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The Price of Peace	By : Looneyluna Category: Avatar - The Last Airbender > Het - Male/Female > Katara/Zuko Views: 19166 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- 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.

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Chapter Seventeen –

The carriage hit a pothole and jarred Azula, but she paid little attention as she stared out the window over the familiar landscape. Farmers tilled their lands, as their wives went about peddling the crops, oblivious as to the fragility of their peaceful way of life. Peace rarely followed a coup.

Begrudgingly, Azula had to admit that her brother had done well, endearing the poor misunderstood Fire Nation to the rest of the world and compensating them accordingly. Of course, she had to chuckle. No amount of recompense can be made to the Air Nomads. What was the price for genocide anyway? Once she was on the throne, her rightful place, all that would change.

No, she didn’t have the advantage of Sozin’s comet to bring about the power her father had once envisioned for their people. Theirs was the superior element. All others would yield to the Fire Nation. The blood lust of her forefathers ran deep within her veins. She would be the one to realize generations of ambition.

A strong hand clamped around her wrist and yanked her away from the window.

“I told you to stay out of sight!” Qiang hissed sharply, the momentum of his action and the carriage causing Azula to fall face first across his lap.

Always testing her husband’s patience and never taking orders from anyone, she bucked against his authority. “You don’t tell me what to do!”

His forearm across her back, he pinned her down and lifted her skirt, exposing the naked flesh of her backside and ignoring the impatient stares of his two military advisors. He rubbed her ass before smacking it firmly and chastising his concubine. “One of these days, Azula, you’ll go too far and I will be forced to separate your conniving little head from your graceful little neck.”

The punishment stung and she straightened quickly, shoving her robes into place. Qiang was intent on listening to his advisors, a practice she had little patience for. Why he needed their advice she would never know. Advisors were useless. That was the first thing she was going to do – kill all of the advisors. She would rule with an iron fist. No one would oppose her.

“You should send word, General Qiang,” the advisor in front of him stated, a look of disdain crossing his dark features. “If you are to take your rightful place you should honor their customs and –”

“Take his rightful place!” Azula cackled. “You mean my rightful place!”

The advisor directly across from her snorted in disgust.

She made to strike at the fat man, but Qiang grabbed her hand. “Enough!” he barked, making the men jump and her smirk. “Mind your tongue, woman.”

Scoffing, Azula yanked her hand out of his grasp and crossed her arms over her chest in the manner of a petulant child.

“Continue,” her husband said and nodded to the man who handed him a scroll.

The advisor cleared his throat. “As I was saying. If you are to succeed Fire Lord Iroh, you should honor the traditions of the Fire Nation. The upper class will be resentful, to say the least. The middle class will be wary and the lower class will be… Well, they don’t matter anyway.”

Azula tapped her foot in annoyance.

“I want our arrival to be a surprise,” Qiang replied. “I’ve been up against him in battle before. He is a formidable opponent – more so organized than taken by surprised. I want him off balance. I want to gauge his reaction when I return his beloved niece.”

The advisors looked worriedly at one another, and Azula did not miss it. “You’re right to be worried, of course. It is highly unlikely that my uncle will receive me warmly. He always did prefer Zu Zu over me.”

“I wonder why,” one of the men mumbled softly.

She was on him before anyone in the carriage could react, her hands wrapped around his pudgy, sweaty neck. “You. Fat. Fucking. Pig,” she hissed, enjoying the smell of his flesh burning beneath her hands.

A rock hard grip circled her neck and jerked her off the man. The short scuffle was enough to bring the carriage to an abrupt halt as Qiang brought Azula to task for her rash behavior. “Leave us!” he commanded, squeezing his concubine’s windpipe with enough force that her lips were turning blue.

The underlings exited the violent scene with haste, slamming the wooden door behind them. “Liability,” one of them murmured, encouraging Azula to struggle against her husband’s will.

“Stop it,” Qiang hissed, spittle wetting her cheek. “Damn Agni! What is wrong with you, wife?”

“I’m not your wife,” she wheezed, determined not to let him break her. “I’m your concubine.”

His fingers grasped her fine cheeks and turned her in his lap. “You are mine.”

Now straddling him, she could feel the press of his strength against her. She stared into his eyes, refusing to submit to him. “No I’m not.”

His cold blue eyes stared into her dark brown ones, studying the puzzle before him. Her beauty rivaled no others. Her treacherous nature was legend. Sighing, he recalled the first time he’d met her.

Once his men discovered who the woman was who washed up along the river shore, Qiang had her brought before him. At first, he thought it was a trap, the Fire Lord sending his daughter to spy on him. The burned brand of the Fire Nation lineage on her left hip had given her identity away.

Ever since his father had told him of his birthright, Qiang had become obsessed with it, scheming of ways to take his place among the honored ranks of barbarism in the halls of Sozin. Azula was just an added bonus. She had been stripped of her red Fire Nation uniform and dressed in the finest of silk green robes and nothing else – as was the tradition of an Earth Kingdom concubine. Her topknot had been cut and the eternal flame ornament removed from her hair.

Knowing how dangerous Princess Azula of the Fire Nation truly was, he had her bound and gagged. The rumors of her skill frightened his men. Some said she could call lightening with her voice. He originally planned on killing her and sending her head to her father, but there was no strategic value in it once he realized how little Ozai valued the beautiful treasure of his daughter.

She showed no fear upon waking, staring at him silently, her dark eyes challenging him to untie her. If he demonstrated any weakness, it was that he did remove the gag. He wanted to see if she really could call lightening from the sky.

“Thank you,” she said, pursing her lips in contemplation and looking about the tent. She saw herself in a mirror and scowled. “You should be honored by my presence. Do you know who I am?” Her tone was haughty and arrogant, her royal upbringing carrying through in the most difficult of times.

“You are my concubine,” he replied with a smirk.

“You would defile me in such a manner?” she scoffed. “I am Princess Azula, heir to the throne of the Fire Nation. Daughter of the Flame –”

“My whore,” he interrupted her rant, advancing on her and opening the folds of green silk before him. He stared at her pale skin, ripcord and lean. She was developed for one so young, a ripe flower for a lucky soul to pluck from the vine.

She twisted her bound hands that hung above her head. He could see the murderous flame in her eyes. If she could have, she would have killed him for his insolence.

“You are nobody here, Your Royal Highness. You are my concubine,” he continued, his inflection contemptuous at best.

“So you mean to rape me,” she observed coolly. “I do so admire a man who has his way with women, especially ones who are tied up.”

Even though he had wanted to sate himself within her slender body, Qiang waited. “I am not stupid, Azula,” he whispered against the taut flesh of her belly, pressing the lightest kiss there. “You wish to goad me into untying you. It won’t work.”

“Why must everything be a challenge?” her husband asked, releasing her throat, but grasping her upper arms and giving her a little shake. He pounded his fist on the side of the carriage. “Move on!”

Instead of answering him, she turned her head and stared out the window.

He placed a biting kiss along her stubborn jaw, hardly concealing the violent lust that went hand in hand with loving Azula. “Do you not want the throne? Do you want to turn back?”

“No,” she seethed. “I want the throne. I want it for myself.” Her eyes flashed red, her temper churning. “It’s mine.”

Qiang bowed his head and chuckled, his hands making quick work of the silk robe around her. “So you do not want to share it, is that it?” he murmured against her erect nipples, teasing them with his breath. “You’ll share your body, but not your throne. Tsk, tsk, my love. Stop being selfish.”

He combed his fingers through her dark curls, pushing them easily between her folds and touching her molten core. She was wet and tight, always hot and ready to fuck. “You’re going to have to share someday.”

Azula arched her back and groaned. “No. I. Won’t.”

Rubbing his wet thumb over the swollen nub of her clitoris as his fingers stroked her depths, Qiang grinned. She was a passionate woman, ruled by it and easily seduced. Sex was his greatest weapon and greatest reward when it came to his lover.

“The Fire Nation is my home,” she gasped. “…My throne. You are the bastard son of a whore. You have no right to the throne. You’re just using me –”

He silenced her whining with a forceful kiss and rocked against her in mock intimacy. Breaking the kiss, he grabbed her hips and kept up the frantic pace. “For your information, Your Highness, I am the rightful heir to the throne. I am the next in line. Everyone thinks you’re dead. Your uncle invited me to the capital, not you.

Wrapping his hand around her neck, he held her still. “You would do wise to stay in my good graces, Azula. I am the only person keeping you alive. I could just turn you over to your uncle and let him have at you. I’m not so sure he is as forgiving as your father,” he snapped, pushing her off him.

--

TBC
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The Price of Peace