1. Chapter 1

Prisoner of War

by

Looneyluna

Summary: Aang stopped Ozai from harnessing the power of Sozin's comet, but the war between the Fire Nation and the Earth Kingdom goes on. Zuko is Fire Lord and Azula is "banished" to fight in the North. Just when she thinks things can't get any worse, an Earth Kingdom general captures her. This is their story.

--

Chapter One

--

She was so tired. It wasn't the kind of tired that one got from lack of sleep. Her bones ached with wariness. And she was only eighteen! She shouldn't have these kinds of aches and pains, but commanding her ragtag group of men over the mountainous terrain would weaken a lesser man, much less a woman.

This was her punishment.

This was her exile.

There was no love lost between her and her brother. The war with the Earth Kingdom waged on, endless in its monotony. The opportunity to harness Sozin's Comet had come and gone. The Avatar had foiled her father's attempts to use the comet to end the war, and in doing so, had killed him.

Taking advantage of the chaos, Zuko had claimed the throne and the war had continued. Resentful and bitter, her brother had consigned her to the farthest command possible away from the Fire Nation. She was a figurehead, not meant to lead the ragtag band of misfits she had been saddled with. Zuko had sent her here to suffer. That petty bastard would never get over the fact that she had hunted him at one point.

The bastard! Azula couldn't blame Zuko, though. She would have done the same thing to him. Actually, she would have made sure that he met with some unfortunate end. Preferably a slow and painful one!

Squeezing the water from the sponge, she ran it over her body and shivered. The water was heated, but the air around her was not. Yes, there was a fire in the cast iron stove, but it did little to dissipate the chill in the air. As quickly as she could, she hurried about her bath, the luxury she missed most, and pulled her crimson robe on. She forwent her usual ornaments, opting to leave her long, ebony hair down.

Zuko hadn't even allowed her to bring a lady-in-waiting. She just hoped that she didn't die in this Agni-forsaken hellhole.

The blessed moment of tranquility ended as a panicked shout pierced the night. It was followed by other shouts and the horrendous sound of the earth being torn asunder. Tying her sash with a vicious jerk, she ran toward the tent flap. But she did not get very far as the ground beneath her feet gave way and the material of her tent came down upon her.

--

From his vantage point there wasn't much he could see. The moon was new and the night was dark. Only the light from the torches down below cast any shadows. The group of Fire Nation soldiers was small, according to his scout. It was actually quite insignificant, but they had been dogging his every attempt to cross the mountainous path. By the end of the night, they would no longer pose a threat to him or his men. They would be deadtheir carcasses impaled on spikes as a warning to anyone else who tried to follow them.

General Qiang spurred his ostrich horse forward to assess his men's work. Standing at six foot four, his mount was awkward as he moved over the rocky terrain. He would probably be better off walking to see the carnage. His mount stumbled and he cursed, climbing off the beast and hitting it on its hindquarters to send it back to his meager camp.

He was a lower-ranking Earth Kingdom general, sent into the mountainous range where the northern Air Nomads used to live. This was the place one was sent by the Council of Five when they were displeased with you.

Beneath his feet, he could feel the fissures of earth tremble as his men tore the enemy camp apart. The calls of mercy were growing fainter as his men slaughtered the Fire Nation soldiers. But it wasn't those calls that stirred or caught his attention. An unearthly scream tore through the night. He could see the flashes of fire and feel the heat as a Firebender defended himself.

"The other side," one of his men shouted. "Up there!"

Qiang's interest was piqued. Apparently, they had a Firebender in their midst and he was giving his men a run for their money. He so enjoyed a worthy hunt. Perhaps the man could provide him some much-needed entertainment. Moving toward the burning camp, he stopped in his tracks. Someone was up ahead. He could see the faint outline crouching in the brush. Perhaps it was his Firebender.

Giving his quarry a brief second to prepare, Qiang cleared his throat and rooted himself within his element. Hopefully, the duel would challenge him.

A soft gasp preceded the pale blue flames that caught the middle of his long black queue. The smell of singed hair assailed his nostrils as he kicked the ground and knocked his opponent down. Instinct dictated he strike while his prey was down, but the sound of a rather indignant feminine "umpf" reached his ears.

A concentrated fire blast headed his way and he blocked it with a wall of rocks.

"Over there!" a man called to the others.

The female shadow turned to run, but Qiang entrapped her feet with rocks. She stumbled forward, the root of her fighting stance broken and frail.

"Bastard of a whore!" she hissed, trying to crawl away. She kicked one of the rock-boots off and struck out with her free limb, causing him to take a step back. She kicked the other boot off and jumped up.

Centering himself, Qiang angled a column of soft earth toward her upper torso. As the light from her burning camp cast haphazard shadows about, he watched his opponent fall to the ground unconscious.

--

Moaning, Azula sat up. At least, she tried to sit up as best she could. It was a difficult thing to do since her hands were tied to a pole behind her back. She shivered, her tattered robe barely covering her modest feminine curves. Jerking away from the pole, she only succeeded in causing pain to shoot from her wrists to her shoulders. The material of the tent shivered high above her head as it protested the movement against one of its supports.

She heard laughter in the distance and froze as she studied her surroundings. The familiar red and black colors of her country had been replaced with the green and brown Earth Kingdom tones. The walls of the tent held no ornamental decorations. Instead, they were decorated with hides and skins of various animals in an effort to ward off the bitter chill of the region.

Much like her tent, there was a cast iron stove that did little to heat the room. There was a large pallet near the stove where the owner obviously slept, because the various pelts and blankets on top of it were strewn about in a haphazard manner. A large table took up the rest of the space in the tent. It was covered in scrolls, which covered a map of troop movements and tactics.

Studying the map, Azula noticed the region of mountains she had been consigned to as punishment for her transgressions. The mountains were a vast wasteland of peaks and valleys that offered very little in the way of strategic value. Why were they here? This area was no good to either side. Only Air Nomads would willingly come to this place and they were all dead with exception of the Avatar.

The entrance flap whisked into the air as her enemy entered the tent. As he stood to his full height, she had to crane her neck to look at him. The man cut an impressive figure. Her eyes darted to the suit of armor that hung on a mannequin in the corner. It was a general's armor – a suit that would protect the powerful lines of his broad shoulders and…

Azula gulped as she caught sight of the hair on his chest that peaked out from the deep vie of his robe. With exception to her father, she'd never known a man with such height. The men in the royal circles were short. Most of the generals in her father's court were graying or bald. The man before her was tall and hairy. Instead of the traditional queue, he wore his hair down, touching his collar.

"When you're done gawking, perhaps you would like something to eat, your highness," the man announced, the deep timber of his voice startling her from her blatant observations.

She looked to the ground, playing the role of captured consort to the best of her ability, which was difficult considering the fact that she had never played the role of weakling in her entire eighteen years of life. If they realized who she was, they would undoubtedly ransom her to Zuko. Once the ransom went unpaid, they would kill her.

Zuko sent her here to die. Of that, she was certain. Her brother's madness had endeared her toward him at first, but she should have known that Zu Zu would have turned on her. Yes, she had planned on betraying him when their alliance had served out its purpose, but he had gained the upper hand with father's death. Since neither of them had heirs, he had evoked the right of the first born. The council had had no recourse but to cede all titles and honors to her bastard brother.

The only satisfaction she had been able to take was that Iroh had died in prison before her brother could liberate him. Zuko's grief over the death of his beloved uncle had been most rewarding. Unfortunately, Iroh's death had sealed her fate. Zuko couldn't kill her, but he could make her life a living hell. So here she was, consigned to the ends of the earth, captured by some Earth Kingdom general that had obviously pissed someone higher up in his command off. Why else would he and his troops be here, in a mountain region that was so insignificant that it barely rated mention on most maps?

A piece of bread landed at her feet and she scooted away from it.

"You best eat while I'm feeling charitable, princess," the general stated, folding his arms over his chest and scowling at her.

She froze. That was the second title he had used while addressing her. Perhaps the secret of her identity had already been revealed. If she ever caught the betrayer, she'd turn him into a crispy critter.

He chuckled mirthlessly. "Right now, you are probably plotting vengeance on the poor soul who gave up your secret, Princess Azula. Rest assured, none of your men lived long enough to give away any state secrets."

Nudging the piece of bread with his boot, the general approached her.

Azula straightened, tugging on the ropes and hoping to free herself. Her short-lived role as insignificant Fire Nation consort died a quick death. The man knew who and what she was. There was no turning back. She met his gaze with hatred in her eyes. "Release me and I might let you live."

She was unprepared for his roar of laughter and it showed when she jumped.

"Your reputation precedes you, your royal highness," he bantered, tossing the flame adornment that normally sat on her topknot to her feet. "Between this and the few letters we found, it wasn't difficult to ascertain your identity."

"You should have burned these," he teased, waving the papers beneath her nose. "Now I know where to go to find willing women for my men. Even if they are Fire Nation whores."

Pulling on the ropes, Azula sneered. She almost had one hand out. All she would need would be one hand to kill the man. "I don't know how willing Mai would be, seeing as she's dead. Ty Lee, on the other hand is very flexible and would probably enjoy the work out, playing with your men before killing them."

Ignoring the pain in her wrist as she forced her wrist through the rope, she freed her hand and struck. The general caught her hand with little effort, the amusement leaving his eyes.

"I've already lost the symbol of my honor thanks to you. I had to cut what was left of my queue because of you," he sneered, running his other hand through his hair. "I do not wish to lose anything else of value, little Firebender."

Azula scowled at him. Up close, she could feel the heat from his body, which reminded her how cold she really was. She shivered and tried to extract her hand from his grasp, but he forced her fingers to his lips and tickled the fingertip pads with his warm breath.

The sparkle in his light green eyes was unmistakable.

She was familiar with lust. Many suitors had tried for her hand in marriage, but none had succeeded. Now they were missing a hand. Her father had raised her to rule, not breed the next generation. Watching the members of the Fire Nation court, she had learned that sex was a weapon just like everything else. She just had never used it as such before.

For one, sex looked uncomfortable. Secondly, it looked like only the man enjoyed it. Thirdly, she was much too busy to seek out a lover, much less care about the act. As he held her hand, she felt something – an ache she had never felt before.

"So am I not even to be ransomed? Did you go through the motions of murdering my men and capturing me just to rape and kill me? I'd say I'm flattered, but I'm not."

He leered at her, stepping behind her and twisting her arm behind her. Instead of tying her freed hand to the pole, he released her. "You should be flattered. I could just toss you out of my tent and let my men have you, but I have other plans for you."

She didn't know whether to be scared or not. Frankly, she didn't scare easily. She was conditioned to think things through…unlike her brother. Digging her numb toes into the ground, she tugged her robe into place and rubbed her wrists.

"And before you start burning down my tent, you may want to think about what awaits you outside my protection," the general growled threateningly. "Whereas you had a ragtag bunch of misfits at your command, I have fifty-eight highly skilled mercenaries under mine. Half of them are Earthbenders. Two of them are Waterbenders. Factoring in the possibility that you might be able to disarm my militia, it is highly unlikely that you could best thirty benders, and I'm not even including myself.

"Even if you did manage to get loose, you'd die of exposure." His gaze raked over her body, pointedly lingering on the gap of her robe, which gave him an unobstructed view of creamy flesh.

Closing her eyes, Azula rubbed her hands together and focused her Breathe of Fire into her extremities. She winced as her feet started to tingle. "If I had a say in the matter, I would rather die from exposure."

Circling her, he chuckled. "You can only die of exposure if you make it through me and my men."

"If I made it through you, I would own your men," she retorted hotly. He was behind her, the heat from his body touching her in a manner that was completely alien to her.

"I do so enjoy verbal foreplay," he murmured softly, his breath stirring her hair.

"So that's your big plan – rape me?" She almost stuttered. Her teeth were clenched so tightly that if she relaxed, they would chatter. Her stomach lurched as the lurid situation played out before her. Whatever she did, she would never show him fear. She would not beg. She would make sure that he suffered for his pleasure. She would never give the bastard the satisfaction.

His hand settled on her shoulder, gently rubbing the tense flesh and moving the material of the robe to the side. "It wouldn't be rape."

"Yes, it would." Azula shivered, the knots in her stomach growing tighter and tighter. Not that she was an overly sentimental sap, but she had envisioned so much more for herself than this. To fall from royalty to concubine in one fell swoop was debasing and demoralizing. "My body and favors are mine to give. If you take me against my wishes, that is considered rape.

"Then, of course, you've probably gone through your pathetic life, taking whatever you wanted whenever you pleased. That is your nature," she hissed softly.

The general moved the material of her robe to cover her shoulder. "And what would you know of the nature of man?"

Turning, she stared at him. "You can't help yourself. You're a slave to your basic needs. If you're hungry, you eat. If you're tired, you sleep. If you're…" Her courage faltered.

"If I'm what, princess?" he teased, moving away from her and opening a trunk.

"If you have an itch to scratch, you scratch it," she finished, using words that weren't as crass as her original thought.

"So what could I possibly exchange with you to gain your favor?" he asked, without looking at her. He pulled a pair of fur-lined boots and a pair of socks out of the trunk.

Azula glanced at the comfort items longingly. She didn't know how much longer she would be able to stand there. Her feet were already numb again and there was only so much bending she could use to warm them without actually burning herself. But she bit her lip and looked away.

"Kiss me and you may have your pick." He held up the thick socks that were two sizes too large and the shoes that were equally as large, his grin dancing at the corner of his mouth.

Folding her arms across her chest, she eyed him suspiciously. The man before her wanted something. She watched as he weighed the shoes in one hand and the socks in the other, but what she wanted was not being bargained – her freedom.

"A kiss for a promise," she countered his offer. "I'll kiss you if you promise not to rape me."

He gave her a feral look. "How do you know I won't take what I want anyway?"

"I don't," she replied, a knowing smirk gracing her lips. She knew one thing he wanted – her. That was weakness number one. _Exploit weakness and expose more_. That's what her father had always taught her.

Setting the boots and socks upon the table, Qiang stepped forward to receive his kiss. He should probably have his head examined. Every fiber of his being shouted for him to take her. It was within his rights. She was a prisoner of war, but she was also his ticket out of this place.

He had sent a message to his superiors. Surely, her capture would earn him a better command. All he had to do was wait for their reply and hope that his good fortune continued. In the meantime, he would entertain himself with the Fire Nation princess.

He had to give her credit. She didn't even flinch as she leaned toward him and placed her lips chastely against his.

His cold blood heated at her touch as he gathered her against him and demanded more than what she was offering him. Thrusting his tongue past her lips, he sought to taste her passion. Her scent assailed him, adding to the lust driving his plundering tongue. If a kiss felt this good, he dare not imagine what it felt like within the heat of her body.

Summoning the strength to pull away, Qiang scowled at his prize. She swayed against him, unconsciously licking her wet, swollen lips. With a vicious curse, he stepped back and picked up the boots and socks, thrusting them into her arms.

"Put these on before you get frostbite," he growled softly. "I can't have my prize prisoner dying. A dead prisoner tends to lose its value. A sick prisoner is even less valuable."

Azula grabbed the socks and boots and put as much distance between them as possible. She sat on the edge of his bed and rubbed her feet.

Turning away, he pulled a pien-fu out of the trunk and tossed the pieces to her. She said nothing as she yanked the socks onto her feet, the tumble of her dark hair hiding her face from his view. She set the boots to the side and gathered the trousers next to her.

Standing, she turned her back to him and pulled them on beneath her robe. With a disapproving sneer, she folded the top of the ensemble over her arm and gave him a pointed glare.

Were he a gentleman, he would have given her the privacy she seemed intent upon right now. But he was no gentleman. He grinned, silently challenging her to part with her modesty in front of him.

It was not a wise thing to do, for she rose to the challenge with the elegance she was born to. She untied her sash and removed her tattered robe, showing him what he could take by force if he wanted to. Bruises marred the perfection of her pale skin.

Shaking his head and ridding himself of his treacherous thoughts, Qiang moved toward the exit. "Stay in the tent. If you venture outside, you will 'entertain' my men. Is that understood? If you try to escape, you will be hunted and returned to camp. If you do that, no promise shall protect you."

--

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two –

"This gives sleeping with the enemy a whole new meaning," Azula grumbled under her breath as she listened to the snores outside the tent. On the bright side, at least she knew they were asleep. She had no idea where her "benefactor" was. He'd been gone for several hours and she had been left alone.

That was his first mistake and it would be his last where she was concerned. If that overgrown hairy monster thought she was just going to sit around and wait to be ransomed he was sorely mistaken. Now that she had clothing and proper attire for her feet she would be able to protect herself from the harsh winds as she escaped down the mountain.

His threats were meaningless to her. If they did anything, they only encouraged her behavior. She was born and bred to survive the rigorous demands of court. At her father's insistence, she had been taught survival and military tactics. As much as she would like to kill every man in this camp, she'd never survive the effort.

"Survival before vengeance," she muttered, looking over her shoulder toward the entrance of the tent. How she longed to burn their camp down and runaway, but that would only serve to let them know that she was loose. She needed to get a head start.

She could feel the sun rising as it crested over the mountain. It was still early, the morning after the raid. The general's men would be tired. After all, they had spent the night eating and drinking her supplies. At least, that is what she theorized.

Kneeling next to the back wall of the tent, she pushed her fingers beneath the heavy canvass and tried to lift it. There was very little give in the material so she would have to dig to get out. She could burn a hole through the material, but the smoke would alert them to her escape attempt. She'd cut her way out, but the general had taken all his swords and daggers out of the tent

Azula started digging, wincing as the heat from her hands abandoned her. The ground was cold to the touch. It was also rocky and hard. Cursing softly, she kept digging.

--

The sleeping guards snapped awake as Qiang walked through the camp and toward his tent. Slinging the carcass of the wolf bats from his shoulder, he dropped them next to the cook's tent and wiped the blood from his jerkin. The two men who had accompanied him on the hunting expedition did the same.

On queue, Jin Dee came out of her tent and inspected the offerings.

"Bah!" The middle-aged woman started cutting the wing off of one of the wolf bats. "You expect me to feed everybody with this scrawny thing?"

The men walked away, ignoring the portly woman's protestations. Only Jin Dee could get away with disrespecting him. He held great respect for the woman. How she managed to feed them all with the supplies that they had was beyond him. She was a real miracle worker.

"No," Qiang answered, his inflection dripping with sarcasm. He kicked the other carcasses with the toe of his boot. "I expect you to feed all of us with all of these."

Jin Dee gave an unladylike snort. "I'll try, but I'm not feeding the Fire Nation whore."

Scooping some water from a nearby bucket, Qiang gulped it and nearly choked. "We have to feed her, Jin Dee."

"Ah, yes." She spat on the ground and went about skinning the kills. "I hear her brother wouldn't pay a copper piece for her return. What's the point of feeding her if there's no reward?"

Heaving a sigh of longwinded patience, Qiang set the scoop into the water bucket. "Like it or not, we're going to have feed her until we receive a reply. That should take about two weeks."

Jin Dee scoffed.

"You can do it, Jin Dee." He flashed her a smile and walked off.

Nearing his tent, he stopped before he entered. "Any attempts to escape?" he asked the guard.

The guard nodded. "She's trying to dig under the canvass in the back."

Qiang chuckled, peering around the corner of the tent and acknowledging the guard at the back of the tent. "In all honesty, I'm surprised she hasn't tried to burn the camp down. I have to give her credit for her restraint."

The guard laughed and they both heard a soft curse from inside the tent. "What are you waiting on, sir?"

Smiling, Qiang counted beneath his breath. "I'm waiting for her to try to hide the evidence."

The guard looked straight ahead as he tried to stifle his laugh.

"Both of you can take a break." Qiang motioned to the guard at the back and the one in front of him. Stopping the one nearest him, he smiled. "See if we have a shovel."

"Sir?" The guard looked perplexed. "Why would we need a shovel? We have benders for –"

"I'm aware of who and what we have," Qiang snapped. "Find a shovel. The princess wants to dig, I'm going to put her to good use."

Flipping the tent flap up, he entered the tent and froze. The scene was almost comical. There she was, royal Fire Nation princess, sitting on her hands to hide the fact that they were dirty. She had a smudge of dirt on her forehead and one on her cheek.

He smirked, making his way toward his clothing. He stripped his bloody jerkin off and grinned as she averted her gaze. He tossed it into a corner and realized that it would be a while before the blood dried on the garment before he could work on cleaning it.

"So, what have you been up to?" asked Qiang nonchalantly.

He had to give her credit. Her gaze never wavered. She never looked at the misplaced hide that was tucked against the wall and ground to cover her work.

"I've been waiting for someone to bring me my morning meal," she replied haughtily.

Her attitude irritated him, reminding him how limited their supplies were. Of course, they had raided her camp and had stolen everything that they could. For now, he and his men were set. That would change in a few weeks when the winter winds would pick up and challenge them further. But to have her here, acting as though he and his men would wait on her…

That was the last straw.

Qiang stomped toward the fallen pelt and lifted it, exposing her handiwork. "Looks like you were trying to dig your way out."

There was no remorse or fear in her eyes. It was like she thought this to be some kind of game.

"Did you honestly expect me not to attempt an escape?" she asked with a sneer. "I don't care what you threaten. I'm going to kill you and everybody in this camp when I get the chance."

He grabbed the dagger from the sheath on his thigh and held the hilt of it out to her. "Oh really? Perhaps you would like to start with me, then."

She eyed the dagger warily, but made no move to accept it. Her eyes flashed with challenge. "I wouldn't need a dagger to kill you."

Shifting the ground beneath her feet and causing her to fall, Qiang sheathed his dagger and shoved her onto her back. He straddled her and pinned her hands above her head.

"Oh really?" he taunted menacingly. "It's a little difficult to Firebend with a broken root. That's why my Kingdom will win this war. We are the root of your power. Take that away and you have nothing."

She squirmed beneath him, twisting her head from side to side. Even dirty and disheveled, she appealed to him. Her lips were drawn into a sneer as she tried to kick him. Then she tried to butt her head against his – another effort he blocked with ease.

Seemingly realizing the futility of her struggle, she stilled beneath him.

"I hate you," she hissed, her gaze lingering on his chest.

"Oh really?" Smirking, he captured her lips with his and showed her the truth behind the crazy attraction between them. There was no teasing, no play as he made her face the truth.

Arching her back, she rubbed against his chest and sighed, her resistance wavering.

The heat pooled in his groin, making him ache with lust. If only she was his for the taking. Damn fate! Damn morality! Most of all, damn honor!

The kiss deepened and her tongue hesitated against his. With a feral moan, he tugged her hands to his chest and rolled them. Trapping her hands between their bodies, he grabbed her thighs and pulled her on top of him.

Once cradled between her heat, he rocked upwards and thought he would disgrace himself right then. Even through the layers of clothes, he could feel her heat – a heat no other man had known.

Fisting his hand in her hair, he continued the assault on her lips. But he'd lost sight of who he was actually punishing until she bit his bottom lip in retribution.

Feeling the sting of her bite, Qiang shoved her off and jumped up. He wiped the blood off his lip and grabbed her wrist. Ignoring the cold wind on his chest, he dragged her out of the tent and through the camp.

"Nolan!" he barked, jerking Azula's arm as he forced her through the tents and into a wooded area that reeked of waste. "Where's that shovel I requested?"

The guard who had been guarding the tent earlier ran after them with something that resembled a small spade.

"I apologize General Qiang, but this was all I could find," Nolan answered quickly.

The general tossed the princess to the ground next to the latrines. "It's good enough."

Azula tried to stand, but Qiang kicked her in the backside and she lost her balance.

"Stay down, your highness," he growled. "Or I'll bury you in this slop."

She froze like a statue. The only sounds she made were gagging noises as she tried not to embarrass herself.

"As for you waiting to be served your morning breakfast," he hissed, tossing the spade next to her. "You're going to have a long wait. You don't eat until you earn it.

"Congratulations, princess." He gave her ass another nudge with his boot. "You've earned yourself latrine duty. "Now cover up those holes and dig new ones!"

--

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three –

Her back ached. Her knees hurt. For the first time since she was a small child, she had hunger pangs. (She had learned at a very small age to eat what was put in front of you.) Most of all her hands hurt. Or they would hurt if she could feel them. But she kept digging and plotting of ways she was going to kill the general and everybody in his camp who had threatened to piss on her.

She'd spent a couple of hours sitting there, being silently observed by the guards. Once her captor had returned and had realized she was not complying with his order, he had threatened something worse than digging a latrine. He had threatened her with being the latrine. The thought of being pissed or defecated on had not appealed to her in the least and she had carried out his original order.

Azula stared at the ground, feeling the unfamiliar prickle of tears at the back of her eyes. Taking a shuddering breath, she willed them away. Tears were weakness. They were pointless. She would rather die before letting that bastard break her. He was going to die a slow and painful death before she was through with him.

A single tear streaked down her cheek as she watched the day cede to night. The sun was setting and so was any chance of escape. She would have to wait until sunrise so that she would have the advantage. Perhaps she would be able to hide the spade in the folds of her robe and kill the bastard general with it. Oh wait, she was going to kill him slowly and make him suffer. That wouldn't work at all.

Hearing the crunch of gravel behind her, Azula tensed. Her tormentor had returned.

"Take a break," he snapped at the guards, setting a bucket next her.

The guards walked away without looking back at the dirty Fire Nation princess.

Licking her dry lips, she eyed the water longingly.

"Drink," he commanded, nudging the bucket with his boot toward her.

She tried to grab the ladle, but it slipped from her cramped fingers and fell into the bucket, causing water to splash on her filthy trousers. She tried with her other hand, but met with the same end. Desperate to quench her thirst, she tried again.

Squatting next to her, he grabbed her arms and inspected her blistered palms. He cursed softly. "Why didn't you stop digging?"

Her eyes flashed with a bright fire, and she did not answer him, lifting her chin high and staring at a spot over his shoulder.

Qiang shook his head, scooped some water into the ladle, and held it to her lips. "Drink."

Oh, how she wanted to knock the ladle from his hand and cram it down his throat! But thirst overrode pride, and she did as she was told. The cool water was too good to pass up. She gulped it, afraid this was a cruel joke and that he would take the small luxury away from her.

Some of the water fell past her lips and dribbled down her chin and onto her tunic, but she didn't care. She didn't care about the mess she was making or the spectacle. She only cared about taking what she could. She only cared about surviving this nightmare. Once she had survived it, heads would roll…literally.

"You're a mess," the general announced.

"I wouldn't be a mess if you had just left us alone," retorted Azula.

He threw his head back and laughed. "You're kidding me, right?"

Azula glared at him, but held onto the ladle with the backs of her hands.

"You are aware we are at war, right?" he asked, gently extracting the ladle from her hands.

"Yes," she hissed.

"And you are aware that you are a prisoner of war, right?" he continued in a taunting voice.

His words rankled her. She wanted to kill him, but she nodded her head anyway. "You needn't remind me."

"You're right," Qiang replied. "I needn't remind you, but I will. I will remind you that you are a prisoner of war. As such, you are nothing more than property to be bartered, used, or executed. Should you fail to catch the ransom I suspect to collect for your pretty little head, I'll sell you and get some use of your miserable hide before I execute you."

His words affected her more than she let on. It was difficult having one's future spelled out in such harsh terms. The man before her had no idea that Zuko would never pay the ransom. She was chattel to him, a bargaining tool in which to use against her brother. In a way, she appreciated anyone who went up against Zu Zu. However, the idea of being a concubine, and then being summarily executed did not appeal to her in the slightest.

Setting the ladle and bucket to the side, he stood and took hold of her elbow. He tried to pull her up, but she sank to the ground as her legs gave way. With a disgusted grunt, he hooked his arms beneath hers and tossed her over his shoulder. "Smells like you need another bath."

"I was about to say the same thing about you," Azula grumbled against his back.

Carrying her toward camp, Qiang wiped the smile from his face. Normally he would accept such an inadvertent invitation, but he knew the woman across his shoulder would never welcome his lustful intentions.

The son of a prostitute, he was very familiar in ways of the flesh. He was also familiar with the concept of rape. He would never forget the look on his mother's face as she begged the man to stop. He was ill with fever and she had asked for time away from her duties. She had always tried to shield him from her life of shame, making sure that he never had to witness her degradation.

She pleaded with him to look away, but it was too late. The wealthy man had taken what he had paid the madam for. He didn't care that the prostitute's son was lying ill next to them. He had even joked about having him next.

That was the last joke the disgusting pig had ever told.

Once the pig had finished, his mother had gathered the folds of her robe around her, calmly climbed off the pallet, and walked out of the room.

Qiang hadn't seen his mother kill her customer. The fever had taken hold of him and he had slipped in and out of consciousness. By the time he came to, he was being shipped to an orphanage.

His mother had slit the man's throat and had committed seppuku so that the man's family could not demand her son's life in exchange for the life of the man she had murdered.

Rape was for the weak and cowardly. He had never raped anyone and he wasn't about to start now. But Azula did not need to know that.

Unfortunately, there were men under his command that did not feel the same regarding the young Fire Nation princess. Most of them were honorable men, but there were some that weren't. Perhaps capturing her was more bad luck than good.

She was his ticket off this Goddess-forsaken mountain. Unfortunately, he had to keep her alive and well while he waited for the messenger hawk to return with a response from the Earth King.

Goddess, he'd been so young and stupid. He'd spent his entire life, working his way through the ranks of the Earth Kingdom army. He'd had a promising career, earning his promotion to general at the tender age of thirty-two.

That was four years ago.

Six months ago, he'd stepped out of line and had called out a higher-ranking general after an important battle. The bastard was supposed to provide supporting troops to his, but they had never shown up. He had lost so many men that day due to that general's lack of integrity and honor.

The general's brother, not liking or appreciating the Qiang's tone, had consigned the rest of Qiang's regiment to the very ends of the Earth Kingdom.

He had dispatched a messenger to the Earth King, bypassing the normal chain-of-command, telling of Princess Azula's capture. He just hoped that the Earth King didn't order her immediate death. It would be a shame to waste such beauty.

"Maduk!" he called to an older man as he neared his tent. "Follow me."

The Waterbender followed him into his tent, the gleam in his crystalline eyes lacking any warmth or compassion.

Dropping Azula onto his bed with little ceremony, he turned toward Maduk. "Heal her hands."

His soldier quirked a black eyebrow at him. "Shall I spit on her or am I allowed to use water?"

Rolling his eyes, Qiang walked out of the tent to fetch the bucket of water. "I'll be right back."

She had little choice but to hold her hands out for Maduk's inspection as the man took hold of her wrists and turned her hands palm up.

She winced as the skin on her right hand split and started to bleed.

"So General Qiang did break you," the Waterbender stated solemnly.

So that was the general's name. She made no reply. Instead she schooled her features and looked over Maduk's shoulder. She wasn't going to look down. She wasn't going to play servant to the healer. It was bad enough that she had been subjected to what she had been subjected to. She wasn't even going to wait for the sun to rise. She was going to kill General Qiang as soon as she could.

"He is wise to keep you in his tent," Maduk continued, seemingly unperturbed by her lack of response. "You're safe with General Qiang. There are some men in the camp that wouldn't think twice about--"

Qiang walked back into the tent and set the bucket next to the Waterbender. "There's more water on the way. It shouldn't take too much to bathe her."

Maduk gave Qiang an incredulous look. "I'll heal her, but I'm not going to bathe her."

"I'll bathe myself, thank you very much," Azula bit off.

Cupping the back of her neck, Qiang bent toward her and hissed against her left ear. "Learn humility, Princess Azula, lest I teach it to you the hard way. I would have thought you would have learned something from your day of hard labor. Apparently, I was wrong.

"This isn't a luxury spa for your enjoyment. You're getting a bath because I wish it. I do not wish to bed down with someone who smells as you do. You'll eat when I eat and you'll sleep when I sleep. You'll bathe…after I bathe!"

She looked down, markedly accepting her low position.

"Heal her hands," he instructed Maduk. "Then leave."

"Yes, sir," the Waterbender replied, bending water from the bucket and focusing it on her raw hands.

Feeling the cold water caress her palms, she sighed in relief. Yes, there were other parts of her that ached, but she wasn't about to give Qiang or the Waterbender the satisfaction of knowing.

Finished, Maduk gathered the bucket and exited the tent.

The general circled the bed like an angry predator.

She kept her head low, not easily capitulating to his authority.

"There is no escape, Azula," he rasped. "Accept your fate and stop struggling. It will be easier for you if you do as you're told."

She smirked, hearing the husky quality of his voice. He was angry and unbalanced. Unbalanced equaled weak. Brazenly, she reclined on the bed. "Do I look like I'm struggling?"

He pounced, pushing her into the pelts. "Don't make an offer you have no intention delivering on, your highness."

Taking her hand in his, he pulled it against the thick bulge of his pants. "I may decide to ignore your protestations and take what is rightfully mine."

She tried to pull her hand away, but he was relentless. The newly healed skin on her palms was sensitive. She could feel the flex of his muscles beneath her hand and felt shame heat her cheeks. "I will never belong to an Earth Kingdom bastard."

He lowered his head as if to kiss her, but rubbed his whiskered cheek against hers, effectively marking her as his.

"Never is a long time, princess," he whispered, his breath caressing her cheek. "Are you sure you can hold out that long?"

--

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Azula didn't know which was worse, listening to the bastard breath or listening to her stomach growl. She'd have to go with listening to him breath. Not only was his breath hot against her neck, but her captor held her against him as if she would flee at any moment. Given the chance, she would.

Yes, Qiang had given her something to eat. It had been difficult to chew and tasted like tree bark. But it was food nonetheless, and she was going to have to accept what she could get to keep her strength up.

She growled lowly, closing her eyes and trying to sleep. But sleep would not come. The taunting lilt of his voice echoed in her mind.

After the "meal," she'd had to suffer through a bath. She held no aversions to bathing. In fact, she rather enjoyed the process. But the bastard hadn't left. He hadn't done the gentlemanly thing and given her privacy. He hadn't trusted her to leave her in peace. Then, adding insult to injury, he had made her help him pour the water for his bath.

He had tied her up while he had bathed. She'd stood there, wrapped in a thin robe that he had produced from his trunk, her hands tied behind her back, the heat in her cheeks betraying her embarrassment.

"_It's a pity that you are tied up_," Qiang had said, going through the motions of his bath as quickly as possible. Even though she had heated the water, it had cooled quickly. _"I could use someone to scrub my back._"

She wasn't about to tell him that the water would have stayed warm if she were in it – the added benefits of Firebending. So she had been forced to watch him as he went about his ablutions. Well, she hadn't actually been forced… She could have turned away, but she hadn't wanted to give him the satisfaction.

As he had gone about the business of washing his back, Azula had noticed the old scars. She had seen scars like that on her whipping girl. (Whenever she had misbehaved, a girl had been whipped in her place. It was the royal way of doling out punishment. Totally ineffective, in her case.)

As he had disrobed, she had averted her gaze, but she hadn't looked away in time when he had climbed out of the metal tub. Her gaze was riveted to the sight of his impressive manhood as the water ran down his body.

He had laughed at her, taking great pleasure as the heat stole into her cheeks. Her captor had dressed in loose-fitting trousers and nothing else.

So here she was, forced to sleep with her enemy in a thin robe and little else. The man knew exactly what he was doing. He knew she couldn't escape like this. Giving the blanket an angry yank, she shivered.

Grinning, Qiang kept his breathing even. He didn't want to let her know he was awake. He didn't want to give her the satisfaction of keeping him awake. Truth be told, he would like nothing more than to kick her out of his tent, but that would be like tossing blood into the water to attract an Unagi.

Though he trusted his men with his life, there were some that he didn't trust. Those would use his captive in a brutal way. No one deserved to be used in such a manner – not even her.

At least that is what he kept telling himself. She was soft and warm. Goddess, she was warm. The scent of the soap clung to her neck as if she hadn't rinsed it off. He wondered what she would taste like. The thought caused him to ache painfully and he groaned.

She gave the blanket another vicious yank and tried to pull away from him, but he only pulled her back against him.

"Let go of me," she growled, stiffening against him.

Innocently brushing the back of his hand against her breast, he could feel the peak of her nipple and took great satisfaction knowing that she wasn't as unaffected by their nearness as she seemed to be. "Are you sure you'd like for me to do that?"

Trying to wiggle free, she hissed.

Taking the initiative, Qiang slid his hand beneath the fold of the robe he had given her and cupped her breast. He rolled the nipple between his callused forefinger and thumb. "It doesn't feel like you want me to let go of you."

She shivered beneath his touch, unknowingly rewarding him with a sharp intake of breath. Her hand covered his. She hated this man. She should slap him away, but her resolve was missing as unfamiliar longings churned in her gut.

Emboldened by her response, he slid his hand lower across her ribcage and onto her stomach. "In fact, it feels like you want me to hold you."

Azula could feel the flame of humiliation in her cheeks. She felt so betrayed, so alone. She wanted to deny him, but at the same time she wanted him to touch her. She turned onto her back in an attempt to dissuade him.

"Please," she breathed, her voice catching.

"Such pretty begging," he rasped, moving his hand lower across the trembling muscle of her stomach. "How can a man resist?"

She wanted to say no, but the words stuck in her throat. Bitter tears trailed down her cheeks as she turned her head. The irony of this moment was not lost on her. She had been horrible to her father's concubines, taunting them about their status. Now she was no better than they were.

With the loss of her virtue, the physician would deem her unfit to sire the royal heir. Not that motherhood appealed to her. Her "husband" would have paid a hefty sum for her virginity. Zuko was going to be livid once he discovered that she wasn't worth the food it took to keep her alive.

Mentally, she scoffed. _Serves the bastard right! It's not like he's going to pay the ransom anyway._

Agni, how her fate had changed! Her fate was to rule. It was her divine right, not her brother's! Why had her father lifted his banishment? Days! It had come down to a matter of days – her father's forgiveness of Zuko, then his death at the hands of the Avatar.

Zuko's claim to the throne had sealed her fate. Now she was relegated to the role of royal broodmare, much like her mother.

The only light in the tent came from the cast iron stove, and the light was not enough to illuminate the lust in his eyes. Brushing his hand lower, Qiang touched the effeminate silken curls. His member strained against the material of his pants. He thrust against her hip, trying to ease the ache.

No repeated in her head like a desperate chant, but the soft whispers of yes could no longer be ignored.

Nuzzling her neck, he sucked and bit the tender skin. His entire existence was focused between his legs. Goddess, he wanted this woman, but knew that he could not have her. She was meant for someone else…something else. Her pedigree alone should dissuade him. The royal blood that ran through her veins was meant for another.

Perhaps his king would take her as a concubine or his wife.

The errant thought was enough to make his blood run cold. Her knees were clamped tight. Even though she said nothing, her body said no. The pleasurable path he would gladly journey was not to be. He would not rape her.

Inhaling sharply, he pulled the sides of her robe together and rolled away. His back to her, he closed his eyes and prayed for self-control. "Go to sleep, Princess. Your lesson is over."

She didn't know whether to be grateful or insulted. The strange ache in her nether regions mourned the promise of his touch. Wiping her tears away, she turned toward him, stared into the darkness, and shivered.

"Tomorrow you'll earn your keep," he said softly.

Azula winced, wondering what he had planned.

--

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five –

If it weren't for the fact that her stomach felt hollow, Azula probably would have vomited in the pot of sloop that she was currently stirring. All in all, this was much better than digging latrines… with the exception of dealing with Jin Dee, the cook.

The woman had made her opinion of Azula perfectly clear. She hated her. Of course, Jin Dee probably hated her because she was in her kitchen tent. Apparently, this was a domain that even Qiang dare not venture into.

"…My tent," the older woman grumbled, slamming pots and pans around and glaring at Azula.

Biting the inside of her cheek to keep from telling the old hag off, Azula looked down and dutifully stirred the stew.

"Help?" Jin Dee railed. "More like a hindrance!"

Azula blew the hair out of her face and rolled her eyes. Hindrance? How could she be a hindrance? She was stirring a pot of garbage for Agni's sake!

"I can't believe he saddled me with you. I have men to feed. I don't have time to baby-sit a spoiled princess," hissed Jin Dee, gathering some chopped roots and tossing them into the stew.

The hot stew splashed onto Azula's tunic, and she dropped the ladle into the pot. "Maybe feeding the men wouldn't be so difficult if you would stop bitching and accept the help you have been offered."

Jin Dee stared at Azula as if the Fire Nation princess had sprouted another head.

"That's it!" the portly woman screeched, swinging a heavy pan toward Azula, who easily dodged the attempt on her life. "Get out!"

Running from the tent, Azula skidded to a halt. There was a small group of men huddled around a fire. The look in their eyes was predatory. She felt a shiver of trepidation crawl up her spine. A few of them even licked their lips as though she were on the menu for lunch.

"I'm not a your keeper!" Jin Dee screamed as she gave chase with a pan.

Azula wasn't as lucky as before. The band of men moved toward her as she backed into the cook. She heard the swish of displaced air as Jin Dee swung the pot toward her heard. Surprisingly there was no pain or sound as she slumped to the ground.

--

"You didn't even give her a chance!" a male voice boomed angrily, making Azula's head throb even more. Her eyes felt as though they were weighed down with lead. She tried to sit up, but her body also felt like it was leaden.

"Bah!" a feminine voice retorted. "I am not a baby-sitter. She was incompetent. She dropped the ladle into the stew!"

"Was that before or after you bashed her upside the head with the pan?" Qiang asked.

"What difference does it make?" Jin Dee retorted.

Qiang sputtered at his cook's irreverence. May the Goddess save him from the crazy woman! She was one of the few people he trusted, much less liked. He let Jin Dee get away with things other people wouldn't dare.

The Fire Nation princess was too valuable to harm. Should the Earth King want Azula for himself, she would need to be brought before him unharmed. Was he the only person who realized this?

"The difference is our ticket out of exile, Jin Dee," he growled softly.

Azula would have grinned as the knowledge sank in, but it hurt too much to do so.

"If you kill her, she is useless!" Qiang chastised.

"Bah!" Jin Dee scoffed. "If she were to die, there wouldn't even be enough meat to add to the stew."

With the patience of a benevolent monk, Qiang dismissed the crazed cook and cursed.

Azula could hear his movements through the half-delusional ramblings of her own thoughts.

"What am I going to do with you?" he asked, kneeling next to her and pressing a cold compress to large bump on her forehead.

Azula winced, opening her eyes and smiling weakly. "You could always let me go."

Qiang chuckled softly. "I'm afraid I sealed your fate once I sent the messenger to the Earth King, little princess."

"Careful," she teased the delusion, closing her eyes to prevent seeing the two Earth Kingdom generals. "If you're nice to me, I might take advantage of you."

He cleared his throat, making no reply. Days were shorter this far north and the sun was already setting in the sky. His hunting expedition had been recalled due to Jin Dee's attack on Azula. He had a cook that wouldn't tolerate her, men that wanted to kill her, and men that wanted to brutalize her before killing her. Either way, he had come to the realization that he would just have to keep her with him at all times. He wouldn't be able to let her out of his sight.

Her head hurt. It felt swollen, as if someone had hit… oh wait! Someone had hit her upside the head!

"What happened?" another familiar voice questioned in the foggy tunnel of her mind. It sounded like the Waterbender who had healed her hands the night before.

"Jin Dee –"

"Say no more," Maduk responded, taking over care of the concussed royal. "I dared to enter her tent one time and met with one of her pans. I had double vision for a week. You should allow her on the battlefield, Qiang. Jin Dee would be a formidable foe with her pots and pans. They can be deadly weapons."

Qiang grunted as he watched the Waterbender heal Azula.

The fog that had smothered her reality receded as the cold water coursed through the wound. The throbbing sensation stopped and the urge to vomit grew less. The heat and the swelling abated, and Azula opened her eyes. Aside from a little dizziness, she felt much better.

The healer looked down his hooked nose at her, his dispassionate gaze raking over her. Qiang stood behind him. "Is she going to be all right?"

Maduk arched his eyebrow. "Do you doubt my abilities?"

There was annoyed concern in the general's green eyes. Concern? Ah yes. Concern for his captive… Concern for his "ticket out of exile." Manipulative to the core, Azula smiled at her bastard captor.

"Wh-where am I?" she asked, blinking up at the healer and general.

"You're in my tent," Qiang answered quickly, stepping to the side and moving the bucket of water Maduk had used to heal her out of the way.

Azula stared at him, her gaze blank, giving nothing of her true self and motives away. "Who are you?"

The Waterbender sat back on his haunches and shook his head in disbelief.

"What do you mean, 'who am I?'" Qiang set the bucket down and started getting ready for bed. The sun had set and the cruel winds of the mountains were howling outside. He yanked his belt off and started to undo his tunic.

Hiding her smirk behind the blanket of fur, she struggled not to laugh. She didn't know if her acting skills were up to the challenge. She would bide her time to plan her escape, for time was not something she was afforded as a prisoner of war.

"Whoever you are, I would appreciate it if you would stop disrobing in my…" Azula scanned the contents of her surroundings and clutched the blanket like a timid virgin. Virgin yes. Timid never. "Tent? Why am I in a tent? Where am I?"

The healer knelt next to her, grabbed her face between his hands, and peered into eyes. She tried to jerk away, but he held firm. "Jin Dee must have hit her harder than we thought. She is healed. She won't die from her injury, but there seems to be some unforeseen damage that even bending can't fix."

The general shouted a string of explicatives that would make a pirate cringe.

"Injury?" Azula did her best impression of playing dumb, which was difficult for her, seeing as it wasn't something she was accustomed to. "Bending?"

Qiang pointed at her as if she were something distasteful. "She's faking it! She's lying!"

The general was right not be believe her. Given the chance, she would kill him with glee. He would never buy into her convenient memory loss. Maduk was still examining her. Sniffling, Azula called upon the years of practice she had and summoned tears. (Her mother had always been a sucker for tears.)

"Why does my husband look at me like that? Why does he yell?" She opened her eyes and let the crocodile tears flow down her cheeks.

"Husband?" Qiang shouted, as Maduk roared with laughter and let her go.

"I am no one's husband, Princess Azula," he hissed, advancing toward her and pulling her off the bed. "Now stop this foolishness at once or I will punish you."

The sudden movement caused the room to spin, and the nauseous feeling returned to her with a vengeance. Her stomach churned, the meager contents in it refusing to yield to her command. The vomit was bitter tasting and burned. She watched in horror (and great satisfaction) as the contents of her stomach splattered onto the general's chest and stomach.

Qiang jumped back, spitting a string of imaginative curses. She stumbled backwards, falling onto her backside and continuing to "cry."

"I'm so sorry," she whimpered. I Agni! I really am going to be sick. Playing the part of a simpering fool is disgusting. /I "I didn't mean… I didn't mean to be sick all over you."

Qiang grabbed a cloth, dipped it into the water, and started to clean himself off. He'd been splattered in blood. Had held the entrails of his enemy in his hands. But this was just disgusting! "You are going to pay for that."

"General!" Maduk stepped between Azula and Qiang. "May I have a word with you in private, sir?"

Azula spit on the ground, trying her best to get rid of the taste of the vomit. She despised weakness. She hated being sick. She hated being helpless.

Qiang growled and stomped out of the tent. Maduk followed.

Crawling toward the water bucket, Azula scooped some up and swished it around in her mouth.

"What!" she heard Qiang bark and leaned closer to overhear the "private" conversation. They were right outside the tent. It wasn't like anything was really private here anyway.

"I think her injury and obvious confusion are genuine," Maduk stated, his inflection flat and matter-of-fact.

"She is scheming," Qiang countered. "She's a manipulative royal who has seized upon an opportunity to make us think she is impaired. And if she is still injured, why haven't you healed her? You should heal her! There's work to be done. I won't tolerate her lazing about as if we are her royal subjects."

Azula grinned. She had to give him credit. Qiang wasn't stupid.

"I have healed her," Maduk retorted. "Head wounds are always difficult. It isn't as though I can open up her head and pour water on her brain. Frankly, I'm sick of healing her."

Qiang exhaled in frustration.

"She still has a mild concussion. Once all the swelling goes down, maybe she'll be all right." The Waterbender tried to calm the general.

"She better be all right," Qiang replied. She could see his shadow through the wall as it paced back and forth. "She's our ticket out of this place. If the Earth King wants her for himself, how am I going to explain this? 'Please accept my humble apologies your Highness. The woman that you want as your concubine doesn't remember who she is. My cook hit her upside the head with a pan, and she hasn't been the same sense.'"

Azula smothered a laugh. She was so going to make the bastard suffer.

Maduk's shadow shifted. "You could always execute her."

Just when she thought she was starting to like the healer…

"That's probably what the Earth King will do with her anyway. It isn't like she's attractive. Her figure is passable, but her eyes are too close together."

Qiang stopped pacing. "What are you going on about, old man?"

"Or you could execute her and tell the Earth King that she died while trying to escape," Maduk continued. "Or you could say you didn't get the reply. Chances are the messenger hawk got lost anyway. It isn't like they are the most reliable form of communication."

"I'm not going to kill her," Qiang insisted.

Azula heaved a sigh of relief.

"What I don't understand is why she thinks you are her husband," Maduk theorized. "Why not me? I'm much more attractive than you."

Azula snorted in disgust. The Waterbender was delusional.

"Quiet!" Qiang hissed. His shadow was like a lethal statue, frozen as if to strike the enemy.

She crawled away from the tent wall, her heart pounding. She had come too far to blow her ruse now. She needed to think of something quickly. Looking around the tent, she made her way toward the bucket of water and the large tub that her "husband" was sure to bathe in tonight. Standing on shaky legs, she poured a small amount of water into the tub and the rest of it onto the ground. She sat down and started to "weep."

The general entered his tent, unprepared for the sight before him.

"I'm so sorry," the once-petulant princess sniveled. "I didn't mean to spill the water. I'll fetch more. I thought you might like a bath since I was sick all over you. I'm just so dizzy. Everything is so fuzzy."

Qiang rolled his eyes. The puddle on the floor was testament to her "attempt" to serve him. The Fire Nation princess clutched her stomach and gagged. At least he was across the room this time. She gathered the hem of her shirt and started to dab at the puddle.

"For the Goddess' sake! Stop!" he yelled, walking toward one of his trunks and tearing through its contents. "I'll have one of the men clean that up. Shit!"

Azula "cowered" before him, touching her forehead to the cold ground. "I'm sorry, husband."

He ignored her, digging through another trunk and cursing again. "There isn't anything left. You've soiled everything I have. You'll just have to sleep without clothes."

She snapped to attention. "I can sleep in this. It isn't soiled. I –"

Inwardly, Qiang smiled and wondered how long it would take for the princess to show her true colors. "It is wet, and I do not wish to sleep with a wet wife."

He crossed the room slowly, like an animal scenting its prey. Running the back of his fingertips along her cheek and column of her throat, he smiled. "Don't worry, Azula. I know that you are ill. I would never demand that you attend to your wifely duties while you aren't feeling well. When you are well, you will serve me well."

--

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six –

_Play dead. No, no! That's not right. Play dumb!_ Azula commanded herself. Qiang, the bastard Earth Kingdom general, had called her bluff. Uncle Iroh had learned long ago never to play Pai Sho with her. When he bluffed, she would always burn his lotus tile. Her captor was about to learn a very harsh lesson.

"As you wish, _husband,_" she murmured through gritted teeth and started to unbutton her clothing. Staring into his green eyes, she disrobed. The lust in his gaze was unmistakable as she bared her breasts, the nipples tightening in protest against the bitter snap of the nighttime air. Her courage faltered as she went to remove her pants, and she turned around to shimmy out of her trousers. They pooled at her feet, and she stepped out of them, beating a hasty retreat to the bed.

Rubbing his cock through his trousers in an effort to ease the ache, Qiang bit his bottom lip. As Azula lay on her side facing away from him, he thought he might disgrace himself. It would be so easy… spreading her legs and sating the hunger that drove him to distraction. He could just imagine the tight velvet grasp of her channel as it milked his aching flesh. He could just imagine waking up in her arms with her as his blanket… the subtle shift of her hips and his, and how he would be buried balls-deep within the hot confines of her body.

But she wasn't meant for him. If the Earth King demanded her head on a platter, Qiang would give it to him. If the Earth King wanted to bed her in front of the royal court, Qiang would deliver her.

A pang of jealousy wormed its way into his thoughts. He shook his head and tried to banish it. One did not develop emotional attachments to one's prisoner, no matter how delectable said prisoner looked without a stitch of clothing on. Jealousy mixed with anger. He had obviously underestimated the princess' resolve. She was set on seeing this ruse to its end, and he would be more than happy to call her bluff.

"I'll be right back," he announced before walked toward the tent flap.

Azula watched the flex of muscles in his back as he walked out of the tent with a satisfied smirk. "Coward."

She yanked the furs over her body and shivered. It was much too cold to be parading around camp naked. Her stomach growled, reminding her that she had yet to eat anything that day. It was a sensation she was just going to have to get used to. Qiang obviously wasn't much into feeding his prisoners.

The tent flap opened and a parade of soldiers filed in. Some of them glanced her way, while others paid her little attention as they carried water buckets back and forth to the iron tub for their general's bath. At least she was lucky that the man bathed on a regular basis. Just as the last soldier left, her _husband_ returned with two bowls of food that made her mouth water. Even the slop that Jin Dee served sounded appealing.

Qiang grinned. It hadn't taken Azula long to cover up once he had sent his men in with the bath water. He just hoped that his _wife_ remembered how to Firebend. He hated cold water for his bath. He set the bowls down and pushed one toward her. "I got broth for you, seeing as your stomach is unsettled."

Yanking the pelt off the bed, she wrapped it around herself and approached the table. "Thank you."

She sat across from him, desperation and hunger pangs overruling her acting abilities. She grabbed the bowl, not caring that it burned her hands. Her hunger was too great to ignore. She gulped the hot liquid, dribbling it down her chin in her haste. She eyed the bread on his plate with undisguised envy. "M-may I have some bread please?"

Qiang smothered his grin. Maybe she was delusional. For her to humble herself was totally out of character. Unfortunately for her, he still wasn't sold on her performance. Feeling charitable, he broke the bread in half and handed it to her.

"Thank you," she replied, breaking a small piece off, popping it into her mouth, and chewing it thoughtfully. Hunger was a humbling experience.

Using his bread to scoop up the remnants of his meal, Qiang pushed away from the table and held his hand out to her. "It's time to bathe."

Azula looked at his hand as though it were a venomous snake and choked on the bread that she was chewing. "I… I'm… not feeling well, my lord."

He bit back his laugh. Such courage… such cunning… and she was going to back down know? "A bath will make you feel better, my love."

"B-but the water is cold," she stammered.

"You haven't forgotten how to Firebend, have you?" Qiang questioned, gently pulling her to her feet and pushing the fur from her body.

She shivered against him and met his challenging gaze. The bastard had an answer for everything. She studied the oval tub with trepidation and anticipation. She longed for a bath.

He tugged on her hand, leading her to the aluminum contraption. "I'll even wash your back," he purred seductively.

She dug her heels in and made a grab for the blanket of furs that had been her only protection from his lustful gaze. "I thought you were to go first."

He chuckled, gathering her hands in his. "We'll bathe together. You find the experience quite pleasurable."

"We can't possibly fit in… that." Azula struggled to breath. Her heart raced. She was freezing, yet she was burning up. Perhaps she was ill. What was wrong with her? Why did his words send shivers of pleasurable tingles throughout her body?

"Trust me." Qiang grinned, pressing her palms against his chest. "We fit."

She could feel the fire of blush in her cheeks as she flexed her fingers against his hair-covered pectorals. Agni, this felt decadent.

He hissed and covered her hands. He ached to possess her, but his duty would not allow such a dalliance. Guiding her hands to his trousers, he stared straight ahead. "Undress me, _wife_."

"B-but I'm ill," she sighed breathlessly, her exhalation brushing the skin of his chest. "We can't possibly…"

Qiang hid his triumphant smile and _helped_ her divest himself of his trousers. Hopefully, he maintained some of his sanity after this exercise. "It's just a bath, princess," he groaned and pressed his cock against the silken surface of her stomach. He bit back a curse.

Azula shivered, whether it from the cold or the desire, she wasn't sure. "Just… just a bath," she repeated.

"Heat the water, Azula," he commanded huskily. "If you start to feel better. Perhaps we shall indulge in more than a bath."

Agni, she wished she could puke on him again. But her stomach was blissfully sated. He was going to keep pushing her until she folded and admitted her deception. Well, he was going to be sorely disappointed. "As you wish, _husband_."

He had to bite his lip to keep from crying out as he watched her heat the water. The fluid grace of her stance had him rock hard and aching. She tested the water with her hand and backed away. "I hope the water meets with your satisfaction."

Qiang captured Azula around the waist and pulled her against him. "I'm sure it will."

She squeaked in protest as he climbed into the tub and settled her onto his lap. Water sloshed over the sides, giving way to displacement. Her _husband_ wasted no time, grabbing the soap and lathering up in his hands.

Azula was awash in new sensation. The feel of his manhood nestled against her fleshy bottom made her tremble. His hands on her breasts and stomach made her groan. His lips along the column of her throat were heavenly. All rational thought… all hatred ceased to exist. She ached in places she had never paid much attention to before.

Lust consumed logic. Her _punishment_ was his torture. His control slipped as he washed her. His touch was anything but clinical. It was designed to torment her as much as it tormented him. Her breasts fit in his palms perfectly. It was as if the Goddess had designed this woman specifically for him, but that was no so. He had been tortured before, but this was excruciating.

He nipped and sucked her neck, marking her as his, uncaring if the men in his camp would see the visible testament of his disgrace. This woman was his. If any dared to touch her, he would kill them. Duty and honor to his king and country ebbed and flowed through his consciousness.

She clasped the sides of the tub and pushed back against him in welcome abandon. Guilt impeded his pleasure. Either she was willing to see this deception through or she really was impaired.

Unwilling to end the façade and not yet quite convinced of her _injury_, Qiang upped the ante and slid his hand over her stomach and down to the thatch of dark hair between her legs. He expected resistance. What he got was complete submission. He could not ignore her invitation as she spread her legs and gasped. He dipped his fingers into the font of her heated core and touched the sun.

She was tight, reminding him of the rare gift a woman could bestow on a man. He longed to be that man, but fate had other plans for her. For now, he would have to content himself with a glimpse of heaven.

Azula embraced the role of _loving wife_ with anguished abandon. She should be fighting this man, not welcoming him into her body. Her virginity would be a small price to pay for his trust. Once she had his trust, she would strike. "Husband," she gasped breathlessly, covering his hand with hers in wanton invitation.

Qiang growled, tilting her head back and capturing her lips. With his tongue, he mimicked the rhythm of consummation, thrusting it in and out of her mouth.

His fingers danced along her moist slit and clitoris, and he plucked the distended nub with skill and ease. When her first orgasm washed over her, it was tinged with fear and panic. It was heat personified… an explosion of ecstatic proportions. Azula arched her back and pressed his hand deeper. He touched the proof of her innocence and cursed, for he yearned to break through it and claim her as his.

Frustration mingled with guilt as Qiang realized the harsh reality of the temptation before him. Her response had been too genuine. Even now, as she nibbled his bottom lip, she purred like a contented cat.

Perhaps Azula's injury did impair her judgment.

That thought was like tossing icy water on an open flame. How could he justify taking something that didn't belong to him? If he gave in to his body's basic demands, how would he be able to look at his own reflection?

The Fire Nation princess had made her view of him perfectly clear. She hated him. She would never willingly submit to his carnal demands. Visions of her riding him danced through his head, causing the ache in his loins to become painful. He would just have to deal with it.

Azula surprised him when she jerked away and turned around. She knelt between his legs, eying the jutting tip of his cock that broke the surface of the water. She reached out and he caught her hand. "Don't… touch me."

Azula contained her smirk. "But, you are my husband."

He pushed her away. "Get out."

"I –"

"I will attend to my own needs, wife," he growled, grappling with the urge to take what she so freely offered. "The water is growing cold and I do not want you to catch a chill."

She climbed out of the tub and shivered, whether from the cold or the heightened nerve-endings Qiang had toyed with. She felt wanton and shameless, giving in to him the way she had. But a purpose had been served…

The general was not impervious to her, his doubts and frustration etched upon his granite features.

"Take my robe… and go to bed." Qiang scrubbed his skin and averted his gaze.

She snatched the robe and wrapped it around her. She wasn't about to argue with his sudden charity, but she couldn't resist tormenting him. "But I'm not tired."

"Do as your told, or I will bend you over my knee and spank you!" he barked, splashing water toward her.

Jumping away, Azula covered her smile with the sleeve of his robe and _obeyed_ his command. She climbed onto the bed and arranged the pillows and furs.

"Once you are dry, take the robe off and hang it next to the fire," he instructed, his voice husky with lust.

Like an obedient _wife_ she did as she was told, casting a coquettish look over her shoulder as she walked past the tub. Her body throbbed, the fire within it stoked and renewed for more of his touch. What was it about this man that made her feel this way? She should hate him, not crave his touch.

Sliding the robe of her shoulders, she hung it next to the fire and strode to the bed, still damp in the area between her legs. Climbing into bed, she feigned sleep.

--

The water was like ice by the time Qiang climbed out. He banished thoughts of Azula's heat around him. She was not his to take. She belonged to his sovereign. He made his way toward the cast iron stove and used the robe to dry himself. Tossing the robe onto the ground, he climbed into bed and gathered the princess into his arms.

Instead of stiffening like she normally did, she sidled up to him and provided him with much needed warmth. He closed his eyes and willed himself to sleep.

--

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

Author's Note – Warning! There is attempted non-consensual sex in this chapter. 

Chapter Seven –

The cold wind swooped in from the northwest, bringing snow flurries into the camp. The Goddess had smiled upon them, for two days ago Qiang's men had found a cave filled of wolfbats. They had wiped out the entire population and had spare meat for the first time in a long time.

Unfortunately, they still had not received a reply from the Earth King. Qiang was beginning to suspect that his message might not have made it to his monarch. Two weeks had passed, and the patience of his men was wearing thin.

He hadn't touched Azula since shortly after her accident with Jin Dee. He just wished he could say the same about the Fire Nation princess. Ever since she had woken up, convinced that they were husband and wife, she had not practiced the same restraint. 

His _wife_ was very attentive to his needs, the flirtatious glances and _accidental_ brushes against him while she served him almost too much for him to bear.

Sitting on the pallet of furs, Qiang huddled near the cast iron stove and watched a domesticated Azula shake the meager coat he had given to her. She wrapped it around her shoulders and headed toward the tent flap.

"Where do you think you're going?" asked Qiang. 

She danced from booted foot to booted foot. "I… need to attend to my… uh… needs," she stammered.

Qiang stared at her. He had not let her out of his sight in the past two weeks. He was always nearby, keeping her close by. First of all, he still didn't trust her. Secondly, he didn't trust his men.

"Very well." He waved his hand and gave her the permission she sought. "If you're not back in ten minutes, I'll come looking for you."

Hiding her smirk, Azula exited the tent and made her way across the encampment and toward the latrine area. She had gambled that it was too cold for him to follow her on such a mundane errand. He hadn't let her out of his sight for the past two weeks, and it was getting rather annoying.

As quickly as she could, she went about her business.

Crossing her arms over her chest, she walked up the trail and lingered on her way back to camp. It was too dark to do any reconnaissance. Her temporary freedom was proving to be fruitless. Besides, if she did manage to get away from Qiang, she would die from exposure.

The weather was definitely against her. It was unlikely that she would get away before the messenger hawk returned with her fate.

Making her way up the rocky path, Azula paid no attention to her surroundings. She was grabbed from behind, her root of Firebending abilities quickly broken as she was brought to her knees and shoved forward. Her face was forced into the cold, muddy snow, and she tried to scream.

"Gag her!" one of her assailants admonished the other in a hushed whisper.

Feeling the cold steel of a blade against her throat, Azula stopped struggling. She was flipped onto her back, and she winced as the blade pressed against her throat. 

"Just stay still, and you won't get hurt," the man on top of her commanded. "Make a sound, and I'll run you through. Is that understood?"

Azula nodded, mentally calculating her chances of taking on the two opponents. They would both burn for this insult. The other assailant stepped closer, and she felt the earth around her wrists and ankles clamp down.

The man on top of her started cutting her clothing off, the cold, biting wind causing her to shiver. She moaned, praying that it sounded like a moan of pleasure and not one of fear. Just in case, she gave a throaty laugh. 

"There's plenty of me to go around," she announced breathlessly.

The man on top of her paused in his haste to undo his trousers. "What the—"

"Hurry up!" the Earthbender next to them demanded, rubbing himself through his pants. 

"Why hurry when you two have taken so much time planning this?" Azula answered, twisting beneath the man who groped her breast. "Release me so that I can pleasure both of you at the same time."

"It's a trick!" the assailant standing next to her hissed. "Hurry up and fuck the Fire Nation whore!"

The other man growled in disagreement and tore the earthen cuffs away from her wrists and ankles. Pressing the knife against her chest, he leaned away from her. He gathered her hair in his other hand and yanked her onto her knees.

Azula trembled, the ironclad grip she had on her composure slipping. Feeling the steel against her cheek, she froze.

"Be nice, or your brother's scar will look like a freckle," he growled, kicking his pants loose and freeing his erect shaft.

"This wasn't the plan!" the other hissed.

"Shut up and get over here," the other warned. "You heard her. She's willing."

She was numb from the cold and was acting on instinct. She had a very strong sense of survival. It had been ingrained upon her with every drill and every lesson she'd ever taken. She would throw herself on the swine's knife before she let them have her. Second to her instinct for survival was her inherent ability to manipulate people.

Hoping she was up to the task, she crooked her finger toward the "smart" assailant and beckoned him to enjoy a pleasure that only she could give him. The other man moved forward and took her hand in his, guiding Azula to his lustful desire.

She was repulsed by the action, but tried not to show it. It would do little good to burn him before she had the other one convinced of her "sincerity" to please them both.

Holding the bile down, she massaged the man's unimpressive length. No wonder he had to force himself on women. His cock was shorter than her little finger. She giggled, her nerves getting the better of her.

Hearing her laughter, the other assailant relaxed and approached her.

A fearful joy leapt to life in her heart, and she summoned as much of her abilities as she could.

"Come on," the "stupid" man complained. 

Reaching for the other man, she touched the evidence of his lust and closed her eyes. Never a devout religious person, Azula prayed to Agni that she would be able to generate enough heat to dissuade her attackers and get away. The cold bite of the knife continued to press against her face.

The frigid grip of fear yielded to her natural talents. Clutching both men, she fed the fire of her anger through her palms and listened as they cried out in agony. She didn't feel the steel as it sliced into her flesh.

Both attackers fell to the ground, writhing in agony.

Springing to her feet, she ran toward the camp. The only sound she could hear was the pounding of her boiling blood as it pumped through her veins. 

She would have rebounded off the solid chest she ran into, but someone grabbed her wrists. Panic, a concept she was unfamiliar with, took hold, and she lashed out with everything she had.

Fire crept along the ground, seeking vengeance that only death would satisfy. It lit the nighttime sky, sending shouts of alarm throughout the camp ahead.

"Azula!" The steely hands shook her. "Stop it!"

Seeing death in the pale green eyes that stared back at her, Azula reeled in the destructive beast of fire that rolled toward the encampment. Tears stung her eyes. The salty wetness burned the cut on her face.

Qiang pulled her against him, shielding her from the gathering crowd. "Find whoever did this to her and bind them until morning!" he ordered, picking Azula up and carrying her toward the camp.

--

Sunlight slipped through the gray clouds the next morning. As was the routine with all her injuries, Maduk paid her a visit. The cuts on her neck, jaw, and stomach were now healed, but Azula knew that the terror of last night's attacks would haunt her for some time to come.

Qiang had woken early, leaving her to her own devices. Unable to sit still, she made her way out of the tent and froze.

All the soldiers of the camp stood at attention. Two men kneeled apart from them, bound and gagged, struggling to plead their case.

Qiang inspected his troops with a steely gaze. "Is there anyone here who wishes to challenge me?" he asked loudly.

An eerie silence descended. Even the two soldiers who were bound and gagged were quiet.

Qiang moved through his men like a silent predator. "Does anyone know the penalty for disobeying a direct order?"

No one answered. The wind and snow were the only sounds that dared to make noise. One would think that his soldiers were made of stone, but the steam of their breath in the air attested to the fact that they were very much alive. She watched Qiang walk toward her two assailants, and she held her breath.

He unsheathed his sword, the shiny, silver metal gleaming in the sunlight that managed to break through the cloud cover. It was as though the sword realized that it would taste blood, and it hummed in expectation.

The General pointed at Azula, his green gaze somber and unforgiving. She stepped forward, mesmerized.

"_She_ is for our sovereign! _She_ is to be unharmed!" he bellowed the command, which echoed against the mountain. With two deadly strikes, he separated the two rapists' heads from their bodies and calmly wiped the blood from his sword.

"_That_ is what happens to those who disobey my direct orders!" he stated loudly.

There were no audible gasps as the two men were put to death, only calm silence. No one questioned the general. No one dared. She stared at the blood as it ruined the pristine white of snow that covered the ground.

Sheathing his sword, he stormed toward her. He grabbed her by her upper arm and dragged her back into his tent. 

She would have protested, but the shock over last night and the brutal resolution this morning left her speechless.

Once the tent flap was closed, Qiang ran his hands over her cheek and jaw. He inspected her neck, then lifted her heavy tunic to check for scaring on her torso. Seemingly satisfied that his prisoner was unharmed, he stood to his full height and glared down at her. "I think it's time that we end the charade, Princess. I've let it continue this far so that it keeps your ever-scheming mind occupied."

Azula cocked her head in acknowledgement, but did not meet his gaze. Her amnesia ruse was over. There was no point of carrying on with it.

"From now on, you will never leave this tent," he said, his inflection carrying a threat much worse than death. "You cost me two soldiers with your little reconnaissance mission."

He grasped her shoulders and shook her, forcing her to look at him. "Where would you go, Azula?" hissed Qiang. "Haven't you realized that there is no place for you to go? I am your salvation… your only hope at staying alive."

Her situation and the events from last night destroyed her composure, and she felt the prickle of tears in her eyes. "You should have killed me when you had the chance." It was a statement, not a threat.

Qiang pulled her against him, whether shielding her from the embarrassment of her tears or proving a point, she did not know.

"That would not have been nearly as much fun," he chuckled mirthlessly.

--

TBC

Author's Note – It may be some time before I update this story again. I am having surgery on my hand… again… on Friday. I don't know how much typing I will be able to do with a cast on my hand.

As always, thanks to Moncapitan for inspiring this story. Thanks to all who have reviewed.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight—

Feigning sleep, Azula listened to the hushed conversation between the general and the healer. She forced herself to relax, but she couldn't ignore the serious tones. Her father would always use hushed, serious tones whenever he was displeased with her.

Was it possible they were plotting her death?

Her heart pounded as the realization dawned on her. Her death was only a matter of time. Her survival instinct bristled at her quiescence. She'd spent that last two months since her capture fighting to survive, and she was tired.

Would her death be a public execution, or would they dispatch her quietly?

"It was a mistake," Maduk whispered harshly. "Your desire to curry favor with the Earth King was foolish, Qiang. It would be best if you kill her."

Azula tightened her hold on the blankets, for there was no response from Qiang.

"You are correct," replied Qiang, his voice so soft she had difficulty hearing him. "It _was_ foolish of me.

"I should have realized her value sooner. I should have led the men out of the mountains and into a warmer climate. I never should have trusted such an important message to a messenger hawk and fate. No… let me finish."

Holding her breath, she continued to listen.

"General Shen intercepted the messenger hawk," Qiang continued. She could hear the rustle of parchment. "Even though we are trapped until the pass clears, he has ordered me to bring the princess to him. He wants her for himself."

Azula bit her lip and tasted blood. Her stomach churned, and she shuddered. She tried to relax. Tried to keep up the façade that she was asleep.

"The bloated pig thinks I will just hand her over. He thinks I'll obey his orders." Qiang snorted.

"I take it you have other plans," Maduk stated. 

"Yes," her captor replied. She could tell by the strain of his voice he had stood up. "I shall take her to the Earth King myself."

"You'll die." Maduk's inflection was matter-of fact. "You either die from exposure or die by her hand. Personally, I'd pray for death by exposure. Somehow, I have the feeling she'd torture you before she'd kill you."

Qiang chuckled, "Thank you for your concern, Maduk. It warms me that I have someone who will burn hell money in honor of my memory."

The healer snorted. "Why would I waste hell money on your undeserving soul? I'll need it for my own passing."

"Go to bed, old man," Qiang chastised Maduk softly, their voices fading as they left the tent.

Azula sat up and prepared for Qiang's return. After having lived under his thumb for so long, she had become to know his habits. He would be back soon.

He had been true to his word after he'd "disciplined" the two soldiers who had tried to rape her. He rarely let her out of his sight. Every night they had slept together like brother and sister. Her thought amused her, and a bitter smiled graced her lips.

Zuko.

The months as a prisoner of war had done little to dull the hatred she felt for her brother. She had underestimated him. Qiang's words echoed in her mind. _He wants her for himself._ She rubbed her arms for warmth as a chill raced down her spine. "Himself" was the infamous General Shen, the Butcher of Maitsu Island.

That was the only time in Fire Nation history Earth Kingdom forces occupied Fire Nation territory. An ocean separated the two nations, but the outer islands had always been vulnerable. Closing her eyes, memories assuaged her.

She was young when she had traveled with her mother to the island. Her mother had always been a comforting figure, always the one to respond to natural disasters or worse. She was loved. The people of the Fire Nation revered Ursa. Her mother had taken her to the island for a lesson in humility.

She didn't learn humility that day. Instead, she had received a crash course in hatred. She'd been born and bred to hate the Earth Kingdom and everything it stood for, but that day…

Azula shuddered in remembrance. She would never forget. The stench of death lingered in the air along with the bodies that were suspended upon earthen spikes. Surprisingly, it wasn't the death that turned her stomach.

It was the survivors.

She had stood by her mother's side as Ursa had assisted a surgeon. The surgeon was suturing something between a young girl's legs. At the time, she hadn't been old enough to understand.

General Shen had raped all the girls and boys of the island village.

She swallowed the bile that had risen in her throat and opened her eyes.

Staring at the entrance, she waited for Qiang to return and sifted through her options. She could beg for his mercy, kill him and take her chances with the elements, or take her chances with General Shen.

Since mercy was a concept that was alien to her, she ruled that out immediately.

Somehow, killing her captor seemed wrong. She had been told she was insane on several occasions. Perhaps she'd finally succumbed to the madness. Qiang was her guarantee out of here. Yes, he had decimated her troops, taken all of their provisions, and taken her captive, but he had treated her with… honor.

Her chances with General Shen were limited. "Better the devil you know, than the devil you don't know," she muttered between clenched teeth. She would rather die by her own hand than be subjected to the depraved practices of that pig. 

Which led her back to begging for mercy from General Qiang. He was not easily manipulated. Moments like this—moments where she was completely alone—were rare. There was no escape. She lived because he willed it. It was a bitter taste to swallow. Vulnerability was difficult for her to accept. Damn Agni! Damn the seasons! Damn the weather!

It felt as though everything was conspiring against her. She blinked, surprised at the unfamiliar burn of unshed tears.

Qiang entered, quickly closing the flap of the tent behind him and pulling the canvass ties together. He wasn't startled to find her awake, but he was surprised to see tears shimmering in her eyes. Her ebony hair flowed around her shoulders like a dark river. Her pale skin shone bright in the muted lighting of the tent.

The effect was instantaneous. He wanted her, and he was past the stage of hiding it. Honor was the only thing that bound him now. Ambition had stirred within his gut once he'd realized who he had captured. She was a war prize that rivaled the most glorious jewels. A member of the Fire Nation royal family. With her father dead, her value grew. The only one more valuable was her brother, Fire Lord Zuko.

He had known she was awake. He knew she was listening to the conversation between him and Maduk. He could see the fear in her eyes, the uncertainty over her fate. Part of him wanted to comfort her. The other part wanted to claim her for his own. Fuck politics! Screw his career! Forget the vows he had taken on behalf of his monarch!

"So, what should I do?" he asked, moving toward the bed they'd shared for the past few months. "Should I turn you over to General Shen, or should I take you to the Earth King? Should I take a chance that you will 'kill' me given the first opportunity? Or should I just kill you now?"

Azula remained silent, watching him move toward the bed. He kicked his boots off and started to undress. As was the way with them since their uneasy cohabitation, she averted her gaze and turned her back. He stripped his clothing off until all that remained was his trousers. She wore the red robe she had been captured in. It was a small rebellion, one hardly worth staging.

"Perhaps I should just let you go," he mused out loud, skirting the edge of the bed to where she stood.

She turned to look at him then, hatred etched in the beauty of her features. "You have been cruel to me upon numerous occasions, but that remark was beneath even you."

Qiang feigned mock indignation. "Me, cruel? When was I cruel?"

Azula clamped her lips shut, refusing to rise to the bait. He continued to stalk toward her, and true to form, she did not back down. Heat radiated from her. That is why he wore little clothing to bed in the dead of winter. She was like a furnace, throwing off heat like it was her Goddess-given right. There were no words to describe his want of her. Perhaps, if they were different people in a different time, things would be different.

But they weren't.

He could see the hatred in her eyes. The wariness that haunted her gaze. He _had_ been cruel, but he could have been so much crueler. He could have tossed her to his men. He could have forced himself on her. Those actions would only have fomented the hatred the pulsed in her soul.

He couldn't help himself. It was like watching something he had no control over as he gathered silken strands of ebony hair between his fingers. She stood there, her shoulders stiff with resistance, her lips twisted with resentment.

"Have we become so mired in the world around us that we have lost our souls?" he asked softly, lifting the strands and pressing his lips against them. He dropped them and traced a line along the open V of her robe. "I suppose you were bred to hate us. Generations of hate."

As if from a distance, she heard his words.

"Have you ever asked yourself why you hate us, Princess Azula?" Gone was the mocking tone he normally used whenever he used her title. His fingers worked the knot of her robe open. She felt the cool air of the room touch her exposed skin as he peeled the layers away.

"Or do you hate us based solely on principle?" he murmured, pushing her robe from her shoulders.

"I wonder if my sovereign will cherish you like this," he mused, running callused pads over her rigid nipples.

"Somehow I imagine your king will have me publicly executed," she replied, unable to stop the small catch in her voice. "Unless my brother has sired any children since my absence, I am second in line for the Fire Nation throne. It would be foolish to just keep me around."

Her words hung in the air, seemingly suspended by hope. Qiang tempered his lust and stepped away. "What would you do if you were Fire Lady Azula, sovereign ruler of your precious Fire Nation?"

A slow grin curled the edge of her lips, and she pulled her robe back on. "I'd kill you."

Qiang tsked. "You disappoint me, Azula, for you would have the power to do so much more. Your nation and my kingdom were at war long before you and I were born. I never cared for history, but if what I remember is correct, the war was started by your great-grandfather's greed for more land and natural resources."

"Only because _my_ people were being exploited," she countered. "My nation doesn't have coal to mine. Winters are harsh. No one could afford the price of coal _your_ merchants were charging."

"Yet, the war wages on." Qiang poured himself a drink and downed it, taking pleasure in the way it burned his throat. "The Avatar may have stopped your father and Sozin's comet, but I doubt he has the power to stop the war.

"Generations have fought and died in this war. Hatred has been bred. Genocide against the Air Nomads. Acres of land scorched beyond repair." He poured another drink and sipped its contents, watching her… measuring her receptiveness to what he was about to propose. Twirling the amber liquid in the glass, he offered it to her. "Do _you_ have the courage to end the war?"

Her gaze fixated on the offering, her thoughts scattered to the wind. Peace? An end to the war? What he was proposing was preposterous. Yet, she couldn't snuff out the spark of hope in her heart. Ambition. Greed. Vengeance. How would it feel to set those aside?

"You have the power to end the war." His voice was velvety. His words struck fear in her heart. He stepped closer, coaxing her to drink.

"My brother—"

"Is expendable," he stated, clasping one of her hands and lifting it toward his lips.

Her eyebrow arched, a look of awed bemusement gracing her features.

He nibbled one of her fingertips. "He continues to wage a war that isn't winnable. Remove him and his ambitions, take his place, and rule as a benevolent monarch, revered by your people for bringing them peace."

Azula sighed, wrapping her other hand around the cold metal cup he offered her. "You make it sound so easy."

"Nothing is ever easy," he retorted sharply, dropping her hand and stepping away.

This must be a dream. The words he had uttered were too good to be true. Or were they? Was there no end to the man's ambitions? She didn't believe it was possible, but had she met her match? There was no denying the physical attraction. She'd never felt this way before.

"Are you just going to climb down the mountain, swim across the ocean, and kill my brother for me?" She smirked and sniffed the contents of the cup before sipping it.

Qiang knocked the cup out of her hand and grabbed her wrists, pulling her against him. "This isn't a joke," he growled, his breath stirring her hair. How could he open her eyes? How could he make her see? When had his enemy crawled beneath his skin? When had her well-being begun to matter to him?

He should do himself a favor now. He should fuck her, then kill her. It would ease the ache and put an end to his torment, but the idea of peace had taken root in his soul, and he knew that the bitter Fire Nation royal before him was the key to that peace.

--

TBC


	9. Chapter 9

**Warning! Mature Content Ahead!**

Chapter Nine—

Limping along the rocky path, Azula shivered and tried to warm herself. Qiang had placed a manacle around her left ankle. The wind howled fiercely, blowing snow flurries around them. She could barely make out his broad back. If it weren't for the constant tug of the chain attached to the manacle, she wouldn't know which way to go.

Three days had passed since their descent of their mountainous prison. The blizzards that frequented this realm during the winter months had set a deadly trap for anyone daring to trespass. But Qiang trudged along anyway, as if daring the harsh elements to take his life. There was no way he would have risked the lives of his men on such a difficult journey.

She didn't see his bulk and ran into him. Steadying arms encircled her waist. "We'll camp here for the night!" he yelled over the screeching wind.

As he'd done the last two nights, he used his Earthbending abilities to construct a crude shelter around them. He pulled a long plank of rock from beneath the snow and knocked it over to form the floor. Then he summoned three larger sheets of earth to form a rudimentary tent around them.

Darkness surrounded them. It was like being buried alive. She looked up, praying for the sliver of light that would soothe her fear. Qiang released her, and she could hear him rummage through the rucksack. His hands circled hers, placing the various stones in them. "Here. Warm these up."

It wasn't a request. It was a command. Her stomach growled, reminding her that she had not eaten that day. That was the way of their survival down the mountain. There was no need to carry water. They only had to melt snow for that necessity. They had no need for weapons. They were both benders. The layers of clothing on their backs were thick. Other than the chain that attached her to him, Qiang carried a rucksack full of amber rocks and cured meat.

Taking a deep breath, Azula called forth her breath of fire. She warmed the stones, and they started to glow. Light filled the earthen shelter, and she heaved a sigh of relief.

She wanted to fight with him. She wanted to refuse him her help, but exhaustion was tugging on her spirit. Qiang shook out the two furs and placed them on the dry ground. She busied herself with heating the other stones and placed them around the perimeter of their shelter. They retained heat and provided light, giving off no noxious fumes like coal. Qiang knelt on the pallet and pulled the remnants of the meat and ripped off two pieces, holding one of the pieces up to her.

"Eat this," he commanded.

Snatching the offering from his hand, she scowled and rubbed the manacle around her ankle. "You might want to add the word 'please' to your vocabulary. Where were you raised? A brothel?"

He had wondered how long it would take her to snap. He had chosen to ignore her earlier digs, but he'd had enough. He was tired and wasn't going to coddle her any longer. "Yes."

She snorted, a petty sneer crumpling her chapped lips. "So you're a whore _and_ a deserter."

Qiang pounced on her, knocking her only meal to the ground and pinning her beneath him. Her eyes were wide, without fear, and challenging him. How much longer was he going to be able to resist her? How much longer could he deny the attraction that burned in his gut every time he was near her?

Her pink tongue darted across her cracked, bottom lip, reminding him that this wasn't the time or the place to teach her of her new station in life. He rolled away and closed his eyes, feigning disinterest. "Go to sleep. We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow."

--

The next day, Azula kept her eyes on the rocky path as they trudged along. Rocks. Not snow. They were nearing the base, and she plotted her escape with enthusiasm. He had delivered her from the elements, and she would soon deliver him from this world. As she plodded along, she sunk deeper into thought and didn't realize the hazy air surrounding them nor the fact that her captor had stopped until she ran into him.

"Take your clothes off," he commanded, tugging on the chain that bound them together. He stooped and began to unlace his boots.

"Are you crazy!" she asked, gathering the chain in her hand and yanking it harshly, the aggressive move throwing the tall general off balance. Before she could kick him, he jerked her leash, and she fell. Even through the thick, steamy smog, he found her, pinning her to the cold terrain with earthen braces.

"Do you always have to do things the hard way?" he growled, his hands groping the furs that covered her body, searching for the fastenings. He stopped and pulled her boots and socks off instead.

"No!" She struggled to free herself, regretting her impulsive nature and realizing she had finally pushed him too far. _Oh, Agni! Not like this. Why now? Why rape her now?_

Rough hands peeled the layers of furs and clothing open. The ground shifted, and she was turned onto her stomach, her clothing stripped from her in one fell swoop. Cold air and fear assailed her senses. She couldn't move. She couldn't bend. She couldn't defend herself.

"You bastard!" she spat, trying to claw at him. He lifted her, and she arched her back and tried to kick him. She could summon fire to burn, but without a root, she could not direct it.

"I may be a bastard," he chuffed, swinging her in his arms. "But _you_ smell like a cow-pig, and _you_ need a bath!"

Before she knew it, she was flying through the air and landing in a bubbling pool of warm water. She wasn't expecting water. The opposite of fire burned her lungs as she tried to breath and claw her way to the surface. The earthen ties dissolved in the water.

Tears of fear, frustration, and hatred fell freely as she broke the surface and screamed.

"Careful _your highness_!" Qiang laughed mockingly. "We've come a long way. It would be a shame to start an avalanche and ruin your escape plans."

Azula screeched again, the echo reverberating in the distance.

Qiang, having divested himself of his boots and clothing, climbed down the rock path and jumped into the hot spring.

Gathering the metal chains of her leash, she wrapped it around her hands and prepared to attack him once he surfaced.

He surfaced behind her and hauled her against him. She cursed and fought in vain. He was bigger than she was, and she was off balance. Not only was the manacle on her ankle rubbing the skin raw, but the swirling tides of the hot spring caused the chain to churn and jerk her around.

"Stop struggling," he threatened against her ear, grinding his heavy erection against the plump flesh of her backside, "or I'll give you a reason to struggle."

She froze, the blood in her veins turning to ice. She'd heard of _that_ kind of sexual intercourse before. She'd overheard the female servants whispering about it once. They'd said it burned worse than the bluest flame. That description alone sent a shiver of trepidation shimmying down her spine.

"Relax," he whispered, the tight band of his arms around her, relaxing a little. "After four days of traveling down the mountain, we were fortunate to find an opportunity to bathe. Why must you fight my every order?"

"Because I hate you!" she hissed.

"Why?" he asked softly. "I have saved you from a fate worse than death on numerous occasions. How did I wrong you?"

Wiggling against him, she panted. The evidence of his desire was nestled against her ass. His breath tickled the highly sensitive skin of her neck. His right arm held her around her waist, his hand splayed along the taut plane of her abdomen. His left arm circled her shoulders. It was impossible to break the hold, and she gave up.

"Do you hate me or the Earth Kingdom as a whole?" he questioned her, inching his right hand from her stomach to the underside of one of her breasts.

Realizing what the man meant to do, Azula tensed. Her gut clenched in shameful anticipation. "You," she growled in answer, trying to shimmy against him and work his left arm higher so she could bite it.

A sad smile of triumph spread across his lips as he succumbed to temptation. "Born and bred to hate. Do you know what gentleness is? Are you so enraptured with the destructive nature of your native element that you cannot see the generous benefits of it?"

There was a time he had dreamed of marching across Fire Nation territory as a victor. Those dreams had left bitterness in their wake. He was a puppet of his kingdom's politicians and monarch. He had never questioned their directives before. After all, his kingdom had done nothing wrong. They had merely defended themselves against Fire Nation aggression.

He hadn't realized his prisoner's true worth until he had received the messenger hawk from General Shen. He was all too familiar with his superior's penchant for war. He was a warmonger. He found pleasure in other people's pain. Though he had found no basis for the truth, rumor had it that he'd ordered the rape and execution of Earth Kingdom citizens—ones who had been found guilty of conspiring with Fire Nation soldiers.

He could follow orders and hand Azula over to him, but that thought didn't sit well with him. He couldn't put a finger on the moment it happened, but the stubborn Fire Nation princess had come to mean more to him. She wasn't just a prisoner of war. She no longer represented a tool to further his ambition.

As crazy as it may sound, Azula represented a wish that he hadn't entertained ever since he was a small child.

Peace.

Peace with a relentless enemy that kept coming. Peace to live life as it should be lived, free from fear.

The irony did not escape him. He was a warmonger himself. He had blood on his hands just like General Shen, but he adhered to a value system that had sabotaged his career one time too often.

Even though ever fiber of his being protested, he knew he needed to deliver Azula to the Earth King. Qiang had wanted her for himself ever since he'd seen her. He wouldn't lie to himself. There was little point.

There was one factor in the equation that made his blood run cold.

What would his monarch do to Azula?

The answer was swift, and it kept him from sleeping well at night. The Earth King would order her execution. Would he subject her to cruelties no woman should ever know before then?

Shifting his left arm up, he hissed when her teeth sank into the soft flesh of his forearm. With his other arm, he yanked the chain and pulled her beneath the water. As he predicted, she let go and flailed against him. Wincing, he checked his arm and chuckled. The skin was barely broken.

Turning her in his arms, he pulled her against him. The sight was almost comical. Her ragged breath came in gasps, and her dark hair was plastered to her face. He pinned her against one of the edges of the spring, using his bending to fashion earth-like cuffs for her arms. He tossed the chain onto the shore and buried it with his Earthbending.

She was trapped. Only one leg free. If it weren't for the rocky cuffs around her arms, her hair in her face, and her cursing him, she would look like she was enjoying herself. He pushed her hair out of the way and backed away, swimming to the middle of the spring and scrubbing the grime away.

"I'm going to kill you." The venom in her voice would make a lesser man shrink in terror.

"You keep promising," he teased, "but you have yet to deliver."

She clamped her lips shut, finally realizing he was baiting her. Her breasts bobbed above the surface of the water, whetting his appetite to sample the delicate buds.

He smirked. "I'm happy you've realized the futility of your struggle."

"If you think I'm going to sit still while you try to rape me, you're sadly mistaken," she spat, confident that her one free leg would dissuade him if that were his intentions.

Qiang went about cleaning himself before answering her. Once finished, he turned his attentions to her. He started by wiping the mud off her face. She shied away from his touch, but he didn't miss the shuddering breath she exhaled.

"Rape you?" He should have been offended, but he found it somewhat amusing. "If I touched you, it wouldn't be rape. You would beg for my touch."

She opened her mouth to protest, and he took advantage, crushing his lips against hers and sliding his tongue into her mouth.

Wanting and needing were two separate things. Whereas she wanted to kick and bite him, she needed him to touch her. It was humiliating and exhilarating. She closed her eyes, awash in shameful sensation and reminding herself that he was the enemy. If giving herself to the swine would gain his trust or give her the opportunity to kill him, her virginity would be a small price to pay.

Of course, it wouldn't do to give in too easily.

She nipped his tongue, half warning and half invitation, and groaned. Qiang broke the kiss and licked a path along her jaw and down to her neck. Straining against the arm holds, she arched her back. He needed no encouragement and lifted the weight of one of her breasts to his eager lips. Azula tried to ignore the lance of fire that speared beneath her belly and settled between her legs.

The rasp of his tongue against the highly sensitized flesh made her blood boil.

"How does it feel, Azula?" he whispered against her puckered flesh, taking hold of her hips. "Can the hatred heat your blood like I can, or does it make you cold?"

She gasped when he slid his fingers between her legs and touched the aching flesh there.

"Even now you plot to kill me," he chastised between licks. "I should be flattered." Rubbing his fingers up and down her slit, he circled her clit. He wrapped his arm around her waist to steady her. "Is that all that you are? Revenge and hatred? Are you beyond redemption? Are you beyond saving?"

Hissing between clenched teeth, she twitched in his arms.

"Should I strip you of your worth now and be done with you?" He continued stoking the fire within her. "Or shall I teach you the ways of a concubine? Perhaps… if you please his majesty, he shall spare your life."

His words made little sense to her, for the lustful yearnings had taken hold of her. What was it about this man? Was it the ugly truth that he showed her daily? Her world shifted as a soft shelf of earth raised her to the top of the water.

"Lean back and let me show you what a man's tongue against your flesh feels like," he husked, grabbing her thigh and forcing it over his shoulder.

Every muscle in her body ached as she strove toward release. She had heard of this kind of foreplay. The swipe of his tongue made her cry out. She longed to grab his head and grind herself against his face, but she was still trapped.

Her taste was just as he had imagined—pure, heated spices. He feasted on her, lapping the juices like a starving man, humbled by her body's reaction to his touch. She shuddered beneath his mouth, whether from the cold air or her release, he did not know.

Nor did he care. He felt as though he would burst. He released her bonds and placed a gentle kiss upon her lips. Unlike most women who shied away from their intimate scent, she inhaled it. Her eyes were cast in shadow, just like her thoughts.

He was on tenuous ground, but he gathered her hand in his and guided her to his straining erection. "Touch me," he hissed as her palm circled his silken rod. "Man is hard. Woman is soft. This is the way the Goddess intended. Learn from this Azula. Learn that your only value may come from your feminine talents. Seduction takes work." He removed his hand and gasped when she stroked him willingly.

Cupping her cheek, he kissed her, stabbing into her mouth with his ravenous tongue. He would have to be content with this no matter how much he wanted to claim her for his own. At that moment, he despised every single vow he'd ever taken. How was he going to deliver her to his monarch and walk away?

Azula cupped his testicles and smiled. It should have made him nervous, but she descended into the water, and the feel of her mouth surrounding him made his knees buckle. He resisted the urge to hold her there until he finished, clenching his hands into fists. Time seemed to stand still; the cusp of his release weakened him.

She came up for air, her hand coaxing him toward pleasure. Before he could pull her up for another kiss, she dove down again. Her hands and mouth seemed to be everywhere. Her tongue flicked the sensitive tip of his male flesh.

With an anguished roar, he felt his seed mix with the warm water. The intensity was too much, and he lost his footing, managing to stumble backwards.

It all happened so quickly. Somehow her chain had wrapped itself around the back of his legs. He watched in horror as she surfaced with the manacle in her hand. With a vicious jerk, the chain bit into the skin of his legs, and she shoved him beneath the water.

Azula leapt out of the hot spring, her heart pounding as adrenaline took over. She was panicked. She never panicked. She snatched her clothes and boots, stepping into her trousers as she stumbled down the trail and into the darkness.

--

TBC

Author's Notes—Thanks to all who have reviewed. I'm starting to like Azula better than I like Zuko. At least she has the balls to be evil. Anyway, sticking with my six month schedule of outpatient surgeries, I am headed under the knife _again_. Sigh. It's nothing major, just one of life's inconvenient truth of the aging process. I'll be out of commission for a while, but hope to get another chapter of this story posted prior to the surgery itself. So, check back soon! 


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter Ten—

Panicked thoughts consumed reason as Azula fled down the rock-strewn path. She had somehow managed to get her clothes and boots on. Her heart skittered in her chest as blood pounded through her veins. Why hadn't she burned his clothes? Why hadn't she burned him? Why hadn't she killed him?

Now was not the time to question decision or indecision. She had to find a place to hide, one where she could regroup and think. Azula slid on loose rocks, pitching forward and catching herself on a large bolder, which shifted away from her in an unnatural way.

It levitated next to her, seemingly without a source of power. She spun around, unable to see Qiang anywhere. Patches of thick mist blocked her vision. Crouching low, she inhaled sharply and did a round kick. Bright blue flames shot from her foot in all directions, seeking to devour any target within reach.

Mocking laughter echoed off the earthen walls, and the boulder nudged her roughly, knocking her over. 

"Coward!" she shouted, jumping to her feet and shooting long arcs of fire in the direction of the laughter. "Show yourself!"

The boulder dropped with a loud thud, startling her and giving her hope. Maybe she had hit him!

Wasting no time, she leapt into the mist and sprayed the area with a volley of fire bursts. The ground cracked beneath her, and she sprang toward an outcropping of ragged rocks. Winded, Azula clawed at the bare surface and tried to pull herself up, but she felt herself being dragged down. Something had hold of her feet.

A growl of frustrated anger bounced off the rock walls, and her tenuous grasp broke. She heard the bones breaking before she felt them, the sickening crunch of her arm sending a burning pain into her shoulder. The pain was so bad it made her sick, and she gagged. Pebbles and dust landed around her.

A human fist emerged from the mist, grabbing hold of her crumpled tunic and hauling her to her feet. Her vision blurred, and the world around her grew dark.

Cursing, Qiang hauled her over his shoulder and winced. He would press a hand against his wound, but his skin was blistering, and he didn't want to risk an infection. The damn, Firebending witch was going to pay for this. He should put her out of his misery and haul her carcass back to Ba Sing Se for the reward money, but the promised whispers of peace played in his mind, strengthening his resolve.

Groaning, he shifted her weight and made his way back toward his clothes.

--

Smell was the first sensation that alerted Azula to her new surroundings. The smell of manure wasn't a scent anyone ever wanted to awaken to. Pain was the second sensation that greeted her, the burning flashes of her broken arm rudely reminding her of her failed attempt of escape. Taste wasn't far behind. Bitterness and sand was the meal for the day, and her stomach growled in protest. Azula opened her eyes, not surprised when she saw an ostrich-horse in the stall next to her. She shook her head, clearing the fog of her memories. The sound of hammers hitting wood was faint in the distance.

Rolling over on the wide cot, Azula winced as every fiber of her being protested. A chill consumed her. Her stomach heaved, trying to eject its contents. Fortunately, there were none.

"Welcome back," a serene voice greeted her from the stall across the barn, startling her, for she thought the ostrich-horse was talking to her. The door to the stall she was in opened, and a woman sidled up to her, offering her water from a skin. "Drink this," she instructed. 

Water splashed onto her lips, and she opened her mouth. 

"The fever has broken," the woman stated, tipping the skin and giving her the water. "Your husband will be pleased. It's a miracle that both of you survived the blizzard."

Pushing the skin away, Azula shook her head, and the room began to spin. She'd never felt so helpless… so defeated. The woman tried to offer her more, but Azula shoved it away.

She had rarely admitted defeat in her young lifetime. In fact, she had only done so once before. She had been sparing with her father. She hadn't realized he'd been holding back, and she had become arrogant. Her father tempered her arrogance by pulling her whipping girl into the arena and burning her. The whipping girl's punishments had rarely bothered her, but she would never forget that lesson.

The girl hadn't survived.

Her screams echoed in Azula's nightmares, chipping away at the armored resistance of her soul. She would never forget the horror on her mother's face when her mother had discovered what had happened. The death of her whipping girl had been the wedge that had driven them apart.

She remembered overhearing a conversation between her mother and her great-aunt. Though her great-aunt had assured Ursa that Azula had been born lucky, her mother had replied, "She may have been born lucky, but I fear she was born without a soul."

That was the day… the chink in her emotional armor. That was the day that had changed everything. That had been the day her father had defeated her. That was the day she renounced her soul, embracing the darkness that kept her from feeling.

"Your husband will be back once the sun sets," the woman announced reassuringly. He's helping my husband rebuild our house. We were fortunate the Fire Nation did not burn down the barn. At least we have this small measure of comfort during the winter months."

Azula blinked, her cheeks flushed with shame as she looked around the ramshackle barn. She embraced the cold, dark void where her soul used to be and reminded herself that the woman before her didn't matter. The barn didn't matter. Nothing mattered.

Not even her own survival.

The outer doors blew open, and two men struggled to close them. She caught a glimpse of blinding whiteness and caught her breath as the bitter cold from outside seeped through the blanket that covered her naked form.

Heaving a sigh of relief, Qiang stomped the fresh snow from his boots and started removing the layers of his clothing. As had been his habit since he and Azula arrived at this farm, he glanced toward the stall. His breath caught in his throat when he saw that she was awake.

She'd been in and out of consciousness for the last two days, and the guilt over her injuries had started to take its toll.

He should have known better than to trust her. It could have been a fatal mistake. It almost had been. He had underestimated her resolve. She was the enemy. It was time he accepted it.

Qiang wasn't going to lie to himself. He was too old to start now. He had enjoyed their interlude in the hot spring, and had forgotten himself. He had intended teaching her a lesson, but it had backfired miserably. He'd had a difficult time realizing how she had removed the metal shackle from her ankle. It looked as though she heated up the metal long enough to bend it. The blistered, infected skin of her ankle was proof of her desperation. 

He was surprised he was still alive. Why hadn't she killed him?

The blessed goddess must have been watching over him, whereas Agni must have deserted Azula.

Sitting on the cot next to her, he moved to touch her cheek, and she shied away.

"Come on, Edun," the matronly woman said. "Let's give these young people some privacy."

Qiang bowed his head, thankful for the elderly couple's discretion. Once they were out of hearing range, he spoke.

"They don't know who you are," he murmured, his green gaze lingering on her cracked lips. "And they don't know who I am. Fire Nation marauders burned their house down two weeks ago. A new blizzard has started, and you're in no condition to travel."

He paused and moved the blanket from her leg. He shook his head. "Your trick almost cost you your life, your highness," whispered Qiang, regret etched into his features. "If I had known you wanted to get away from me so badly, I would have taken the shackle off your ankle sooner."

Azula kept her eyes downcast, refusing to rise to the teasing quality in his voice. 

Peeling the bandage away from the blisters on her ankle, he managed not to cringe. "You're also fortunate you did not lose your foot. I'm still trying to figure out how you heated the metal beneath the water as you pleasured me."

Her cheeks flushed red, and her gaze met his.

Qiang smirked. "Either way… With your broken arm, your injured ankle, and this blizzard, we aren't going anywhere any time soon. I was unable to procure more civilized lodgings. Lin Wu and her husband Edun were gracious enough to let you recover in their bed. It is all they have left since the band of marauders burned down their house."

His smirk turned into a frown, and he cupped her chin gently. "I should kill you for who you are. Fire Nation." He made no effort to conceal the contempt in his voice.

"This is what the war is, Azula," he hissed close to her ear. "Not some goddess-forsaken mountaintop that no one has heard of. The innocent suffer as the prideful elite sacrifice them for sport.

"Is this what you want to be remembered for?" Qiang asked. "You have the power to stop this, yet you continue to hate. Why not be remember for something better?"

Azula jerked away from him, making no reply.

He sighed. "I'm Olan and you're Ling-Ling. We are hunters, and we were hunting on the mountain when we were trapped by the blizzard."

"Ling-Ling is a pet's name," Azula protested softly.

Adjusting her blanket like a loving husband, Qiang cleared his throat and glanced over his shoulder pointedly. "Azula is a Fire Nation name. Once this blizzard passes and you are well enough to travel, we will make our way to Ba Sing Se." _So that you may meet your fate._

"So why change your name?"

"General Shen isn't the only one looking for you," he replied, leaning closer. "Those marauders… It seems your brother is looking for you too."

--

TBC

Author's Notes—Thanks to all who have reviewed. All mistakes are my own.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven—

Fire Nation Capital…

Sitting behind the wall of fire, Zuko waited. The fire sages from Avatar Rokku's temple knelt before him, complimenting him upon his recent military victories. Unlike his father before him, Zuko's military strategies had not only beaten back the Earth Kingdom and Water Tribe alliance, but he had turned their advantages against them.

The colonies his father and grandfather had fought for so bitterly and won were now secure. His nation was thriving, the war feeding the monstrous needs for raw materials. Soon, they would recapture Ba Sing Se, and he would personally burn it to the ground. That was, after all, where everything had gone wrong.

Zuko's soul had embraced the bitterness that had taken root there. He had everything he'd ever wanted, the hollow echoes of his victories shallow indeed. There was only one person who could ruin the solitude of his festering hatred…

Azula.

How many times had his uncle told him to keep his enemies close?

But Zuko had rarely headed the old general's advice. Instead, he had sought vengeance. As Fire Lord, he could do anything he wanted, and what he had wanted was to see Azula suffer. He'd wanted her to lose everything the way he had. He'd wanted her to fear for her life… to know what hunger was. 

That is why he had "given" her the regiment of misfits and sent her on a fool's errand.

"Omashu is yours again, my lord," one of the sages stated. "What are the orders you wish me to relay to General Vo?"

"Burn it to the ground," Zuko replied.

"My lord?" The sage looked puzzled. He wasn't a military advisor. He knew nothing of strategy and resources, but he and the other sages were the bridge between Fire Lord and the nation's military leaders.

Theories abounded as to why Zuko refused to meet with his generals, but only he knew the truth—the truth that his uncle was among them. His uncle was everywhere, a pale shadow of death that clung to the living in an infestation of delusions.

The Fire Lord wallowed in insanity, no longer able to determine fact from fiction, lingering on a past that had pushed him down the path he now traveled.

"Burn Omashu to the ground," Zuko repeated with a low growl.

The sage looked to his companions. One of them stood and cleared his throat. "Lord Zuko, I am your humble servant, ignorant of such matters. But even I know of Omashu's strategic value. Omashu is vital to the capture of Ba Sing Se."

A malicious grin spread across Zuko's lips as he moved from his divine perch. The wall of fire lowered to a flickering flame, and he stepped over it to address the sage intimately. Pointing at the sage, he crooked his finger and motioned for the holy man to approach him.

The sage stepped toward him and dropped to his knees, kowtowing to his ruler. His fear permeated the room. "Please forgive me, my lord."

Chuckling, Zuko positioned himself behind him. "There is nothing to forgive." He touched his underling's head. "Stand," he commanded, his voice so soft one could barely hear it.

The sage did so reluctantly. The others watched the display, fascinated over the almost fatherly way in which Zuko embraced their holy brother. 

Wrapping his left arm around the sage's shoulders, Zuko pulled the sage backwards against his chest. "There is nothing to forgive," he whispered reassuringly, moving his hand to the sage's hair and patting his head. "You offered your opinion…"

Zuko clutched the man's hair and forced his head back. With his right hand, he delivered his punishment. The small blade cut into the man's jugular with deadly precision, slicing a path from one side of his neck to the other.

"…Which was wrong," Zuko taunted the dying sage as his life's blood poured from him. "How dare you stand in my presence!" he hissed, the fury in his voice causing spittle to fly from his lips.

The fire sage gurgled, trying to plead his lost case. The young Fire Lord pushed him away, the sage's body doing a macabre dance to its final death. The corpse, still pouring crimson fluid from the fatal wound, landed in front of the remaining clergy.

"I don't care about Omashu!" Zuko bellowed, pacing before them like a caged animal. "I don't care about your flattery! What I care about is finding my sister!"

The other sages remained still even though the pool of blood had reached them.

"What of the assassins!" ranted Zuko. "What of the marauders! Where is Azula?"

The sages shifted uncomfortably, bearing the brunt of their divine ruler's temper.

"She's in Ba Sing Se!" he roared, causing the wall of fire to grow brighter. "She's plotting with the Avatar! She is conspiring against me!"

--

Ba Sing Se…

Listening to the plan half-heartedly, Katara watched Aang from beneath lowered lashes. The Council of Five was reviewing plans for recapturing Omashu. She could see the muscles twitch in her friend's jaw and the frustration that leapt in his gray gaze. The innocence and trusting nature had vanished from those eyes, the war having destroyed such qualities.

Disappointment was… well, disappointing.

Like the rest of them, Aang thought the war would end with the destruction of the comet. The past had been so clear, their sense of purpose set out before them like an epic saga where the good guys would win. But it hadn't worked out like that. 

Aang had defeated Ozai, but the war continued.

The Airbender slammed his fist on the table. "Why are we sitting here making plans when we should be marching on Omashu!"

Everyone jumped, including Katara. She had grown accustomed to his outbursts. 

Boomie had died during the first Fire Nation occupation of Omashu, and Aang had never forgiven himself for that. The second fall of Omashu was like rubbing salt in the emotional wound.

"Aang…" Katara tried to placate him.

"What!" he shouted, jumping to his feet.

Moving around the conference table, Katara touched his sleeve and tried to coax him out of the room.

"I'm not a child, Katara," he growled, jerking his arm from her grasp. 

"Then stop acting like one!" she retorted with a low hiss. "You're not invincible, Aang. You can't just fly to Omashu and take on the Fire Nation army."

The Earth Kingdom generals cleared the room, leaving the Avatar and Water Tribe maiden to their argument.

Steely fire danced in his eyes. His fists were clenched, and he turned his head, but not before she saw the frustrated tears begin to fall. Aang plopped into the chair and bowed his head. "I'm sorry, Katara."

She rushed him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and hugging him close. "It'll be all right, Aang."

"How can it be?" he asked, a shudder running through his lithe frame. "They keep fighting. I can't stop the war. I can't keep them from fighting."

"It isn't your fault," sighed Katara, running her palm over his shaved head.

"The Avatar is supposed to bring balance to the world. How am I supposed to do that?"

"I wish I knew, Aang." She pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead.

Aang shuddered. "I'm so tired. I don't know if I can keep fighting."

His admission humbled her. She had born witness to his doubts and disappointments in the past, and he had always found his way. But this…

There was something in his voice… a wariness she'd never heard before. He sounded so defeated. She rubbed her cheek against the top of his head and prayed to her ancestors that he would find his way.

--

Earth Kingdom farm…

Wind and snow howled through the flimsy wooden planks of the barn. The blizzard that consumed the region groaned in deadly warning. Nothing would survive outside for very long. It had been like that for three days.

Fortunately, their party was small and their livestock was plentiful. There was one ostrich-horse; Azula had met upon waking several days ago, two cow-pigs, and several chickens. Luckily, there was enough hay for the animals. The fresh snow outside provided water, and Qiang's Earthbending provided sanitation. His bending abilities even provided shower facilities… not that Azula had taken advantage of that particular accommodation yet.

Unfortunately, "Ling Ling's" Firebending abilities were useless. She couldn't Firebend around Lin Wu and Edun, seeing as Firebenders burned their home to the ground. The elderly couple had yet to realize their guests' true identities.

Azula sat on the cot and watched as "Olan" tried to start a fire. The comedic sight was a painful experience as she tried to suppress her laughter.

"Ling Ling," Olan growled, pitching his voice low so that only she could hear him. "Could you hold the drill for me. I'm sure you could handle that much."

She grimaced as she crouched next to him.

"Better yet…" He handed her the kindling. "Add the kindling as it starts to spark." His green eyes looked toward Edun, who was tending the ostrich-horse, and then to Lin Wu, who was plucking the feathers off one of the chickens. Leaning closer to his "wife," Qiang whispered into her ear, "If you want to eat sometime tonight, I suggest you start the fire. Don't let them see you Firebend."

Azula nodded, wincing as she struggled with the kindling.

"She shouldn't be out of bed," Lin Wu clucked, "let alone helping with the chores, Olan. Let me help you with the fire."

"Please," Azula replied. "I want to help. I'm stiff from staying in bed."

Lin Wu eyed her patient warily and shrugged her shoulders. "All right. As long as you feel up to it."

Nodding, Azula bundled the kindling in her hand, and Lin Wu walked away.

"Do you feel up to it?" Qiang asked softly.

His concern should have made her suspicious. Instead, it humbled her. "Yes," she answered, kneeling next to the fire pit and shivering.

Gathering the crude tools, he set them up and started working the bow around the drill. Short minutes passed before smoke started rising from the pit. "Now," he whispered.

Azula set the kindling around his efforts and set it on fire. The spark turned into a small flame, and Qiang stacked more dry moss and small pieces of wood to encourage its growth.

"Won't they be suspicious?" she whispered. 

The Earth Kingdom general smirked. "They didn't see anything. Besides, I'm tired of trying to start a fire the traditional way."

Azula frowned, shocked over his teasing admission. His smile pleased her, even though his appearance was a little worse for wear. His height alone appealed to her. His pale green eyes contrasted with his dark brown hair.

"Oh!" Lin Wu gasped behind her. "How wonderful! You started the fire already."

"Yes," Qiang replied swiftly. "My wife is lucky, but she really should get back to bed."

Azula stared at him. Her arm hurt, and she was stiff. Not to mention that she could do with a bath. "I…I would like to bathe please. Could you help me, Lin Wu?" She lifted her splinted arm for sympathy.

"Lin Wu is busy preparing the meal," Qiang responded with a knowing smirk. "I am your husband. I will assist you."

--

TBC

Author's Notes—Thanks to all who have reviewed. All reviews are greatly appreciated. They are the food that feeds the plot bunny. Be kind! Feed the bunny and review (wink, wink).


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