Her mounting shame had compelled her to dismiss the Avatar’s (Aang’s, she corrected herself) concerns for her welfare. It was nothing she couldn't handle herself: bruises, scrapes, burns that were mostly self-inflicted during her little relapse. She couldn’t bear to have him tend her wounds after what he’d already done for her, what she’d already done to him. She’d brushed him off and headed home.
Unfortunately, it was only after she’d nearly reached the isolated pair of treehouses that she saw the flaw in this little plan: Shealtiel would see her. He would see her, and he would fret and insist on trying to tend to her injuries. She’d only just recovered from a relapse, and while she didn’t think she was at any risk of turning thanks to Aang’s intervention, she still refused to risk-
She reaches down and grabs his leg with both hands, wrenching to one side with the unflinching ease of a machine-
That. She refused to risk that. She tried not to think about it as she hurried home. If she simply passed by quickly enough, he wouldn’t have a chance to notice her. She approached the two treehouses slowly, glancing around to make sure that he wasn’t outside, and- having satisfied herself that she was alone out there- she finally crept up the ramp to her house... and that’s when she saw, too late, the movement in the window. Shealtiel’s eyes, wide with concern, met hers.
As soon as they made eye contact, he vanished from the window, and though she forced herself to move faster toward her front door, she already heard him rushing outside behind her.
“Azula?”
She froze at the sheer alarm in his voice, and for a moment, she considered relenting, letting him in. It wouldn’t be his first time tending to her, and to part of her it sounded... appealing... but-
She launches herself at him, lifting him by the neck as she propels him at the wall of her own treehouse with impossible strength-
She took a sharp breath and slipped inside, shutting and locking the door behind her. She heard rushed footsteps and impatient knocking a moment later.
“Azula! I know you can hear me in there.”
She ignored him. Instead, she wiped her hands over her face and moved to the mirror, and she flinched at what she saw. No wonder he’d been so alarmed. She wasn’t surprised that her makeup was ruined, between the fight and the humiliating display of weeping... but that wasn’t the problem. She had cuts and scrapes all along her temple and cheek, and one eye was sporting a truly hideous black ring around it. Her neck and jaw had heavy burns. Her eyelids, too, were an angry red from the fire that had consumed her eyes during the transformation.
“We don’t even have to talk, just let me make sure you’re okay!”
Just ignore it. Just ignore him.
She looked down at herself. Her sleeves had mostly burnt away from the uncontrolled flames of the Noctaere, revealing angry welts and burns down her forearms. Her fingertips were bloody and soiled. One forearm was scraped raw from a particularly sharp impact with the ground, the freshly opened skin nearly reaching the hideous old bite scar on her inner elbow. She should have just let Aang treat it when he offered.
She heard a muffled sound that was either a resigned sigh or a groan of frustration, and she heard Shealtiel stalk away from her door. She released a breath that she didn’t realize that she was holding.
You’ll never deserve him.
She felt the impulse to break the mirror, but restrained it, if only because he would inevitably hear it and be even more worried. She’d just have to find some way to make it up to him later, that was all.
Sooner or later, they all see what you are.
“Shut up,” she muttered out loud. She hastily washed herself up and changed, doing what she could to bandage the cuts and scrapes herself, then dropped into the bed.
She spared a glance at her journal. Looked inside. Shealtiel had already written messages to her. She ignored them and turned the page.
He won’t put up with this forever.
She knew. Spirits, she knew. Instead, she found a different page and wrote a different private message.
Avatar.
No. She crossed it out and tried again.
Aang. I need to ask you a question of a personal nature, and I need to know that what we discuss will never be repeated outside of this conversation.
She didn’t expect the response to be as immediate as it was.
Well. This is about as awkward a conversation as I could be having.
It wasn’t an unfair response- and it wasn't a ‘no.’ She would take it.
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Right Back To This
Date: 2026-02-14 05:08 am (UTC)Unfortunately, it was only after she’d nearly reached the isolated pair of treehouses that she saw the flaw in this little plan: Shealtiel would see her. He would see her, and he would fret and insist on trying to tend to her injuries. She’d only just recovered from a relapse, and while she didn’t think she was at any risk of turning thanks to Aang’s intervention, she still refused to risk-
She reaches down and grabs his leg with both hands, wrenching to one side with the unflinching ease of a machine-
That. She refused to risk that. She tried not to think about it as she hurried home. If she simply passed by quickly enough, he wouldn’t have a chance to notice her. She approached the two treehouses slowly, glancing around to make sure that he wasn’t outside, and- having satisfied herself that she was alone out there- she finally crept up the ramp to her house... and that’s when she saw, too late, the movement in the window. Shealtiel’s eyes, wide with concern, met hers.
As soon as they made eye contact, he vanished from the window, and though she forced herself to move faster toward her front door, she already heard him rushing outside behind her.
“Azula?”
She froze at the sheer alarm in his voice, and for a moment, she considered relenting, letting him in. It wouldn’t be his first time tending to her, and to part of her it sounded... appealing... but-
She launches herself at him, lifting him by the neck as she propels him at the wall of her own treehouse with impossible strength-
She took a sharp breath and slipped inside, shutting and locking the door behind her. She heard rushed footsteps and impatient knocking a moment later.
“Azula! I know you can hear me in there.”
She ignored him. Instead, she wiped her hands over her face and moved to the mirror, and she flinched at what she saw. No wonder he’d been so alarmed. She wasn’t surprised that her makeup was ruined, between the fight and the humiliating display of weeping... but that wasn’t the problem. She had cuts and scrapes all along her temple and cheek, and one eye was sporting a truly hideous black ring around it. Her neck and jaw had heavy burns. Her eyelids, too, were an angry red from the fire that had consumed her eyes during the transformation.
“We don’t even have to talk, just let me make sure you’re okay!”
Just ignore it. Just ignore him.
She looked down at herself. Her sleeves had mostly burnt away from the uncontrolled flames of the Noctaere, revealing angry welts and burns down her forearms. Her fingertips were bloody and soiled. One forearm was scraped raw from a particularly sharp impact with the ground, the freshly opened skin nearly reaching the hideous old bite scar on her inner elbow. She should have just let Aang treat it when he offered.
She heard a muffled sound that was either a resigned sigh or a groan of frustration, and she heard Shealtiel stalk away from her door. She released a breath that she didn’t realize that she was holding.
You’ll never deserve him.
She felt the impulse to break the mirror, but restrained it, if only because he would inevitably hear it and be even more worried. She’d just have to find some way to make it up to him later, that was all.
Sooner or later, they all see what you are.
“Shut up,” she muttered out loud. She hastily washed herself up and changed, doing what she could to bandage the cuts and scrapes herself, then dropped into the bed.
She spared a glance at her journal. Looked inside. Shealtiel had already written messages to her. She ignored them and turned the page.
He won’t put up with this forever.
She knew. Spirits, she knew. Instead, she found a different page and wrote a different private message.
Avatar.
No. She crossed it out and tried again.
Aang. I need to ask you a question of a personal nature, and I need to know that what we discuss will never be repeated outside of this conversation.
She didn’t expect the response to be as immediate as it was.
Well. This is about as awkward a conversation as I could be having.
It wasn’t an unfair response- and it wasn't a ‘no.’ She would take it.