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Caught	By : whirleeq Category: Avatar - The Last Airbender > Het - Male/Female Views: 24537 -:- 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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This is a little 'what if' scenario, based off of the season 2 finale. What if Katara and Aang did not get away? Sick and twisted, I know, but this pairing has long been in my head... just couldn't think of a way to pull it off until now. Funny that my muse leaves me alone and vulnerable for nearly a year, only to come back with such a crack!pairing... o'ell, can't fight the tides.

Btw, this is nearly finished... I will probably post a chapter every day, or every few days, depending on my schedule.

She stood quietly against the wall, watching the uneven rise and fall of his chest as the fever burned through his body, causing him to shiver. There was a fine sheen of sweat covering every inch of his pale skin, glistening in the soft, flickering lamp light. He was moaning every so often, calling out for his friends, but mostly for that annoying water tribe peasant who had tried to save him.

A slow smile spread across her shadowed lips. She had given that girl to her brother as a 'reward' for his timely assistance. It was a deliciously satisfying punishment, seeing her fear and hatred and knowing how much additional pain it was going to cause her favorite prisoner.

Her new 'toy'.

Oh, how satisfying it was to see him there, shackled and dazed, under her power at last. He wouldn't be here forever, once her father received word, but for now he was hers. And she meant to take full advantage of it. It gave her a secret, wicked thrill, having this god-boy completely under her control.

She couldn't help it – she snickered softly to herself.

Suddenly, he stilled. His back was turned to her, baring the wound that she had caused to her view.

It pleased her to see it.

“Katara?” He called out softly, his voice hopeful, wanting. He turned towards her slowly, his eyes bloodshot and blurred with tears. Drunk with fever as he was, he didn't seem to recognize her, opening up several interesting and amusing possibilities.

“Shhh,” she whispered, as she slowly approached him. His glazed eyes followed her, yet they were not really seeing her at all. She knelt down in front of him, frowning a little at the discomfort she felt when her knees hit the cold stone floor. “I'm here.”

He lunged into her arms, his forehead scalding her as he nestled it against her neck. The cold steel of his shackles scraped against her uncomfortably as he dug them into her side.

She felt his sigh against her neck and frowned, feeling uncomfortably vulnerable with the intimate position they were in... as if they were lovers. Cupping his face in her hands gently at first, she pulled him slightly away from her, digging her nails in the soft flesh of his cheeks once he was level with her own face. His eyes widened slowly, recognition swirling in their deep gray depths, followed by a shiver of fear that began at his temple and travelled the full length of his half-naked body before leaving him.

“Azula.” He whispered, his heart racing so much that she could actually see the skin on the left side of his chest fluttering in response.

She raked her nails down his neck, drawing blood, and causing him to wince with pain. He did not cry out though, and for that she felt an unbidden and unwanted tremor of respect before she discarded it.

“How dare you speak to me so familiarly, Avatar," she spat. "You will call me Princess Azula, or better yet, Mistress. Understand, brat?”

His fear seemed to disappear for a moment, his eyes burning with rage as he hissed at her, his voice bitter and lucid and dripping with sarcasm.

“Yes, Mistress."

She found his hate to be far more alluring than his fear and she shivered, her toes curling. Her lips flushed red and twitched slightly, showing the merest hint of a smile.

“Good. You'll find I can be very agreeable, Avatar, when you submit to me.” She purred into his ear. She wet her lips and let them briefly touch the warm, soft skin of his neck before pulling away. He shivered again, his eyes glazed in forbidden pleasure before constricting again in hate. In a show of defiance, he pulled away, in the process turning his back to her,

“Go 'way.” He mumbled, once again sounding like a scared little boy. She had unnerved him and the knowledge of it made her laugh, openly and loudly, the sound of her voice vibrant and yet eerie as it echoed off the walls of the dark stone cell.

She knew what she looked like. She was 'deadly beautiful', or so she had often been told, and she had a lot of practice in using her looks to her benefit. Being beautiful was just another form of power and Azula loved power in all it's forms. She had brought grown men to their knees on her beauty alone, and it thrilled her to know that this god-child was not immune to it either. It gave her an edge – another way to bring him to his knees before her, and shame him in the process.

She leaned forward, following him in his retreat, until her breasts pressed against his back, knowing he could feel their softness even through the thick fabric of her robes. She worked her hands around him, tantalizingly slowly, following the path of the tattoos on his arms and eventually stopping on the metal shackles binding his wrists. Again, she pressed her lips against his ear and nipped his earlobe, eliciting a small gasp from her captive.

“Are these bothering you?” She purred, taking delight in his erratic breathing. “I can have them removed, you know. That is, if you are a good little boy.”

He whimpered, turning to her, his face contorted into a mask of confusion and something else. Something she recognized, yet was fairly sure that he didn't, which made it all the more amusing. Such innocence.

Shivering, the boy shook his head as if to clear it, and cried out softly.

“Princess Azula... go away... please," he begged her, his lips trembling.

Snickering, she kissed him softly, pulling his bottom lip between her teeth and reveling in the not so innocent moan this earned her before she pulled away and stood, watching with satisfaction as his face fell, the fever bringing a bright red tint to his soft and somewhat plushy cheeks.

“Alright... for now... but I will be back, Avatar. And I own you now... don't forget that.” She said, and with one last laugh, she left him, cold and confused and full of despair.
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