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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
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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. Of course, given the chance, she would.

Yes, Qiang had given her little food. 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.

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TBC
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Prisoner of War