Adult-FanFiction.org : Cartoons

Prisoner of War	By : Looneyluna Category: Avatar - The Last Airbender > Het - Male/Female Views: 8511 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar: The Last Airbender, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 10
- 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).
- 10
- 11
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Prisoner of War