Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar the Last Airbender.

Free

I'm not crazy.

Wild eyes flash between metal bars.

I'm not crazy.

Pained screams echo off stone walls.

I'm not crazy.

Large tears fall on a cold floor, followed by a blast of enraged blue fire.

"Give it up, Crazula!"

Crazula. Her so-called guards were the first to call her that bitter name, and now even the Fire Nation children mock her with it when they catch a glimpse of her invisible children wither under her glare. Traitors, every one of them. They would all die. Traitors deserved nothing more.

They had told her that she was to be sent to an asylum, but this place, with its hard walls and metal all around, is a cage. Her shackled wrists and ankles make bending difficult, but not impossible, and straining against her chains, Azula unleashes another blast at the double-thick steel door. Like the bars on her window, it remains unmoved.

It does not matter, this small setback. She will be free. The voices had promised.

The voices…

A small whisper at times, a roar like wildfire at others, the voices had always been there, telling her she would be great; that she would be powerful; that she would rule. Now they tell her that everything is not lost, that she will escape and be the great leader she was always born to be.

The voices believe in her. They love her. Not like her mother—Ursa hated her; always correcting her; 'talking to her' and gently telling her she was wrong. Again. When she thought Azula wasn't looking she would stare at her and shake her head sadly, as if she was a mistake. Then Mother would turn to Zuko, who was usually bawling over the game she had been playing with him, and hug him and fuss over him, telling him how 'special' he was, and what a great Fire Lord he would be. Listening from the shadows, Azula would laugh bitterly. Zuko? Great? The thought was a little amusing and utterly infuriating. He wasn't great! She was the prodigy!

He was the failure. The disappointment. Why hadn't Ursa seen that? It wasn't as if Azula didn't prove it to her; when Ursa would watch their lessons, she would unleash a display of bending that left her tutors with bulging eyes and gaping mouths. She destroyed her sparring partner—usually Zuko—in every match, but when she stood triumphant, waiting for a word of praise (A nod. Even a glance.), all she got was a glare.

"You could have hurt him!"

Then Zuko and Ursa would feed the turtle ducks from the stone bench by the ornamental pond, banishing Azula to the shadows to watch Ursa coo over her bright and shining son. Her own daughter was nothing—a mere shadow—next to him.

Nothing…the voices echo mockingly. Mother never understood you…no one does…

"No-one understands," she whimpers.

You're Princess Azula, jewel of the Fire Nation. Zuko is an ant next to your greatness, an ant easily squashed.

She smiles. The fantasy of killing Zuko always gives her a thrill of pleasure. Why should he continue living while she rots in this cell?

The voices echo in agreement.

"He shouldn't," Azula hisses aloud. She blasts a fiery breath at her chains, blistering her skin. The voices egg her on with encouraging chants, but the metal remains untouched despite her attempts. She tries again, this time using her tongue to shape the flame into a driving channel of white fire. Nothing. A different angle. There is not one attack on the metal that she has not tried a hundred times before, but she cannot give up because she knows that on the next blast she will be free. For half a heartbeat, a handful of sparks glow redly on the cuffs, before winking out and going cold. Impotent rage sends curls of flame at the walls as she screams. Zuko had known. He had planned. He won't let her out. She will be caged forever.

Caged forever

She stops, glancing around the room with red rimmed eyes. She wouldn't be caged. She wouldn't let Zuko have that satisfaction. She crawls over to the dirty mattress that serves as her bed, a laugh like the snarl of a crazed animal bursting from her strained throat as she sets the bed aflame. Her dirty garments begin to smoke at the hems, but she still laughs, even has her sleeves catch fire. This fire is not strong enough to severely harm her—this element is her second nature, after all—but fortunately, she does not depend on it alone; to truly burn, all she has to do is let go. She lets go of all control over her inner fire; feels chi run wildly through her blood and lightning explode in her heart. She won't let Zuko cage her. She will die with honor; in fire like the great Fire Lords.

The guards, when they finally arrive, will be too late; she will be with the spirits of her Fire Lord ancestors. She would rule in the otherworld, and watch Zuko's failure from her palace above. She would laugh, because he hadn't been able to cage her. She would be free. Free from bondage. Free from Zuko. Free from pain. Free from heartache.

Free. She would die free, laughing.