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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
- 6
- 7
- 8
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.
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Prisoner of War