But her voice is still rather husky. She absently brushes her fingers over the parchment, they are shaking slightly and she can’t say why. She should be elated rather than apprehensive. She looks towards the spirit.

It regards her silently, coldly. She really ought to thank it if she knows what is good for her. She reaches for the parchment and her brushes and writes a quick thank you. She is growing increasingly uncomfortable under the gazes of all of the smaller spirits. She feels as though they are poised to attack her at any minute.

“Why are you still using the parchment?” Mai quirks a brow.

Azula offers only a shrug as she moves to stand closer to Seicho and Zhang-Zin. The spirit closes the distance just as quickly. She supposes that it wouldn’t be a spirit encounter if she wasn’t left with some lesson or warning. She thinks that her last visit had been the lesson, and she is fairly certain that she has learned it well enough. At the very least, she is decently afraid to speak malevolently. She wonders if she should speak at all, lest she lose her voice again. And so she finds herself a new paradox.

She decides that she will speak minimally; her vocal cords feel so taut that she isn’t sure she has a choice regardless…

The spirit lowers itself to eye level. With hers no longer shimmering upon the base of its throat, the voice that takes dominance over the others is thundering and feminine. Wrapped around it are lighter voices like ocean waves and rustling leaves. It’s warning is quite simple, efficiently so. “Speak carefully.”

Azula supposes that, that shouldn’t be a problem, she has always cultivated her words choice with tedious thinking. As though every sentence could be her last. As though every word could be her ruin. With Ozai’s sharp ear, any wrong word could have been her downfall.

Perhaps she ought to live her life in silence afterall, it is easier knowing that the choice is hers.

Seicho takes her hand as she gives the spirit a nod. She holds out her arm, the one that Seicho is holding and gestures to the bitemarks. She suppose that now is as good a time as any to test out new tones and inflections. “Tell them to stop?” But she falls short--the pitch isn’t right. Her lower lip trembles.

Agni, it has been so long since she has put laryngeal muscles to use that they seem to have gone useless. She has missed her chance to speak with feeling. She has been forced into tonelessness when she could most benefit from expression.

The spirit doesn’t humor her with an answer. Its wisps break apart and disperse like scintalling flutterbats back into the canopy and under the rocks. The smaller spirits swoop down and close in. “Let’s get out of here, they’re starting to freak me out.” Zhang-Zin shudders.

.oOo.

Every now and then a spirit tugs at Azula’s hair and Seicho finds herself swatting it away. Perhaps the misdeed will come back and catch up with her, but she can sense that the princess is sinking again. Anxiousness and anger have given way to weariness and confliction, she can see it in the woman’s tired eyes. And with those tired eyes, Azula watches another spirit hiss and flit away. At least a small flicker of relief appears in them.

They have been trekking for almost half of the day and thus far, “tell them to stop” has been the last of her vocalization.

“I can have Katara try to heal your vocal cords.” Zuko offers.

Azula returns his offer with only a nod, albeit an affirmative one.

Healing… It dawns upon her, a reason for the reluctance, “does it hurt to talk?”

And Azula finally speaks again, “I--no...I don’t think so.”

“Then what’s the problem?” Mai asks.

“Do you not like how your voice sounds?” Seicho guesses. “It’s a little hoarse, but it’s still nice to listen to.” She promises. And that is an understatement, really she thinks that she could listen to that voice for hours.

.oOo.

It isn’t that so much as it is that there is too much to say and too many people to say things to. Really, she should have settled for that one I love you. She rubs her hands over her face, she hates herself for even thinking so weak mindedly. What she should do is speak until her voice finds its strength again. What she should do is speak regardless.

And yet she finds herself as mute as ever and, suddenly, with less to say than ever. ‘I don’t know what’s wrong with me.’ She writes upon the parchment.

Her whole body feels heavy with self manifested helplessness. It shouldn’t be so hard to just talk. She finds herself touching her tongue, cringing at the earthly mossy taste that taints her fingers. She doesn’t think that the scarring on her tongue is so obstructive as to impede her speech. The blockage comes from her mind, her mind and her underused vocal cords.

“You just have to get used to talking again. That’s all.” Seicho smiles.

She wants to believe her, she wishes that she could. But it grows harder to do so as the days wear on without being able to muster up a word. She knows that she is only making her condition worse by leaving her laryngeal muscle to rust.

She decides that she will make a habit of saying at least one thing a night. She doesn’t know what that thing will be. Not until they bring their hiking to a halt for the night. Like clockwork, Zuko asks if she is still feeling okay. And like clockwork she nods her head. She supposes that she is feeling as well as she can.

At least now she can take comfort in that healing is an option should she work up the courage to take it. At least now, with every time he asks, she can find herself reassured that she doesn’t have to work through her barriers alone.

She helps Mai cook their hunt over a flame that pleasantly warms her face.  “I don’t have a problem with you talking.” The woman sighs. “If that’s the problem.”

And on the parchment she writes, “it isn’t.” Though a small pang of relief has her thinking otherwise. At the very least it takes some pressure away to know that her voice isn’t unwelcomed.

She passes a strip of meat to Zhan-Zin and then busies herself with her own. She makes her way back to her sleeping bag and bundles herself up as tightly as possible, leaving as little room for the spirits as she can--though they haven’t been bothering her as much lately. She thinks that they are finally growing to accept that she isn’t a particularly antagonistic force.

“Mind if I join you?”  Seicho asks.

She looks about the camp and makes a vague gesture towards Zuko and Zhang-Zin. Seicho laughs, “they’ll get over it.”

Azula unzips the sleeping bag and lets Seicho crawl in. The woman wiggles in close and presses her forehead to Azula’s. She closes her eyes and she feels a small kiss upon her nose. “Good night, Azula.” Azula puts her arm around the woman.

The girl had found her in the corner, jittery and anxious. Alone and pursued all at once. No one wants to talk to her, but everyone wants to stare at her. After several social blunders she has become the party’s central spectacle. She has become something of a party game herself.

Several comments in, she is inclined to say that Zuko had made the right call in leaving the party with the slam of a door. And Mai had made the right move in following him out nearly ten minutes after. She can’t find TyLee and she wishes that she had followed Mai out.

Their remarks aren’t exactly hushed; she knows now that she is a freak, a fuckin’ weirdo, and a creep with atrochious pickup lines among other things. She is nearly certain that, that last one had come from Chan himself.

She is damn sure that he has told everyone that she has been stalking around all night. That she can’t take rejection and had taken to following him all around the party after he was ‘generous’ enough to let her kiss him.

She has been tucked away into this corner since the kiss. She had thought to remain on the balcony until everyone else made their way back onto the beach. She should have. At least this way she wouldn’t have to hear them talking. She knows that she has made several mistakes tonight and the first of them had been letting everyone think that she is anything but above them.  She wishes that she could reassure herself that she is superior in most every way.  She thinks of pridefully reminding them of who she is but she doesn’t have much pride in her right now and she isn’t sure that she wants her impeccable image tarnished. And even if that weren’t the case, tonight she doesn’t particularly feel like a princess.

“Maybe you should leave Chan alone and go home.” Ruon Jian remarks. She knows what he is doing and he knows just as well. He is going to make a spectacle of the both of them and she is torn between standing her ground as she always does and making a retreat like Zuzu and Mai.

“Perhaps Chan should stop pining for me.” She mutters.

“You think that he’s pining for you?”

“He certainly can’t keep me off of his tongue.”

“Because you keep cramming it down his throat.” His remark earns approving laughter and a murmur of agreement.

She cringes and her grip on her cup tightens. She clears her throat, “I meant that he can’t seem to stop talking about me.”

“Yeah, because you’ve been making moves all night and he’s getting tired of it.” He sneers.

“He volunteered to give me a tour of the house. He extended the offer.” Her grip tightens further. She thinks of perhaps burning them all to ashes. At the very least she thinks of peeling herself away from the wall and finding Chan. She could make an example of him. Instead she finds herself sweeping the crowd for TyLee. She wonders if the girl had left too. Even TyLee has her limits as far as attention goes.

Ruon-Jian’s brow crinkles, “why would he do that.”

“Because he…” what? Thinks that she’s ‘pretty’.

“Or maybe it’s because you intruded on his real date. Right, Seicho.”

Heads turn from her to another girl. To Seicho. To the girl who she...passed her drink to. She is thankful for the lapse in attention, for her face is a very vivid shade of scarlet. She braces herself for another cutting remark and tries to come up with possible ways to rebuff it. But her sharp mind has gone blunt. She doesn’t have any experiences to draw upon. Not tools at her disposal.

“It wasn’t a date.” Seicho says. “I was trying to get him to leave. Your friend can’t take a hint and he can’t take rejection. I was relieved when she came along.” The girl nods towards Azula with a shrug. “Unfortunately things didn’t work out and Chan went back to stalking me.”

“Chan…”

“Has no room to call anyone a creep.” Seicho gives a dismissive wave as she makes her way across the now silent room.

“You’re lucky that I even invited you to this party, Sei! You’re a nobody. You wouldn’t have even had a chance if it weren’t for me.”  Chan declares.

Seicho makes a point of saying nothing at all. Instead she finds Azula in the corner. Azula wishes that she wouldn’t have. She had been nearly done with her unnoticed escape and now they are all staring at her again. At she and Seicho.

“You should be thankful that I’d hit on you even though I know what you looked like last year.”  Chan turns to the crowd. “Remember last year, guys.”  There is another rumble of laughter and now Seicho’s face is red.

“Come on, let’s go.” Her hand is on Azula’s shoulder.

“I have to find my...TyLee.”

“The cute one with the wide eyes and the braid?”

Azula nods.

“She left before ‘loser boy’ did.” She pauses. “Congrats, you’re the last one standing in your crew.”

Azula can only manage a sputter. The audacity they have to leave her here on her own! At least TyLee probably assumed that she’d have Zuko and Mai. Her anger dies away, Zuko and Mai probably assumed that TyLee is still here. But they haven’t come back for her yet. She permits Seicho to lead her to the front door.

“Later fatass!” Ruon remarks. Azula hears the slap of a high-five.

Seicho’s footfalls become plenty more purposeful.  “It was a stupid party anyways! I knew I shouldn’t have come. Rin told me that I should have just stayed home and played Pai Sho with she and her brother.” She laments. Azula doesn’t think that she is talking to her but she listens anyways. “I could have had a nice night. We could have got some ice cream and went for a walk on the beach. Instead I let Chan pester me all night…”

“Yes, it was a dreadful party. I have been to better ones.” This is a lie. Unless the formal palace dinners counted.

“I guess that I should thank you for rescuing me from him, even if it was only for an hour.”  She laughs.

Azula nods.

“Do you want to find your friends?”

“I know where they are.” She beckons for Seicho to follow.

.oOo.

She finds that the fire is much more pleasant than the party ever could be. If Zuzu, Mai, and TyLee have any qualms about Seicho being there, they don’t vocalize them. In fact, they seem to rather enjoy her company.

She is charming and witty and for every overly dramatic thing that any of them monologue, she has a sly remark. Azula isn’t sure that the other three care much for it, but she finds it quite amusing. Doubly so when the girl quips about her own story. She waits until each of them has said their piece to say anything truly profound.

Frankly, it takes the princess aback. She tells Zuko that it would do him will to forgive himself, that no one else will if he can’t. She tells TyLee that she is more than a pretty face--she must be if she was smart enough to get the hell out of Chan’s party as soon as she did. She tells Mai that it is more than okay to be more reserved, that the world can’t always be loud and spunky.

And where no one else has anything to offer her, Seicho tells her that she doesn’t think that she is a monster. “I don’t know anything about your mom or your family. I won’t pretend to. But I don’t think that you’re a monster.”

And somehow that is enough for Azula It might be because she knows that at least one person doesn’t think that she is. It might be because, for much of the night she has felt far less than human; a human can communicate with other humans where a monster can only make garbled and uncanny attempts to impersonate human speech.

Maybe she doesn’t look reassured enough because Seicho slings an arm around her and pulls her closer. For the first time that night, she does feel human. She feels like she is allowed to feel human. She swallows hard. She is allowed to be venerable and she is scared of vulnerability all the same.

Seicho rubs her arm.  

“What about you?” She inquiries. “What’s your sob story? You don’t get a free pass.”

Seicho shrugs, “there isn’t much to say really. Everyone on this beach knows that I’m a loser.”

Zuko scoffs, likely thinking of Ruon-Jian again.

“I don’t think that.” TyLee smiles.

“You would if you saw me last year.”

“Eh.” Mai waves her hand. “I wouldn’t mind, I’m surrounded by losers.”

Azula isn’t sure which of them exclaims, “hey!” first. Though it is nice to hear Mai chuckle, even if it is only a small one.

.oOo.

Mai and Zuko wander off first, keen on some alone time. Trekking along the beach. TyLee turns in soon after, declaring that she’d like to sort out her new shell collection before bed. So it is just she and Seicho once more.

Azula doesn't think that she minds this all too much. She finds it easier to settle into the woman’s arms. Dimly she thinks that she ought to be the one doing the holding. But for now she is content to be held.

Seicho doesn’t speak, she simply runs a hand through Azula’s locks. It feels infinitely better than Chan’s half hearted joke of a kiss. Seicho is soothing. Seicho is easy to be around. It doesn’t feel so fake.

“The fire is getting low.” Seicho remarks.

Azula moves to light it again. “Better.”

Seicho nods. “The crackling adds a little something, don’t cha think?”

Azula gives a nod of her own. It is nice amid the crashing of the waves and the rustling of palm fronds.

“This is relaxing. Honestly, it’s much better than that ridiculous party.”

She is setting the bar rather low, but Azula understands the point. “Indeed.”