bellatrixobsessed1:

Azula chewed the tip of her pen and let out an exasperated sigh. Each and every lyric she put on paper sounded too sappy or too cliche. And if it didn’t sound like that it sounded just plain stupid or overdone. She groaned and buried her face in her hands, her long nails digging somewhat forcefully into her hair line. She promised Sokka she’d have a song for him tomrrow and she wasn’t one to back out of her promises. Perhaps she could dig up an older song. She frowned to herself. All of her old lyrics were just as awful, if not, more so. 

I should have burned those years ago. She thought to herself, think mostly of one particular song that she wrote upon catching Zuko and Mai making out in the chicken coop. She cringed–at both the memory and the terrible song it inspired. 

The siblings promised not to speak of it again. After all, Azula refused to be associated with that musical disaster and Zuko and Mai were content to forget that they tried making out in a chicken coop. Who makes out in a chicken coop anyways? Azula wondered.

She looked back down at the black sheet in front of her and groaned. No wonder she wasn’t getting anywhere with this whole musical career thing.

Perhaps she should just take a break. Azula, pushed out her chair stood up and stretched. She wandered over to the window and climbed onto the roof. Just one more thing that her father would yell at her for if he caught her doing it. At least this time she knew he only yelled because he cared. But she’d been sitting on the roof for years and she never even came close to falling, so she didn’t quite understand what the big deal was.

A soft breeze fluttered her hair and sundress. Azula frowned, the days of sundresses were nearly over–really they should have been over months ago, but they were having a pretty warm autumn so far. She gazed up at the mid-afternoon sun. It warmly touched her skin and cast a warm golden haze over the rolling green of her backyard. She decided to take it in whilst she could, after all the grass would be dead soon. Azula’s eyes wandered to the shadows cast by the sun; trees and barns among other things. And the swing set she and Zuko used to use all the time. The pair still used it on occasions when they had things that they wanted to talk through.

Maybe she would invite Sokka over to her place this time. They could sit on those swings as she played her guitar. Sokka hadn’t been to visit since they were kids of ten. “Such a long time.” She murdered to herself. From somewhere in the yard came the call of a sparrow, answered moments later by it’s mate. Azula closed her eyes, taking in the smell of hay, honeysuckle, and hot, dry, grass. The kind of grass that one can normally only get on a smoldering summer afternoon. 

With one last glance over the rolling fields, Azula slipped back into her bedroom, opting to leave the window open for the breeze to flutter her curtains. 

That’s what she’d write her song about. The wind in the curtains and the sun on the hills. And nothing but–no deeper meaning, no metaphors, just the feeling of a weirdly warm autumn afternoon. She picked up her pencil and began to jot a few things down, mostly of the images and feelings she wanted to touch on. Just so she wouldn’t forget them. Heaven knew that the song would come out rushed if she tried to squeeze all of her ideas in without putting them in order first. She made a separate note to remind her to make a song of this sort for the other three seasons. 

This truly would be a good place to start; nothing deep nor sappy. Nothing that she poured her soul or secrets into. Not that Azula ever considered releasing a song that got too personal. She sent Sokka a quick text before getting to work. 

.oOo.

Sokka was in the garden when he got her text. 

“I think this un’s jus’ perfect.” Katara plucked a ripe tomato. “Ma said the tomatas would be good this season.” She picked a smaller one, wiped it on her shirt, and took a bite. “They taste great too.” She held it out to Sokka. 

“I’m the meat ‘n sarcasm guy, not the veggies ‘n satire man.” 

Katara rolled her eyes, “it wouldn’t kill ya ta eat yer vegetables once ‘n a while, Sokka.” 

Sokka shrugged. “I dunno, I might jus’ be ‘lergic to ‘em.” 

“If you’s allergic to vegetables then ya wouldn’t be a good farmer now would ya?”

“Fair point.” He replied. “But I don’ have time for eatin’ veggies. Tell ma I’m goin’ ta Azula’s.”

Katara puffed up her cheeks and fixed her face with a pout. “Yer always hangin’ out wit her. Wad’ ‘bout Aang ‘n Toph?” 

“I reckon I hang out wit them more. ‘N sides, I’m wit ya more ‘n anyone else.” He ruffled her hair. 

“I don’ care Sokka!” Katara protested.

“Jus’ cos she bullied ya a few times in middle school. She ain’t done it since.”

“She ain’t apologize fer it either.” Katara pointed out.

“She ain’t never ‘pologize ta no one. That’s jus’ who she is.” Sokka recalled all of those times she’d landed him on his ass during their childhood play fights. He still didn’t get even one sorry. But then again, neither did she.  

Sokka parked his truck in Azula’s driveway and wandered into the backyard. Azula sat, accented by a halo from the setting sun, upon the right swing. Her guitar propped against the swing’s frame. Upon noticing him approach, Azula greeted him with a wave. He couldn’t make out the expression on her silhouetted face.

“It’s been a while since you’ve come ‘round here.” Azula noted. “The bench is new, uncle han’ made it for us.” 

“It’s nice, yer lucky yer uncle can make neat things fer ya.”

“Well come on, take a seat.” Azula pushed the swing over to him and as he sat, picked up her guitar. She plucked at each string, making sure that they were in perfect tune and began to sing. 

Her eyes never seemed to leave the strings as her fingers glided gracefully over them. She looked serene, more so than Sokka had seen her in a while. After a few more cords came her voice;  soft, light and with a honey like quality. Dream-like, if he dared say. She looked up and smiled at him as she played the guitar solo. And then came those soothing vocals. If sound could be visualized her voice would gold like the sun behind her; warm and vibrant, Joyful in a mellow way. With one final strum, she set her guitar back upon the swing’s frame.  “Course that’s just the first version, might get to changin’ it later.”

“Why would you change it!? It’s perfect.” 

“Not nearly.” Azula muttered. “Yer the first person I sang to, ya know? ‘Cept for ZuZu and father.”

“Ya haven’t even sang ta TyLee?” Sokka asked. 

“Nope, not yet.” 

“Why not?” Sokka questioned. 

Azula shrugged. “Jus’ cos. Sometimes I don’t think I can come up with anythin’ worth singin’ for other folks yet.” 

“Well, I liked it. There ain’t many good songs ‘bout fall.” Sokka replied, watching as a grasshopper flung itself over Azula’s foot and onto a nearby flower. 

“You should write a song about a grasshopper.” 

“Now why’d I ever do somethin’ like that?” Azula asked. 

“Jus’ tryin’ a help.” Sokka shrugged. 

“Eh, you jus’ shut up ‘n listen, will ya?” She smirked. At least now she knew that one person enjoyed her music.

bellatrixobsessed1:

Let me know how I’m doing on the accents. As I have it set Sokka’s got a full blown one, Azula somewhat does but uses things like ‘to’ instead of ‘ta’ and ‘your’ instead of ‘yer’ and such. Tylee has a bit of an accent. And Mai won’t really have one at all.

Azula perched herself upon the picket fence with an empty
tin bucket in hand.

 Swinging her legs in the air, she looked at Sokka. “Anythin’
else you need me to do?”

 Sokka looked around. “I think that’s ‘bout it.” He took the
bucket from her hands and set it to the side. In place of the bucket he rested
his own hands.  "Thanks fer yer
help. Gotta lot more done then I thought I would.”

 Azula cocked her head, “you mean I got a lot more done then
you thought you would.”

 Sokka slung an arm around her neck nearly knocking her off
of the fence. With his free hand he playfully drove his knuckles into her head,
the way he always did with Katara. Azula wasn’t all that different from her,
when it came down to it. They offered the same type of laugh and smile at his
playful banter. The only difference was that when Azula fought back, she’d
usually have him pinned to the floor until he threw his hands up in a mock
surrender. Today, however, was one of those days where she simply let him
finish ruffling her hair, maybe offer him a punch to the arm, and carry on
talking.

“After all I done did all of the hardest work. All y’all did
was carry ‘round some hay. I was actually in the field.” Azula pointed out.

The girl wasn’t wrong, she’d gotten nearly all of the
harvesting done. A ton of wheat and even more corn. All he had to do was get
Hakoda to double check her work and begin the process of selling the harvest.
This year if all went as planned he’d be able to pick and choose which foods
the family would keep.

“Ya got any werk you need done on yer own farm? I could
help.” Sokka offered.

“Don’t be silly, Sokka. You know that daddy has someone ta
do that that for us should ZuZu not finish. But believe it or not, ZuZu usually
does get everythin’ done.” Azula shrugged. “I ain’t allowed to have any fun,
‘less I come over here.” She rolled her eyes. “Speaking of, I best get back
home. Gotta wash off before daddy gets home. He’ll throw a mighty good fit if
he catches me like this.” She motioned to her muddy clothes and knees and dust
coated cheeks.

“What’s he got ‘gainst a lil dirt?” Sokka asked. “Shows you
bin workin’ hard.”

“It ain’t so much that I been workin’. He’s just getting’
tired of buyin’ me new clothes over ‘n over. I think he’s also tired of waitin’
for the shower.”

“So yer allowed ta werk the fields ‘nd the animals, long as
ya don’t git dirty?”

“Som’in like that.” Azula shrugged. “That’s the problem
though, can’t get anythin’ done ‘less you get messy.”

“Suppose yer right.” Sokka agreed. “But ya can’t stay even jus’ a lil longer.”

“Well, I also told TyLee that I’d help her tend her stables.” Azula replied. “I would tell her that somethin’ came up, but I think she needs me. Sometimes I think that, that girl can’t tell a garden hoe from a rake.”

“Maybe I could stop by some time.” Sokka suggested.

“Well that’s up to you.” Azula snatched up her cowboy hat and leapt off of the fence. “I’ll see ya ‘round, Sokka.” She winked.

Sokka watched her walk away until her body became an indistinguishable speck off in the distance.  

.oOo.

TyLee gave the reigns two swift flicks. As her horse, a beautiful  and graceful gypsy horse, rounded the bend, she hugged her legs tighter to the horse’s side.  With the swift turn the gypy’s mane fanned out. The fur adorning it’s four muscular legs fluttering in a similar manner.  

She was nearly at the end of her morning ride. All she had to do was bring Kahnim to a stroll and leisurely take the forest route black to the stables. TyLee had been riding Kahnim since she was a little girl and had learned that the horse liked to cool down using the forest route. She took her hand away from the reigns briefly to flip her braid back over her shoulder. “You did good taday.” TyLee beamed at the horse, stroking her neck lovingly.  

She brought the horse to a halt, listening to the clomp of his hooves against the dusty gravel path. She carefully leapt to the ground and took hold of the reigns again. From there she’d lead the horse back into the stables.

“Looks like Kahnim is gonna get some extra exercise today.”

“Azula!” TyLee let go of the horse and ran up to Azula, squeezing her long-time friend in a tight embrace.

“Alright, alright! That’s a’nuff Ty.” The girl couldn’t even begin to fathom why TyLee still got so excited every time she saw her.

“What are you doing here?”

“You asked me to help you get to cleanin’ the stables. Remember?” Azula put her hands on her hips, tilting her head slightly so that her bangs fell into her face some.

“Oh yeah. That’s right!” TyLee recalled. She gave the horse a few pets, “alright looks like you do get more play time.”

The horse whinnied. TyLee sighed, “well we have to clean yer stall, boy, ma and pa have been tellin’ me ta do it for a while.”

“I suppose it’ll be good for him to get the extra outside time, with the big race commin’ up ‘n all.” Azula remarked as she watched the horse trot off to join his companions.

TyLee lead the duo into the stables.

“When did you last clean this!?” Azula scoffed at the stench.

“Oh I’m sorry, Azula! It’s been a while. I’m not very good at this.” TyLee winced.

“Well you’re gonna have to make it up to me sometime.” Azula smirked. “How ’bout this? As punishment, you get to muck the stalls. I’ll do everythin’ else.”  Azula picked up a stall fork and handed it to TyLee.

“Yer so mean ‘Zula.” TyLee pouted.

“And ya’ll need to learn to clean your stalls more regularly.” Azula countered. “Now, you use that”, she pointed to the fork, “to get clean out most of the hay. Might need a shovel to scrape what remains. ‘N you put it the hay in this here wheelbarrow. After you do that, I’ll lay down the new beddin’.” At this, Azula snatched up a pitch fork.

Upon noticing TyLee’s pout, Azula made another offer. “If you can muck out the stalls, I’ll even stick ’round and help you clean the horses themselves.”

TyLee considered, tapping her chin. Well it did mean more time with Azula…
“Alright, I’ll try my best.”

Azula rolled her eyes, she’d probably end up finishing the job. But somehow it didn’t matter, she’d grab a shower at TyLee’s place afterwards and then tell her father that she’d simply decided to give riding a try.

TyLee hugged her again, “thank you so much, ‘Zula.”

“Work now. Hug later.” Azula tilted her hat and pointed at the fork.

TyLee nodded. “So how’s Sokka? You see hi. Lastly?”

“Yes I seen ‘him. He’s doin’ well.” Azula answered, she’d engage her friend so long as it kept the girl on task.

“Of course you’ve seen him.” TyLee winked.

“I was helpin’ him  finish some of his field work.” Azula replied nonchalantly.

“Right that’s what you been doin’.” TyLee began making childish kissy faces.

Azula lifted the pitchfork, pretending to hit her with it. “It ain’t like that.”

“Ain’t it?” TyLee giggled, she’d finally gotten her first scoop of hay into the wheelbarrow.

“There ain’t nothin’ ‘tween me and Sokka.” Azula insisted.

“If you say so.” TyLee shrugged. “Guess next time I wanna know I’ll have to ask Mai or Zuko.”

“They’ll tell you the same.” Azula replied. Even so, images of lovely summer nights filled her brain. The ones that had her stomach fluttering pleasantly. Sokka had a certain something about him that Azula liked. Liked more than she normally would. “Ain’t nothin’, trust me.”

“You aren’t gonna write a song about him?” TyLee asked.

“I will sit this pitchfork down and leave you to clean this yourself.” Azula threatened, knowing good and well that she wouldn’t actually abandon TyLee. Not so close to the fair anyways.

She’d put up with the girl’s teasing and chatter until the job was done. And then she’d be heading to Sokka’s again the next morning. She had been promising him for weeks now, that she’d show him a song or two.