songerein | [December Catch-All] In the lane, snow is glistening...

...When you put it like that, I guess it does sound kind of bad.

( Shealtiel moves so that Azula can enter, moving his hands from behind his back to gesture for her to go inside. His place is less of a mess than usual, though there are still a few scattered things here and there. Alcohol, take out food... )

I was confined for a while, too. When... did you have to deal with it?

[She's giving the mess a critical eye, but at least it's better than last time. Once she's inside, she begins gently rubbing her hands together, and light steam sizzles from the remnants of melted snow as she warms them gently.

There. Better already.]

My brother. We fought for the crown. He won, and he committed me to a wretched asylum. It took me over a year and a half to escape.

[It sounds bitter, but after a moment, she admits-]

...he meant it to be kind.

["I've asked the palace staff to prepare your rooms."

Even then. Even after she'd-

She sighs, lowers her warm hands, and summons the neutral smirk again.]

The weak, ridiculous fool.

What?

( Asylum? Kind? Shealtiel can't help but react to that more outwardly than he originally meant, stopping in his tracks to turn and stare. But he shifts after a moment, flopping into a seat on one side of the couch. He's not especially bothered by the cold, but even he feels chilly after that brief step outside. A glance out the window tells him that the snow is only falling harder, too.

He turns his gaze back on Azula. )

I don't get your brother. What kind of twisted way is committing someone to an asylum kind?

[As soon as he says it, the neutral smirk vanishes, and she rounds on him.]

Don't be stupid. You know what I'm capable of.

[She's surprised by how vehemently the retort comes out, harsh and snapping, defensive. After a moment, she shrinks back a little- she almost looks ashamed, and it's deeply alien on her face.]

I wouldn't have been that kind. If I'd won.

( He freezes for a moment, hesitant. The chill seems to set in even more because of it, and he folds his arms. )

I heard about those places while I was kept in the church. They just sounded like torture to me. What does it matter what you're capable of?

It was the most miserable experience of my life. The food alone was the stuff of nightmares.

[She says it with a dissonant smirk on her face, as if it was a terribly amusing joke. After a moment, the smirk fades, and glares darkly out of the window.]

...the fool truly hoped they would help me there.

[As if anything could help her.]

( For a while, Shealtiel is quiet. He decides to stare out the window, too, after a long look at Azula. Help, huh? When it was that miserable? He doesn't get it. He doesn't get how confining someone anywhere is supposed to help, or supposed to be a sign of someone caring. Wouldn't it be better to give someone the encouragement to help themselves? To give them space, or tools, or words, or company? Not leave them alone somewhere and call it done?

Feeling colder by the minute, he folds his hands together in his lap, his right hand wringing at his scarred left one. )

Maybe I just don't understand how family works.

( He doesn't get it. It bothers him, troubles him, makes him think of his own abandonment at the church. Of the way the nuns "helped" him by cutting out the evil parts of him, forcing him to drink vile potions that ate at his demon half, and slicing at the dark wings and the skin around them. It feels like that.

Does it help to have family doing things like that? Is it any different from having no family at all? )

...Sorry. I didn't mean to belittle whatever you went through.

Oh, don't be pathetic.

[She sighs and sinks into the nearest seat, then summons the smirk again and turns to face him.]

... I told you before that my family drama was tedious.

I like hearing about it, though.

( There's a pause, and as Shealtiel realizes how that sounds, he stiffens, turning back from the window to Azula. His hands lift, defensive. )

I mean, like... Not that it's entertainment to me or anything!

( God, he's so bad at this. He's just trying to say he likes learning about Azula. )

I know what you meant.

[Ugh. She narrows her eyes a bit at his sudden placating attitude, but- well, she's not going to give him a hard time about it right now, considering the sensitivity of the subject matter. And... well, they were already discussing something.]

I tried to kill him.

[She supposes she might as well just say it.]

Many times. More than I can-

[She averts her gaze.]

We've always been enemies.

( As they talk, the storm outside picks up, snow covering up the work Azula had done with quick ease. Shealtiel has relaxed a little more, subconsciously leaning a little closer to her as they sit on the couch. )

Why?

[She doesn't seem to notice the sudden proximity, instead looking out at the window as she snow comes down harder. For a moment, she's inclined to go out and resume the futile battle against it, but... oddly, she's less bothered by the idea of being snowed in than she was before she started working.]

Because he's a nauseating sentimentalist and a foolish weakling. And I'm a m-

[... Shealtiel, she recalls, was not typically impressed by that suggestion. She bites back on the word before it can escape her lips.]

Even though he was the eldest- the heir- I was always better than him. Father encouraged it. Rewarded me for it. Made him fight to keep up with me, to demonstrate strength and ruthlessness. It never came as naturally to him.

( The man... Shealtiel remembers him. Or the image of him, at least, from that incident before. He hadn't liked the feelings he got from looking at him at all, and hearing about this makes him like him even less. )

It sounds like he was manipulating you both.

( He folds his hands together in front of himself, arms resting on his own legs. )

Of course he was. He never denied it.

[There's a thread of... not quite defensiveness, but close enough to it, when she says that.]

He was raising heirs to his throne, coddling us would have been a waste of his time and our talents.

You don't think there could have been a middle ground?

( Hm. The more he thinks about it, the less he likes it. He understands Azula's points too, sure, but... There's a lot of space between total manipulation to the point of making siblings want to kill each other, and raising total weenies. )

And... did you want to become the heir? Do you?

Of course I-

[... She realizes, even as she's saying it, that it's a lie. She hasn't wanted that in a long time. Maybe even before she came to the city. She doesn't know what she wants.]

I wanted to, then. It was all I cared about. Being deemed worthy. Carrying on Father's legacy. I deserved it. I'd done everything I was supposed to.

[It feels so empty now, and she can't even articulate why.]

But you don't want it anymore?

( The question is rhetorical, mostly. That's the impression he gets from Azula's words. )

It was what he wanted you to care about, after all. I'm sure you had desires yourself, but having someone close to you constantly trying to push for it...

It makes sense if you had to think about it more. Or if it just feels empty, now.

( It almost reminds him of how defensive he'd been when being referred to as anything less than an angel. He's still on the fence... But it's tipping. )

['What he wanted you to care about.'

Those words stick in her mind, and she scowls out the window at the snow.]

All I desired was power. It's what I am. You know that.

[And yet again, it feels like a lie even as she said it. Ugh. Why was this discussion so... strangely alien? Like there was something she still couldn't understand, something she was still lying about when she wasn't even trying to lie anymore.]

... Now, I suppose I've just accepted that my destiny lies elsewhere.

( It's not what she is. Not only that. He wants to debate it, to yell praise and his own thoughts of her, but something clenching in his chest makes him hesitate. She says more, anyway, and he tucks those feelings back.

Destiny... It's better hearing that. )

Do you know what you want to do now? I, uh... I still haven't figured out that kind of thing for myself.

( What he wants to do. Where he should fit. What his destiny might be. If he's angel or demon or something hideous and in between, unliked by both. He unfolds his hands, resting them on the couch next to himself, curling his fingers into the fabric. )

I-

[She immediately thinks of the night of the Noctaere incident. Of the confrontation with Zuko. Of how she'd tried to force him to-]

I don't know.

[She suddenly lowers her eyes again- idly distracting herself by focusing on the hand next to hers on the couch, her next breath faltering slightly.]

There's nothing left for me to pursue. The throne was all I had.

( This is difficult. On the one hand, he feels like he can relate to some aspects of what Azula must be feeling here. Lost, empty, like there's nowhere to even look because your whole life was focused on this One Thing that doesn't even apply to you anymore, that can't even welcome you...

He would have snapped at others offering their hands. He did snap. At Luci... Just when they'd started to get along, he'd scared him off. Now, it might be that even he's abandoned him.

He doesn't want to do that to Azula. To push her into a corner and make her feel like he's going to obnoxiously offer his help or unwanted opinions. At the same time, though, aren't there some things that are nice to hear? To know? His fingers twitch slightly closer to Azula's, barely an inch, and the snow falls hard and quiet outside. )

I... don't think you have to figure it out right away.

( His voice is gentle, but not hesitant. He's not afraid to speak, but he's choosing his words carefully for the sake of making sure he's understood correctly. )

You're intelligent, you're talented, and you're more than you give yourself credit for. You could do just about anything. But, for a variety of reasons, you weren't able to look around or consider anything but the throne.

Now you can. So, I think, at least... that you can take it one step at a time and focus on what's around you. Maybe, sometimes, you don't have to be pursuing something.

What's around me isn't-

[... She almost says real, but something about that- sure, technically, this is a dream world. But it's real enough, realer than her memories of the years before she came here at least. And- somehow saying that about Shealtiel, in particular, makes something stick in her throat.]

... You don't have to worry about it. As you said, I'm intelligent. I'll think of something.

[And that feeling- as if she's lying to him somehow, even though she can't say how.]

And I've resigned myself, at least, to not pursuing an ambition while I'm here.

[Not after what happened with the Dreamotion.]

Maybe we can... think of our own stuff together?

( It sounds stupid, he worries, when it comes out. But he keeps his hands in place even as he lifts his head a little more. )

Paradiso doesn't want me, Inferno definitely wouldn't want me, and the one guy who said he'd put in a good word for me got super mad at me. I don't want to depend on him, anyway. I want to figure it out myself. Where I can go...

I know what it's like to have someone in your business, trying to tell you what to do. I don't want to do that. But... I also know it can feel kind of lonely trying to work through it yourself.

So, you know, if you want... We can just talk about it together sometimes.

[Hrmph. Her immediate impulse is to insist that Paradiso isn't worthy of him, from all that she's seen and heard- but that line of discussion tends to annoy him.

Of course, the momentary restraint just leaves her a few moments to consider what he's suggesting. And- well, what he's suggesting is... oddly open, for him. More so than she's used to. Then again, she's been more open with him than she's used to, as well. And, as usual, he's been nothing but-

'You'll never deserve him. Never.']

Well, it seems we'll have the time. I'm fairly certain we're snowed in now.

[Not that she's changing the subject or anything, but she's absolutely changing the subject.]

Oh—

( The change makes him pull his hand back and up, away from where he'd been inching closer, nervous. Shealtiel's eyes shoot to the window, and he finally actually registers the sight. Snow, falling down in large, soft chunks, and piling up quickly. )

Wow, it's really coming down. They weren't kidding.

( Guess they are stuck. Which... has his heart racing, oddly, and he stands up to try and alleviate that feeling, moving to peer out the window more directly. )

Guess you're stuck with me.

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cw for some brief mention of child abuse

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