A/N: Well since I love Tyzula so much I figured I should at least try to write an epic multichapter fluff fest for my two favorite avatar girls. This chapter is just getting into the odd little premise of my fic, no real action yet.

Disclaimer: You have been disclaimed.

White Cherry Women

People in sharp uniforms. Gold plated piping with aluminum underneath. Lights, lanterns, walls, and windows. Everything in the world had come out today in their sordid colors to wasp around her, flicker in her eyes then flit away. Nothing was constant. If something left a line of sight it would be meddling else were in a moment. Hearty little snap shots of pretentious nobles nursing teacups, turning saucers, talking about nothing and hearing nothing.

Around Azula the teashop moved as if under a strobe. There were no smooth movements or people with hearts and heads to walk among, just forever changing scenery. She clutched at her knees for what seemed like the thousandth time for an anchor, so she alone would remain unchanged, so she wouldn't disappear between the frames. Her eyelids dripped further and further shut as clear afternoon light shifted into glaring orange sunset and her sensitive eyes couldn't handle it.

No one told the teashop, however, that today was supposed to be a happy day. No one told the birds to sing and citizens to hold festivities. On her first day of freedom the sun was too bright, the people were too faceless and even worse she was as well. In prison at least people knew to fear her. They knew she was worthy of such a stir. Here she was washed straight clean, bleached, and given a new identity. Someone sad and sorry huddled alone in a teashop. From one prison to another, always watched, always controlled.

Downy black hair flittered in front of her deep golden eyes in the slight breeze wafting through. Not a single article of her clothing dared any like movement, however, as it clung uselessly around jutting bone and pasty white skin. She didn't have the energy in the morning to tie it up, to fetter over differentiating lengths and tight scalp pulling top-knots. No, not when for so long there hadn't been any need to be anything close to presentable for the dark forlorn stone walls and guards with dead eyes that never saw.

But she wasn't in prison any longer. The day she turned eighteen she'd been given a first class ticket to Ba Sing Se. She was awarded probation, because jail wasn't doing any good for her and she was only following orders and she was just a child after all. Fuzzy Fire Lord Zuko came up with reason after reason, all lies, all elaborations. He wanted his sister to live with Uncle to reform her, to make her "good". It had worked for him after all. Then maybe someday they could all sit together and drink tea or something.

Still freedom was freedom and Azula would never reject and offer to give her self the upper hand. She smiled and nodded smugly when being escorted from her cell. The first thing she did when arriving at The Jasmine Dragon was pen a letter thanking her darling Zuzu for becoming soft, for it seemed just like yesterday he was promising she'd never see the light of day again.

What to do with her new found freedom she hadn't yet decided. Planning a raid on the Fire Nation could take years. Then again was it even worth it? What was there in the Fire Nation but people who'd failed and disappointed her time and time again. Sure it would please her to rule over them for all of about a day, but what then? No matter which way she turned she was just sitting passive while the world took it's swings at her. Maybe it was just better that way.

"Hello there, Azula," A pair of lidded golden eyes shot open, then immediately closed over a threatening urge to tear up over the bright afternoon lighting.

"Yes, Uncle?" She rolled over the title venomously, "Is there something that you want?"

"Want, no, I don't want anything from you Azula. I just saw you sitting all alone over here and thought you could use some tea." A pudgy hand slid a little steaming tea-cup across the table. It smelt like astringent. Azula dared to lift her eyes for a moment to catch an innocent look on Iroh's face. He gave an exaggerated nod. "Come now. It will help you to feel better."

She lowered her head to hover over the cup and bathe in the steam, the heat, sliding her legs to the side to do so. A little cockney smile formed on her lips as she began to nurse the drink. "Is it spiked?" Her glistening eyes lifted to his face again to see him force a little laugh and shake his head. She lifted the thing and took a quick swig. "Then it won't help me."

Iroh sighed, "Listen to me. Nothing will ever be able to help you if you don't open yourself up to the possibilities." He punctuated his last word with a sweeping arch of his hands, "What ever help means to you, you'll have to decide, but trust me, you need it."

"Ah, Uncle," a frightening cackle bubbled over her lips, "If three years in prison wasn't your 'help' what exactly have I to fear now? Are you going to tie me to a bedpost and beat me with a stick until I start kissing babies and singing show tunes?"

"No, Azula, that is the tea's work." A large hand fitted itself stiffly over one of Azula's much smaller ones. "All I'm going to do is sit here and mind my own business." He began drinking his own tea looking content.

Help? It had started already. Everyone in the world was convinced that there was something wrong with her, that she was the one with the problem. It's all politics really. No one's ever really right except the one who wins and then every one else is defective. Poor Azula was nothing more than a war casualty left to fester and rot in a dank cell for being a revolutionary, for being an enemy of the government. Right and wrong are non-existent.

Her fiery eyes trailed up to a smiling Uncle. "I'm not sorry, you know? I'd do it all again. You're a fool just like Zuko." she took another sip of her tea, to let it burn on her tongue and spread its warmth.

"If that is what you think I can say no argument. We are who we are." He moved his hand that had been pressing on hers to the bottom of his teacup. "No manner of punishment can change a person's heart."

"Exactly, and I haven't one to change anyway. You are going to have to try harder, Uncle." Azula took another overly large gulp and scanned the room under partially lidded eyes. People were clearing out. It was getting dark.

Iroh laughed dumbly, "And what is it that I am trying? I'm just drinking tea and being a polite conversationalist."

Azula paused for a long moment, while letting her eyes follow on last person on their trek out the door. If they were alone she could simply off her beloved uncle and find a nice little Earth Kingdom village to hide out and plot. Surely that would be more conducive than hanging around a dry smelling teashop for the rest of her life.

In a halting motion she rose to her feet. Little slippery slippers adjusted to the rug beneath her. She let her eyes settle on Uncle watching him sip at his tea seemingly oblivious to her presence.

Oh, how easy it would be. Snap his neck in half of a second before he even had the chance to react. She would tuck him sweetly into bed for a horrified employee perhaps to find.

Instead, however, she turned, feet almost moving by themselves off into the little room where her makeshift bed sat waiting. All thoughts in her head turned dull, like an mindless drone. She striped off her smooth silk slippers and placed them orderly at the edge of her bedroll. Her tightly woven socks came next, folded and tucked into her slippers.

Sure she could have killed him easily, but why do what they were expecting of her? She had a whole lifetime of opportunities. And she hadn't had any sort of 'opportunity' for the longest time.