ATLA/LOK Fem Imagines

What Goes Around Gotta Come Right Back - Azula

Trigger Warning: Abandonment, Mental Illness, Mentions of Death and Kidnapping, and Drug Usage. This is also quite long, so sorry in advance.

The former Princess huffs, ducking under branches and pushing away at leaves. She's been on the run for a few months now, refusing to be held at the physic ward. As of now, Azula remains undetected. No one has spotted her since she first made a break for it.

The firebender's lips tug into a prideful smirk, finding an abandoned tree house propped up between two ginormous branches. She's been wandering the dense forest for about an hour now. Azula's searching for a place to settle in for the night.

She saunters over to the ladder leading to the treehouse. The climb takes a bit longer than she hoped, as the shelter is pretty high up in the tree. Azula's lucky she even spotted the house through the forest's camouflages of greens and yellows.

She slips through the opening, shutting the makeshift door behind her. Whoever was here last left in a hurry. The place is practically trashed: blankets with tears left behind and a sturdy-looking mattress shoved into the corner of the shelter.

The treehouse is pretty big and seems to be well built. Azula's sure she can make a home of it for a while before she has to travel again.

The prodigy walks through the home, surprised she can even stand up straight in the building. She moves deeper into the shelter, observing the uncharted territory calculatingly. Her eyes wander over to the mattress, noticing a bundle of blankets wrapped around something.

She sighs, securing her bag around her back before stepping closer to the pile of fabric. Her golden eyes widen, pupils contracting as she jumps back in shock.

The bundle starts to make noises, human noises.

The teen prepares herself, roughly tugging at the end of the blanket. She makes no audible sounds of astonishment, just staring at the creature. Who would leave a child unattended like this, especially so young? The child's skin is sickly white, resembling death itself. She seems to be very malnourished, skin practically attached to nothing but bone.

The young child barely moves an inch, but Azula can tell they're cold by the slight shivering. Unprepared for this type of situation, the bender quickly throws the blankets back on over the child, clicking her tongue in a tsk before heading towards the ladder.

She manages to get within 3 feet of the ladder before stopping dead in her tracks, unwilling to move.

"Wait, Mama." A sweet raspy voice calls out.

Azula raises her fingers to the bride of her nose, thinking to herself, "Great, now she thinks I'm her mother."

Despite feeling uncertain, she doesn't have the heart to tell the child they're wrong. The poor girl is suffering through her last couple of days, and her parents clearly abandoned her. Who knows how long she's been here without food or water?

"Yes, my child." Azula plays along after talking herself into it begrudgingly.

The small child coughs slightly, throat sore from barely talking the past couple of days, and dry from lack of hydration.

"Water."

Azula reluctantly turns to face the little girl, debating whether she should give the child her last bit of rations. Everything in her whole body screams to not get involved, but something within forces her to stay.

Azula lowers the bag from her back, opens the sack, and rummages for her flask. She pulls the metal container out, shaking it back and forth to check how much is left. She's sure she saw a river a few paces back. If anything, she can make a refill later.