|
~The Avatar Fanfic~ All is Conquered-Part1 (Chapters 1-7) |
|
|
|
|
|
|
(Chapter 1)
*(Season Finale Episode)- In the caves below Ba-Sing-Sei a white-hot bolt of lightning cracks through the air, and the Avatar drops to the stone floor, the glowing arrows on his hands and forehead dimming away to nothing.
The tendrils of menacing water faltered as Katara saw him go down, "Aang!" she cried, the panic in her voice as transparent as glass. "Aan--"
Something smashed roughly into the back of Katara's head with a sick thud. She staggered one step toward the little heap of the Avatar's body lying on the cave floor, her ears ringing and her vision floating away from the force of the Dai Lee's attack. Katara's knees buckled and her bending-water gushed into a huge puddle on the cave floor as she splashed heavily to the ground and blacked-out. Seeing his ally fall, the old General of the Fire Nation reacted immediately, quickly dispatching the Dai Lee in his way and making a break for the Avatar's body. Scooping the boy up from the rocks without halting his dead run, General Iroh set the gaping hole in the cave wall that he and the Avatar had come through in his sights and all but flew past the scrambling Dai Lee. A powerful, well-aimed blast of fire collapsed the hole behind them, and the old firebender escaped with the fatally-wounded Avatar.
A sound of mild frustration echoed through the cave from where Princess Azula stood glaring at the wall of rubble that had allowed her quarry to escape. She turned on her heel to face the Dai Lee that had gathered in a loose circle around the unconscious waterbender. She cast a quick glance at the defeated warrior lying in a puddle on the cave floor. So, this was the Avatar's lover, this soggy little girl with long dark hair? She turned her glare on half of the uniformed earthbenders clustered there and thrust a pointing finger in the direction of the collapsed hole.
"Follow them." Azula snapped, "And send word when they settle."
Seven of them hurried away, and disappeared through the hole with the low clatter of heavy stone shifting.
"The rest of you, bring the girl." she said, a slow, cruel smile creeping over her lips as her eyes roved over the comatose girl's body, examining her more closely. If nothing else, the Avatar had taste in choosing his women.
She was shapely, yes, but there was more to it than that. Something; she wasn't sure just what it was, but that 'something' was deeply intriguing. It could be the fact that she was sopping wet from her bending-water, and her soaked clothing clung to her every curve, covering everything and hiding nothing. Perhaps it was the sight of her being dragged across the rough stone floor, limp and utterly vulnerable to harm? Or maybe it was the faint expression of helpless distress that lingered so innocently on her unconscious face?
"Azula." Zuko's voice echoed from across the cave.
Ah yes, she'd almost forgotten about him. She licked her lips without looking away from the Avatar's girl as one of the eight Dai Lee roughly dragged her away by the wrist. Zuko came sprinting across the cave and halted near his sister, his serious gaze also fixed on the captured waterbender.
"Azula, what are you doing?"
Without sparing her foolish, dishonored brother even a slight glance, she answered, "I'm just acquiring a new hobby." and strode away, following her Dai Lee at a leisurely pace, her malicious gaze still drinking in her magnificent new toy.
Zuko's brain barely registered his sister's words, because as he'd fallen into step beside the Dai Lee, he'd caught a clear look at the unconscious girl's sopping-wet form. The only reason he didn't stop dead in his tracks to stare, is because it would have blocked his view of her as the soldiers dragged her away. His eyes were locked to the firm curves of her body beneath the soaked fighting uniform. Slender, supple arms and legs, a firm torso that flowed gently into deliciously curved hips, and small, perfectly round breasts smothering in the clingy wet fabric.
Reduced to the intelligence of a slobbering dog, Zuko could do nothing but follow and gawk at the hostage girl.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
(Chapter 2)
Katara woke in a square room entirely made of iron. There were no windows and nothing except a burning torch in each corner, a small riveted door in one wall, and an angular metal chair. Sitting patiently in the chair, closely watching her every move, was Princess Azula.
Katara shivered in her wet clothes where she lay on the cold iron floor and Azula’s smile seemed to glint. She sat up warily, eyeing the firebender’s eerie little smile, and rubbed her arms to try to get warm.
Azula’s spine tingled at the prisoner’s sudden alarmed gasp as she discovered the iron collar and cuffs on her upper-arms and ankles. She grinned as the girl immediately began to pry at them with her weak, shaky fingers.
“Now why would I go through all the trouble of fitting you with those restraints if you could get them off?” The captured girl turned to her with a glare.
“Some restraints,” Katara snarled at her, with fear visible in her clear blue eyes, “they aren’t even tied to anything.”
Azula’s grin did not falter.
She raised her left arm and tapped the identical cuff on her wrist, “But they are tied.” She said menacingly, “To me.”
A flicker of terror momentarily broke Katara’s glare of defiance, and her fingers grew still on the collar around her neck. A violent shiver went through her body.
“You’ll catch your death if you don’t change.” Azula said scoldingly, picking up an ugly, plain dress made of rags, from the back of the metal chair. Smiling twistedly at all the possible meanings of her own words, she held it out as she came closer to her prisoner.
“Take it. Now.”
Katara eyed her jailer with pure loathing and refused to even look at the filthy garment.
Azula raised her cuffed left fist, “Now.” she ordered, and the cuff turned red-hot.
Instantly, Katara felt the iron bands on her throat and limbs growing hot, and she clenched her teeth as she pried at them in her panic, to keep silent as the metal became too hot to bear. The collar and cuffs were searing brands against the smoking fabric of her clothes, and white-hot rings of agony against her blistering almond skin. Her throat and biceps felt the firebending even after the heat had faded from the restraints, and she only noticed that she was screaming until she choked on them, and found she was on the cold iron floor.
Azula watched the waterbender cry out and drop to her knees, the girl’s crumpled grimace of pain causing a sweet, tight feeling of pity in her chest. Ah, watching such a pretty creature suffer and bend to her will was almost intoxicating. Once more Azula held out the dirty rag dress. The girl raised her hands to take it, and Azula dropped it over her trembling fingers.
Bending down so that her lips brushed the waterbender’s ear, she whispered, “There, now that wasn’t so hard, was it?”
Katara was trembling, and her pretty blue eyes brimmed over as she tried to bite back little gasping sobs.
Azula stood, and returned to the chair placed between the prisoner and the single, windowless door of the cell. She settled herself into the hard seat and crossed her legs, propping her elbow on top of her knee and leaning on her hand.
“Now,” she said, her lazy smile curling at the corners, “change.”
Katara bit her lip and put her face in her hands as her shoulders began to shake.
Azula flexed her left hand, “Perhaps I wasn’t being clear…”
Outside the cell, the two guards flinched visibly as the prisoner began to scream.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
(Chapter 3)
Zuko paced impatiently back and forth in front of the raised platform in the throneroom; the throneroom his sister had singlehandedly snatched right out from under the idiot king of Ba-Sing-Sei. Where was Azula? It wasn’t like her to miss this chance. She loved power in all it’s forms, that Zuko knew, and she deeply enjoyed watching others suffer. If she were present, she would be seated regally upon the throne of Ba-Sing-Sei, basking in the success of her coup’ de tat. But she had disappeared immediately after arriving back at the palace and dismissing him as if she were speaking only to herself, and he hadn’t seen her since.
What could possibly tempt Azula away from such an absolute victory as this?
Now that Zuko thought about it, she had been showing an unnatural amount of interest in that waterbender-girl that the Dai Lee captured. Not that he could blame her; he was far from blind, afterall. Zuko stopped pacing and cleared his throat aloud, as he ran a hand through his scruffy, mussed hair. All that time he’d been following the Avatar, that girl had been with them. He must have seen her a million times, but he’d never realized that she looked like… like THAT.
He shook his head sharply, halting his train of thought before it could leave the station. No! No. She’s with the Avatar; she’s the enemy. En-nuh-mee. Stay focused.
He turned abruptly and swept out the large throneroom doors. Just outside them, he rounded on one of the two Dai Lee stationed on either side.
“Where is Princess Azula?”
“In the dungeons with the prisoner.” The bearded man answered promptly.
Before Zuko could open his mouth to fire another question at the guard, three other Dai Lee came swiftly down the long corridor. They halted and stood stiffly at attention, then the soldier in the middle spoke up.
“We have news for Her Highness Princess Azula, regarding the Avatar and the traitor General Iroh.”
“Marvelous.” She came striding down the length of the hallway as if summoned by her name, and briskly walked right past all of them on her way to the throneroom, shoving both the huge doors wide with her outstretched hands, “Come with me.”
As she had passed, completely ignoring him, Zuko had caught the acrid smell of burned flesh in a faint wisp from Azula’s clothes.
A look of horror slid across his scarred face as he watched Azula walk by, close enough to brush him with her shoulder, and disappear inside the king’s throneroom with the three Dai Lee at her heels. Zuko wheeled around as soon as the huge double-doors boomed shut and bolted down the long corridor from where Azula had come.
The waterbender-girl in the dungeons; what had she done to her? He remembered again the whiff of burned flesh, as his feet pounded the smooth marble floors.
He had no idea where he was going, but he followed the faint bitter scent like a bloodhound, skidding wildly around one corner after another until the polished marble floor gave way to flat gray iron under his feet, and flat torchlit walls and ceiling boxed him in. The next corner revealed a long line of bolted iron doors on either side of him as he ran, and one at the very end; smaller and without a tiny barred window like the others.
Two edgy-looking Dai Lee stood guard on either side, and the smell was strong enough that he began to choke as he ran. It reeked as if the prisoner had been burned alive inside her cell…
“Open the door!” Zuko ordered breathlessly, stopping in front of the two Dai Lee. They glanced nervously between themselves, but made no move to open the door. “I said open it!” he yelled, a flicker of fire arced warningly between the fingers of his right hand. The Dai Lee scrambled to obey, one tugging back the heavy iron bar, and the other heaving on the dense riveted handle. The door was barely open before Zuko rushed inside.
The thick wretched odor hit him like something solid, and his stomach in the reeking darkness of the cell. The dim orange light from the open door showed the four extinguished torches in each corner as Zuko took deep breaths of the sour air to quiet his nausea. He lit the nearest torch with a flick of his wrist, then the one across from it, and finally the two farthest caught the little soaring flames thrust from Zuko’s fingertips and flared, adding smoke to the putrid air.
“Gods…” he whispered in disbelieving horror, unable to tear his eyes from the distant corner of the cell.
The waterbender-girl lay huddled on the iron floor in a dirty heap of rags. By the wavering yellow light of the torches, Zuko could see the iron cuffs on her ankles and upper arms, and the collar around her neck. The girl’s almond skin was mottled white and red with blistering burns where the heated cuffs had touched, and her tousled dark hair was pulled out of it’s holds and fell in the way of her face. She lay with her knees drawn up close to her, and her hands balled into loose fists with her arms crossed over her chest. Through the dark strands of her wavy hair, her face was still scrunched with pain that Zuko could only imagine.
She did not move at all, not even as he cautiously approached her corner; he couldn’t even tell if she was breathing. Gods, she certainly looked like she could be dead, and the thought made Zuko feel strangely distraught as he went to his knees on the cold iron floor.
As he reached out his hand and brushed her soft hair away from her face, he saw the tears all over her cheeks and how smooth her unburned skin was, and realized that he couldn’t even remember her name.
He thought hard as he looked into her pained face, and it seemed like the word for her eluded him on purpose, dancing around just beneath a thin veil of memory where he couldn’t quite reach. What was the word that went with this face? The face for which that word was made; what was it? Zuko was so focused on remembering the waterbender-girl’s name, that he reached out without thinking and touched her cheek. It startled him to feel something alive under his hand, but he didn’t pull away. He had never touched anyone so gently before, and even more confusing to him, he had never wanted to as he did now.
Zuko could barely see that the girl was breathing, and it surprised him again that he could be so relieved over such a thing as that. He glanced over her body, clenched tightly into a fetal hug, and let his eyes wander back to her face, noticing how every motionless line of her body and crease of her brow revealed the torture Azula had no doubt put her through. It must have been pity he was feeling in his chest when he realized that it would happen again tomorrow, and for weeks to come if Azula didn’t tire of her. It would almost be better for her to die now…
The thought stopped him. Yes, it would be better if she didn’t suffer. Zuko looked at the tears on her smooth tan cheeks conflictedly. What if…
What if he ended it right now…?
At least then… Katara… yes, that was her name… then Katara wouldn’t have to endure the agony of Azula’s firebending restraints…
Zuko placed a hand firmly on either side of the waterbender-girl’s, Katara’s, head and held it. Her face contorted in pain as Zuko turned her head toward him and the iron collar shifted, preparing to snap her neck before anything could happen. But her soft, agonized gasp stopped him cold, and the two slivers of cool blue staring faintly up at him from beneath her lashes silenced his own breathing instantly.
Zuko was frozen, with Katara’s face between his hands. He couldn’t move; he couldn’t make himself do it. She was so weak and her breath so faint, it would have been easy. But her lips opened as if she were about to speak, and then her eyes fell closed again, and she was unconscious.
Katara’s head was limp in his grasp, and very gently, Zuko laid it down on the cold iron floor on a cushion of her dark wavy hair. He brushed his fingertips once across her lips, and stood to leave the wretched iron cell, extinguishing the torches behind him as he went.
The two Dai Lee on guard closed and barred the heavy iron door without a word or glance between them, and watched the outcast prince as he went slowly past the rows of other empty cells and out of the dungeons.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
(Chapter 4)
Azula gave a little wriggle as she settled herself on the squashy cushion of the raised throne. She was so deliciously satisfied that she could have started to purr. But there were other matters that needed her attention; she could recall about the waterbender in the dungeons later…
“Your Highness,” the middle Dai Lee began, “you requested we send word when the Avatar and the traitor General Iroh had settled.”
“And?” Azula raised an eyebrow expectantly.
“They have settled in a cave about a day’s journey from Ba-Sing-Sei. We don’t know if they intend to stay-” Azula cut him off.
“What do you mean ‘they?” her eyes narrowed, “The Avatar is alive?”
“Well, yes, Your Highness.” The Dai Lee flinched ever so slightly, “But only just. He is still in very bad condition and the General has no medical supplies. The Avatar’s chances of recovery are very slim.”
Azula frowned. This news had put a damper on her fantastic day. If the Avatar died now, he would just be reincarnated and the Fire Nation would have to begin the search all over, from scratch. And a cave was no place to recover; cold and drafty, full of filth and animals, and considering the land around the city, there probably wasn’t much in the way of provisions or natural medicine. All her fool of an uncle knew was which leaves would make for a nice tea. Azula snorted silently to herself. No, this would require a great deal more finesse. She laced her fingers together and touched them to her pursed lips as she thought for a moment.
“Your Highness?”
Azula held up a hand, silencing him.
“Your orders, Princess?”
A sly smirk was tugging at the corner of Azula’s lips, “Are they aware that they are being followed?”
“No, Your Highness.” The Dai Lee answered confidently.
“In that case, I want you and all but one of your men, to go ahead of the Avatar and my dear uncle,” the cruelty in her voice as she spoke of the General gave the three Dai Lee chills, “and I want you to build a small cabin.”
The looks of utter confusion on the three men’s ugly faces were almost laughable.
“Your Highness?” the poor man in the middle sputtered.
Idiots; all of them. Azula’s rising momentary amusement turned sour, and she looked down on the three of them with distaste, “Make it look like it’s been abandoned, and make sure that my uncle and the Avatar find it fairly well stocked.” Looks of sudden understanding finally began to show on the faces of the three earthbenders.
“I understand, Princess.” The one in the middle said, bowing low, “We will see to it that they don’t discover our presence.”
“Very good.” Azula confirmed. She rolled her eyes in complete derision as soon as their three green-clad backs were turned.
Unfortunately, the whole thing had ruined her good mood. One couldn’t always hand-pick their servants. Azula slouched back in the comfy throne, determined to reclaim that euphoric state of contentment. What could cheer her up that much, though? Only one thing…
But still, it seemed too soon to be heading back down to the dungeons already. If she went now, the prisoner would be too worn-out to be any fun. Azula’s rouged lips pouted disappointedly. There had to be something she would enjoy doing, she just needed to think of it. But no matter what, she couldn’t keep the waterbender out of her head. Somehow, her every thought led right back to that windowless cell in the dungeons and the girl inside it.
Azula didn’t know what it was about her that made her leach into her mind’s eye like she did. It made no sense to her. She’d tortured others before; they’d screamed their hearts out, and when they finally broke down, it had filled her with disgust to see them sniveling and crying all over the floor. It was ugly when they cracked, and their filthy selves spilled out all over the dungeon floor for her to see, until she couldn’t tolerate it any longer and tossed them aside.
When this girl screamed, it sounded like music. Azula could lose herself in the sweet innocence of her voice, and as soon as it stopped she wanted it to go on, only so that she could hear it’s haunting tone again. When she heard that girl cry out, the way she did it could almost make Azula feel her agony. She couldn’t get enough of it; the sound of it was addicting. So thick with suffering that she could feel it strangling her heart; breaking it, and reminding her that she still had one. No one else could scream like that. She didn’t sound ugly and disgraceful like all those others; she sounded pure and beautiful when she screamed, like someone putting thumbscrews to a chained angel.
Azula had been staring off into space as she thought about the waterbender-girl, with her chin propped up on the heel of her hand. She blinked, and immediately felt foolish. She uttered a quiet curse and threw herself back against the other arm of the throne in mild frustration. It was beginning to pluck at Azula’s last nerve that this girl, her prisoner, had all but taken over her mind. Who was the captive here? She was; the waterbender was Azula’s to command. She was in her dungeon, she was wearing her restraints, and she would have the scars that she had given her. She practically owned the girl.
No… She did own her. And she would not stand to be dominated, in any way, by her belongings. Especially not this trinket. She was the key to the Avatar; in her daydreaming she’d almost forgotten that detail.
Azula got to her feet, and strode toward the massive throneroom doors. Screw this. She didn’t care anymore about having some fun with the waterbender-girl. She needed to be reminded who was in control, who was the one with all the authority.
And it couldn’t hurt to remind the prisoner either… at least not too much…
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
(Chapter 5)
Azula all but tripped over her dishonored brother as she left the throneroom. She presented him with a disgusted glare and brushed hastily past him, focused intently on her destination.
“Azula. Where are you going?” Zuko’s voice inquired after her. The question had an underlying hostility to it that caught both Azula’s attention and her temper.
“The dungeons.” She snapped, with a look that dared him to pursue the subject any further.
“Why? You just came from the dungeon.” Zuko’s scarred eye was narrowed almost to a slit, and the aggression had not left his voice.
“I will do as I please, dear brother.” Azula said dangerously, then a sly look crept across her crimson lips. “Unless…” a definite malicious smile now occupied her features, “Does the prisoner really interest you that much? Do you find her special?”
Zuko almost snarled at her, but he said nothing. He wasn’t exactly sure of that himself, but that was the last thing he would willingly tell her. It was also the last thing that she needed to hear. There was no telling what she might do to Katara then. A slip of the tongue like that could bode somewhat-less-than-spectacularly for his own hide as well. He would sooner join the prisoner in the dungeons than answer Azula’s baited question. All he could do was stand straight-backed, fists and teeth clenched, and glare what he hoped was a look of aloof repulsion at his sister.
However, the gears in Azula’s brain had begun to turn. That much was apparent from the cruel amusement playing about her mouth. It lingered even after she had turned away from her foolishly loose-tongued brother and continued on her way to the dungeons, this time with something interesting to contemplate.
There was definitely something going on between the imprisoned waterbender and her incompetent brother. What this ‘something’ was, she couldn’t be sure. However, it promised to be both very entertaining, and very amusing. It tickled her darkly, tempting a malicious laugh as she walked down the corridor, but she restrained it in case Zuko was still standing stiffly where she had left him, watching her for anything that would betray her thoughts. At the end of the hall, she glanced back over her shoulder as she turned. Yes, Zuko was there, fixing her back with a glare that assured violence if she wasn’t careful. What a great game this will be, brother… I wonder what this will turn out like for you when it’s over… She laughed silently in her head and flashed him a broad, malicious grin just as she disappeared around the corner, and was rewarded with a look of confused alarm on Zuko’s scarred face as he watched her go.
The guards she had stationed outside the waterbender’s cell stood up stiffly as Azula approached, despite their nervous, strung-out appearances. She stopped in front of the windowless iron door, and instead, turned to the Dai Lee on her left. The goateed man almost jumped out of his skin.
“Has anyone else come to visit the prisoner since I left?” Azula asked with an evil sweetness in her words.
“Ye-Yes, Your Highness.” The earthbender obviously, and wisely, did not wish to be in the middle of a royal disagreement.
“Who?” Azula’s sugared tone gave the distinct impression that she already knew all about it; but she did love to see them squirm as they were forced to answer.
“Prince Zuko, Your Highness.” The tension in the Dai Lee’s deeper voice gave away his anxiety, so Azula turned to the other Dai Lee on the right.
“And what was Prince Zuko doing to the prisoner? Hm?” she could barely keep an evil smile from touching her lips as she snared the other guard with an authoritive look.
“Uh… nothing, Your Highness. He didn’t do anything to her.”
“Really…? You saw him just stand here and stare at her.” Azula raised one brow dubiously at the two edgy Dai Lee.
“Well… no, Your Highness.” They glanced nervously between themselves, “Prince Zuko went inside… and just looked at her. But then, he kneeled down closer and… touched her face… It was almost as if…” he couldn’t finish the sentence, but luckily for him, there was no need.
Unable to contain her glee any longer, Azula’s lips had curled into a wide grin. A quiet chuckle or two bubbled up inside her as she turned away from the two harassed Dai Lee, and started to pull back the bolt on the iron door herself. The earthbenders scrambled to open the door for her, babbling apologies that she barely heard as the grin on her red lips softened away to nothing more than a smirk. Now, it was time for what she had come here for: to share a little bit of gossip about the Avatar with his hostage lover…
Azula merely wrinkled her nose at the charred odor inside the cell and carelessly lit the torches from where she stood. The wavering light spread over the waterbender-girl, who had limped gingerly into the farthest corner and stood precariously balanced on her long, bare, weakened legs. She watched Azula pacing toward her with no hesitation at all, a mixture of repressed fear and defiance in her clear eyes. The waterbender pressed herself farther back into the corner with each step Azula took, as if she could merge with the iron walls and escape what was coming. Azula noted all this with smug pleasure, her cold gaze sweeping up and down her prisoner’s rag-covered figure, and finally coming to rest in the girl’s glittering blue stare from where she had stopped, their faces less than a foot apart.
The waterbender’s lovely brown lips curled back in a sneer, and those bewitching eyes, so very near to Azula’s own, glared into them from the frame of her dark wavy hair.
Azula paused for a moment, looking into the naive hate stabbing tentatively from the girl’s pretty eyes, and discovered an uncertain streak of what could be called akin to jealousy inside herself at the thought of Zuko touching the waterbender’s smooth almond-skinned face. It aroused a dark, subtle anger in her that she pushed indecisively aside, in order to do what she had come for.
“What?” the waterbender’s fair voice was full of forced bravado when she spoke, “What do you want?”
“Tell me… Where is the Avatar right now?” Azula said coyly.
“How should I know?” the girl’s glare intensified at the mention of the Avatar, and she snarled, “Why don’t you send your earthbender spies to find him.”
Azula smiled evenly; the bait had been taken.
“Oh, that’s not necessary anymore.” She shrugged dismissively for effect and made as if to turn away and leave the cell.
“What do you mean it’s not necessary? What did you do to Aang?” Azula could hear the rising panic in the waterbender’s voice even with her back turned.
A wicked grin flashed across her red lips. It was perfectly amusing.
Azula twisted lazily on her heel to look back at the shackled waterbender. She began pacing back towards the prisoner's corner again as she eyed her pretty, almond-skinned trinket with arrogance in her dark irises.
“What do you think happened to him?” Azula’s voice was low and taunting as she came closer, giving the poor girl’s imagination a chance to run rampant with nauseating possibilities. Sometimes the most horrible things in the world are from one’s own mind.
The waterbender’s clear blue eyes were wide and glassy as Azula watched her wild thoughts pass behind them, unseeing to the rest of the dim cell and the position she was rapidly finding herself in. Their azure-brightness flicked back and forth, back and forth, as she slowly took step after unaware step backward, no doubt assuming the worst, just as she had been carefully led to believe. Her softly captivating voice wavered precariously as she stared disbelievingly into space.
“Where is Aang? What did you do to him?”
The waterbender’s back bumped into the cold iron cell wall, breaking the spell of terrible thoughts, and she looked up with her glimmering blue orbs to find Azula standing over her with an eerie smile, her body unsettlingly close.
Time to deliver the crippling blow.
“The Avatar…” Azula said quietly, drawing out this moment of silent torture until she could see the desperation shimmering with the tears in the waterbender-girl’s entrancing eyes, “…is…dead.” She finished, something inside her fluttering painfully at the sight of the girl backed against the wall, with her dark waves of hair spilling over her shoulders, and sparkling blue eyes drowning with tears of despair.
A single drop rolled down the prisoner’s smooth almond cheek. She did not move or speak, her mouth partly open in her shock.
Azula’s gaze was fixed to that mouth, so tender and vulnerable and near. A great aching pull swept through her chest, so sweetly painful that she felt it crushing her. It was stealing her breath away, and all she wanted was to hear the waterbender’s voice cry out.
Sing for me… Make that beautiful sound again… do it because you are mine.
Azula leaned down and touched the sweet, caramel-brown lips of the waterbender with her own. They felt soft and trembling and delicate under her mouth, and the ache in Azula’s chest felt like it was filling out into her arms and torso and climbing her throat as it’s sweet agony swallowed her.
Sing… I want to hear your voice call out…
She wrapped one arm around the waterbender’s fragile waist and pressed her searing palm flat against her back, crushing the girl’s firm body against hers, and adding another burning scar to the others she had given her. Azula felt the cool lips beneath hers part wide and the waterbender cried in one swift wrench the agony of her jailer’s hand imprinting itself into the skin of her back.
The sublime aching inside Azula’s body soared at the sound of the waterbender’s suffering little scream, and she felt she was going to burst with it’s heat. She could feel the girl’s mouth breathing under her lips, and the painful ache gently ripping her open inside seemed to burst as she tasted their coolness and delved inside with one swift caress.
The sweet ache became a subdued pulse in Azula’s ears as she pulled back, feeling the waterbender’s heartbroken breath against her face, and watching a clear drop slide effortlessly down her other cheek. Nothing; not a word, not a sound. She may as well have been a breathtaking statue brought to life.
Her lips moved very slightly, “Aang…”
Azula suddenly felt all the sweetness in the ache disappear, and the crushing weight felt as if it would kill her if she stayed.
Leaving the waterbender to slump to the floor in a heap of rags and soft heartrending sobs, Azula turned and tore the flames from their torches with a violent motion of her hand, plunging the cell back into darkness, and fled the cold iron room with fast, hurried steps. Azula passed the two Dai Lee without noticing they were there, and continued mechanically down the line of cell doors and around the first corner without looking back.
The metallic grating of the prisoner’s cell door being barred echoed after her around that first corner. Azula stopped abruptly, and leaned against the iron wall as if the spell that were moving her had been broken.
So… her only thought was for the Avatar, that she believed was dead... The royal firebender had never acted so unreserved in her life, and that girl had the nerve to pine for another as if she did not even exist. As if she hadn’t been right in front of her, touching her. Azula had been so totally ignored, and the shame of it infuriated her. It burned an intangible lingering scar on her mind, much like the blistered silhouette of her hand on the prisoner’s back.
Revenge would be exacted for this. Someone was going to be torn apart while she watched. But it would not be her precious waterbender, now weeping inconsolably on the cold floor of her cell.
The Avatar was now wanted by the Fire Nation for an entirely different kind of reason than before, and the consequences promised to be grave.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
(Chapter 6)
General Iroh let out a disheartened sigh. Everything had gone so wrong; Azula had completely taken over Ba-Sing-Sei, Zuko had betrayed him and naively sided with the manipulating Princess, the waterbender called Katara had been captured, and the Avatar had been probably fatally wounded. Now here he was in a damp, drafty cave, doing his best to tend to the Avatar’s severe wound.
The boy hadn’t woken at all since they had escaped the tunnels of Ba-Sing-Sei, and the traveling had not been good for him. They had finally stopped about day’s distance from the conquered fortress, because it was beginning to worry the old firebender that the Avatar wouldn’t survive any more travel, and sought refuge in a small cave they happened upon. It was lucky they had found a place to spend the night, but even though the General was no doctor, he knew the Avatar could not stay here and live. The ground was cold, the drafts were strong, and food was scarce. The most Iroh could do was keep a fire going and search for any food that might be nearby.
He had just finished making a weak stew out of the meat of a single, scrawny-looking rabbit that he had been lucky enough to catch off guard, and had sat down on a large chilly rock to wait for it to cook, and to think about their options.
Hmph, how useless it was to be given the title of ‘General’. It meant nothing but ‘good at destroying’. A general is just a man who can find the craftiest ways to kill a lot of people at once, and take away the rest of the people’s free will. What good was that now? What good had it ever been? Is certainly wouldn’t be any help keeping the Avatar alive. If the boy were to have even the slightest chance of survival, they would have to find some real shelter. Iroh glanced over his shoulder, at the young boy laid out on the bare, freezing cold stone beside the cooking fire, with nothing to cover his wound or his feverish body. Well, the Avatar wasn’t able to go anywhere; he would have to go find some real shelter, and quickly.
After the sad little bit of stew was finished cooking and the Avatar had been made to swallow a few sips of the hot broth, the stout old man banked the fire. The sun was starting to go down, and he planned to start looking for a better place for the Avatar to stay immediately.
Iroh was less than a dozen feet from the mouth of the cave, when he heard something large rustling in the bushes. The seasoned warrior was upon it in seconds as it receded through the brush. It was either food or foe, and the best option for both was to attack it.
Whatever it was, it ran very quickly, and allowed not a single glimpse of itself between the leaves. It was getting difficult to see now that the sun was going down, and the thing sounded clumsy, the old man noted as he pushed himself to keep up, and it was impossible to tell how many feet it ran with because of all the underbrush it went crashing through. It also seemed to know it was being followed, because it suddenly put on a burst of speed and left Iroh even farther behind while the sound of whatever it was grew fainter. Suddenly the crashing stopped, as if it had reached a clearing in the woods, and Iroh could barely make out the sound of two feet running away. The old firebender’s keen mind began to work suspiciously as he continued to follow the fleeing thing.
It was only two legged?
If it was running on just two feet, it had to be a person that he was chasing; but the question was, who was it, and why was he or she running from him? Were they Fire Nation? Why would soldiers run from him when he was one of the Fire Nation’s most wanted outlaws? He was wanted for treason; the price on his head would undoubtedly be a high one. That amount of profit alone pretty much ruled-out the possibility of any pursuers running away out of cowardice. But what if they weren’t Fire Nation?
Iroh could see a clearing through the trees up ahead, just as he’d suspected, and despite the risk of it being a trap, headed straight for it. He burst out of the undergrowth between the trees and stopped.
It was too good to be true. It had to be.
In the middle of the clearing, sat a small cabin made from jaggedly-cut logs. It was just the kind of shelter that the Avatar needed, but it was too much of a coincidence. Iroh examined everything carefully with a suspicious eye. The ground looked to have been flattened by dozens of footsteps, as if someone had lived here for a long time, but the forest around the house ended so suddenly that this place seemed to have been cut right into the trees, recently. There were no little weeds starting to creep back into the circle of inhabited land. And the cabin itself was a whole other matter. Iroh approached it very cautiously, and snapped back the rough slices of bark that served as shutters. He relaxed; there was no one inside. There was only one room and a crude fireplace made of a slight pit dug right into the dirt floor, but it held no trace of ashes. One side of the room had a clumsy looking table and two thick logs sitting on their ends for stools. A shelf above the table held a metal pot, a wooden spoon, and a basket of what looked like dried meat. A large wooden chest sat on the floor below the shelf; like everything else, it was made of raw wood. It looked like it could have been lived in, but there was no dust on anything. And there were exactly two clean bedrolls sitting near the fireplace.
That proved it. It was a trap of some kind; Azula’s Dai Lee had to have been the ones that made this cabin. Only a team of earthbenders could clear an area of dense forest like this so well and so fast. And they had certainly gone through a lot of trouble to make it look abandoned, only to screw it up by placing exactly enough makeshift furniture for two people in it.
Iroh glanced up at the sky; it was almost dark out, and tonight would be cold. If the Avatar were to be moved here, he would definitely stand a chance of recovering. But Azula would surely know right where they were, if they didn’t already. Iroh almost swore out loud at his own foolishness. Of course Azula knew where they were, why else would he be looking at this cabin if she didn’t want them to use it! She knew that if the Avatar died, he would just be reincarnated again, so she must have had this place built nearby just to keep the Avatar alive, knowing that he would stay to nurse him.
The General’s mouth was set in a grim line as he tugged at his whiskers. And what action would Azula take when the Avatar was recovered? What would she do if the Avatar didn’t? There already wasn’t enough time left for the other nations. Allowing the Avatar to die and be reincarnated again was not an option, nevermind that he was still just a child.
Iroh glanced at the darkening sky again.
They were out of choices; the Avatar would have to be brought here, whether it was playing into Azula's hands or not. No matter what, the boy had to survive.
"You win." The old General cast a lingering glance around the clearing; “Tell Princess Azula..." Iroh growled, knowing full well that her Dai Lee were within earshot, "...her game was well-played.” and turned to go retrieve the Avatar as quickly as possible.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
(Chapter 7)
Zuko stood on the balcony of the palace of Ba-Sing-Sei as the last sliver of the red sun disappeared below the horizon, watching the city be plunged into abrupt, crimson tinged semi-darkness. The hot early-summer wind blew across the rooftops, toying with his red Fire Nation uniform and tossing his dark hair around his face. It was almost long enough now to tie back into a tail again.
It had been almost three months since Azula’s coup’ de tat, and the Fire Nation was building to take the other nations by swift, absolute force with the coming of Sousen’s Comet. Just as Azula had done in Ba-Sing-Sei, only on a much wider scale. The whole world was going to be overthrown.
And Azula was standing almost at the very top of it all; the next step would be to take the Fire Lord’s place.
Zuko spat over the railing on the city below, as if he could curse it all away. Screw Ba-Sing-Sei, he didn’t want any of this. All he had ever wanted was to be accepted again, but he was still just a pawn on Azula’s chessboard. What had made him think any of that would change if he joined the Fire Nation again? Why did Azula always win? Why did she always get everything she wanted…?
…And everything he wanted.
He remembered how after that first week, Katara had become another of Azula’s human toys. Zuko had visited the dungeons every night that week, late when Azula had already retired to her chamber. The two Dai Lee had let him in each time without so much as a word, and he had spent hours just watching over her. She was always huddled in the same corner, as far from the cell door as she could be, and never awake. She was always sleeping, as if her life depended on it, or as if she were hoping to never wake again. He had tried to wake her once, and only once, on the last night before Azula moved her from the dungeons.
He had been kneeling over her, almost afraid to touch her because of how fragile she had become, and had very hesitantly called her name. Softly at first, his voice sounding brittle and too loud inside the cold iron cell, then he put a hand on her shoulder, intending to shake her very gently. Zuko could still remember how thin and small her shoulder had felt beneath his hand; he could almost feel her wasting away. It shocked him a little every time he remembered it, but never as much as that first time. It had felt like someone had punched him in the chest with spiked knuckles, and his hand had started to shake. All he could do was look at her there on the floor, like a beautifully crafted glass just lying in shards, feeling that it was all his fault for not killing her that first night. That was what made the pain in his chest swallow him up. Knowing that he could have spared her all the suffering. If only he had done it when he had the chance…
Zuko had scooped her up then, off the icy iron floor. Oh Gods, she had felt so light and tiny when he held her, it was almost like she wasn’t really there, like she was all in his imagination. She was already so far gone.
I’m sorry… he wanted to say, I’m so sorry…
Zuko had cradled her close, so gently he thought he would drop her, and squeezed his eyes shut, the singed smell of her skin and hair in his lungs. She never moved at all, and breathed the same faint breaths that he could barely see or hear. When he opened his eyes and looked down at her, it terrified him to see how very dead she looked. Zuko had never been so afraid of anything in his life as he was then. He wanted to scream ‘Open your eyes, Katara! Please! Open your eyes!’ and rattle her awake, but he was so afraid that if he even moved, she would be gone. He couldn’t take seeing her as she was then; it was killing him inside.
Zuko had hunched over her, holding it all in with a clenched jaw, as he cradled her and stroked her soft, sunken cheek, and ran his fingers through her knotted wavy hair, and swore to himself over and over that he would protect her from now on. But it was lie, because the next day Azula came and locked Katara away in a gilded room, and Zuko hadn’t gotten near her since.
Something Azula had done had broken her will completely, and she just submitted to everything. Somehow, Azula forced her to start eating again, but she never spoke, or seemed to see anything that was around her, and she didn’t respond to anything except a direct order from Azula. Sometimes Zuko was only a few feet away from her, unable to say or do anything to try and comfort her, even looking at her for too long would have betrayed her importance to him. And Azula must have enjoyed sitting there, watching him glance at the waterbender out of the corner of his eye, while she stood or sat beside her mistress as if she were in another world, oblivious to everything. Azula’s amused leer would flick back and forth between the two of them, knowing full well what it was Zuko was trying so desperately to hide, and relishing in every second. Azula seemed to take it all to heart, and enjoyed herself at her brother’s expense whenever she could.
After all the fight had left the waterbender, there was no end to Azula’s doting on her pretty stolen treasure, even though the firebending restraints remained. She was given a chamber all her own, all but one of the doors locked from the outside, and guarded, and the only key was on a chain around Azula’s neck. Many times a day, Azula locked the two of them inside and wouldn’t come out for hours at a time. She ate all her meals in the locked room with the waterbender. She loved to dress her in beautiful robes and fine jewelry every day, and parade her all around the palace, but never outside it, as if she were the royal one. Azula even seated her on a wide fluffy cushion beside the throne like an obedient pet, while she gave orders and tightened her grip on the land beyond the city. And Katara would simply sit there, staring lifelessly into space, looking for all the world like a priceless manikin put on display behind invisible velvet ropes.
Everything had gone as planned. The world was falling onto Azula’s plate, and she had her beloved treasure to keep by her side as she ruled it. The last few pieces were coming into position, and at her order, they would be dealt with swiftly and mercilessly. The Avatar was one of those pieces. Her uncle was another. And her Dai Lee had also detected rumors of another member of the Avatar’s traveling-party that had gone missing since the coup’ de tat. A very young, blind girl from the House of Winged Boars, but an extremely skilled earthbender nonetheless. It was never a wise move to allow loose ends to crop up; they always made matters more complicated.
And Azula was not one to allow favorable circumstances to loosen her grip. She had given orders only a day ago to investigate this missing member of the Avatar-party in more detail; and as fate would have it, an urgent message was on it’s way, from the cabin where the Avatar had lain in a deathlike sleep for three months, slowly recovering from the lightning-bolt wound Azula had given him.
With that, the entire Fire Nation would discover that it takes only a single loose-tongued fool to tip the scales.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
(Oops... ran outta room. sweatdrop Continued in The Avatar Fanfic-Part2)
 Mitsukeru Furidomu · Mon Jul 30, 2007 @ 07:15pm · 0 Comments |
|
|
|
|
|
