Adult-FanFiction.org : Cartoons

Prisoner of War	By : Looneyluna Category: Avatar - The Last Airbender > Het - Male/Female Views: 8510 -:- 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
- 1
- 2
Prisoner of WarbyLooneyluna

Summary: Aang stopped Ozai from harnessing the power of Sozin’s comet, but the war between the Fire Nation and the Earth Kingdom goes on. Zuko is Fire Lord and Azula is “banished” to fight in the North. Just when she thinks things can’t get any worse, an Earth Kingdom general captures her. This is their story.
--
Chapter One
--
She was so tired. It wasn’t the kind of tired that one got from lack of sleep. Her bones ached with wariness. And she was only eighteen! She shouldn’t have these kinds of aches and pains, but commanding her ragtag group of men over the mountainous terrain would weaken a lesser man, much less a woman.
This was her punishment.
This was her exile.
There was no love lost between her and her brother. The war with the Earth Kingdom waged on, endless in its monotony. The opportunity to harness Sozin’s Comet had come and gone. The Avatar had foiled her father’s attempts to use the comet to end the war, and in doing so, had killed him.
Taking advantage of the chaos, Zuko had claimed the throne and the war had continued. Resentful and bitter, her brother had consigned her to the farthest command possible away from the Fire Nation. She was a figurehead, not meant to lead the ragtag band of misfits she had been saddled with. Zuko had sent her here to suffer. That petty bastard would never get over the fact that she had hunted him at one point.
The bastard! Azula couldn’t blame Zuko, though. She would have done the same thing to him. Actually, she would have made sure that he met with some unfortunate end. Preferably a slow and painful one!
Squeezing the water from the sponge, she ran it over her body and shivered. The water was heated, but the air around her was not. Yes, there was a fire in the cast iron stove, but it did little to dissipate the chill in the air. As quickly as she could, she hurried about her bath, the luxury she missed most, and pulled her crimson robe on. She forwent her usual ornaments, opting to leave her long, ebony hair down.
Zuko hadn’t even allowed her to bring a lady-in-waiting. She just hoped that she didn’t die in this Agni-forsaken hellhole.
The blessed moment of tranquility ended as a panicked shout pierced the night. It was followed by other shouts and the horrendous sound of the earth being torn asunder. Tying her sash with a vicious jerk, she ran toward the tent flap. But she did not get very far as the ground beneath her feet gave way and the material of her tent came down upon her.
--
From his vantage point there wasn’t much he could see. The moon was new and the night was dark. Only the light from the torches down below cast any shadows. The group of Fire Nation soldiers was small, according to his scout. It was actually quite insignificant, but they had been dogging his every attempt to cross the mountainous path. By the end of the night, they would no longer pose a threat to him or his men. They would be dead; their carcasses impaled on spikes as a warning to anyone else who tried to follow them.
General Qiang spurred his ostrich horse forward to assess his men’s work. Standing at six foot four, his mount was awkward as he moved over the rocky terrain. He would probably be better off walking to see the carnage. His mount stumbled and he cursed, climbing off the beast and hitting it on its hindquarters to send it back to his meager camp.
He was a lower-ranking Earth Kingdom general, sent into the mountainous range where the northern Air Nomads used to live. This was the place one was sent by the Council of Five when they were displeased with you.
Beneath his feet, he could feel the fissures of earth tremble as his men tore the enemy camp apart. The calls of mercy were growing fainter as his men slaughtered the Fire Nation soldiers. But it wasn’t those calls that stirred or caught his attention. An unearthly scream tore through the night. He could see the flashes of fire and feel the heat as a Firebender defended himself.
“The other side,” one of his men shouted. “Up there!”
Qiang’s interest was piqued. Apparently, they had a Firebender in their midst and he was giving his men a run for their money. He so enjoyed a worthy hunt. Perhaps the man could provide him some much-needed entertainment. Moving toward the burning camp, he stopped in his tracks. Someone was up ahead. He could see the faint outline crouching in the brush. Perhaps it was his Firebender.
Giving his quarry a brief second to prepare, Qiang cleared his throat and rooted himself within his element. Hopefully, the duel would challenge him.
A soft gasp preceded the pale blue flames that caught the middle of his long black queue. The smell of singed hair assailed his nostrils as he kicked the ground and knocked his opponent down. Instinct dictated he strike while his prey was down, but the sound of a rather indignant feminine “umpf” reached his ears.
A concentrated fire blast headed his way and he blocked it with a wall of rocks.
“Over there!” a man called to the others.
The female shadow turned to run, but Qiang entrapped her feet with rocks. She stumbled forward, the root of her fighting stance broken and frail.
“Bastard of a whore!” she hissed, trying to crawl away. She kicked one of the rock-boots off and struck out with her free limb, causing him to take a step back. She kicked the other boot off and jumped up.
Centering himself, Qiang angled a column of soft earth toward her upper torso. As the light from her burning camp cast haphazard shadows about, he watched his opponent fall to the ground unconscious.
--
Moaning, Azula sat up. At least, she tried to sit up as best she could. It was a difficult thing to do since her hands were tied to a pole behind her back. She shivered, her tattered robe barely covering her modest feminine curves. Jerking away from the pole, she only succeeded in causing pain to shoot from her wrists to her shoulders. The material of the tent shivered high above her head as it protested the movement against one of its supports.
She heard laughter in the distance and froze as she studied her surroundings. The familiar red and black colors of her country had been replaced with the green and brown Earth Kingdom tones. The walls of the tent held no ornamental decorations. Instead, they were decorated with hides and skins of various animals in an effort to ward off the bitter chill of the region.
Much like her tent, there was a cast iron stove that did little to heat the room. There was a large pallet near the stove where the owner obviously slept, because the various pelts and blankets on top of it were strewn about in a haphazard manner. A large table took up the rest of the space in the tent. It was covered in scrolls, which covered a map of troop movements and tactics.
Studying the map, Azula noticed the region of mountains she had been consigned to as punishment for her transgressions. The mountains were a vast wasteland of peaks and valleys that offered very little in the way of strategic value. Why were they here? This area was no good to either side. Only Air Nomads would willingly come to this place and they were all dead with exception of the Avatar.
The entrance flap whisked into the air as her enemy entered the tent. As he stood to his full height, she had to crane her neck to look at him. The man cut an impressive figure. Her eyes darted to the suit of armor that hung on a mannequin in the corner. It was a general’s armor – a suit that would protect the powerful lines of his broad shoulders and…
Azula gulped as she caught sight of the hair on his chest that peaked out from the deep vie of his robe. With exception to her father, she’d never known a man with such height. The men in the royal circles were short. Most of the generals in her father’s court were graying or bald. The man before her was tall and hairy. Instead of the traditional queue, he wore his hair down, touching his collar.
“When you’re done gawking, perhaps you would like something to eat, your highness,” the man announced, the deep timber of his voice startling her from her blatant observations.
She looked to the ground, playing the role of captured consort to the best of her ability, which was difficult considering the fact that she had never played the role of weakling in her entire eighteen years of life. If they realized who she was, they would undoubtedly ransom her to Zuko. Once the ransom went unpaid, they would kill her.
Zuko sent her here to die. Of that, she was certain. Her brother’s madness had endeared her toward him at first, but she should have known that Zu Zu would have turned on her. Yes, she had planned on betraying him when their alliance had served out its purpose, but he had gained the upper hand with father’s death. Since neither of them had heirs, he had evoked the right of the first born. The council had had no recourse but to cede all titles and honors to her bastard brother.
The only satisfaction she had been able to take was that Iroh had died in prison before her brother could liberate him. Zuko’s grief over the death of his beloved uncle had been most rewarding. Unfortunately, Iroh’s death had sealed her fate. Zuko couldn’t kill her, but he could make her life a living hell. So here she was, consigned to the ends of the earth, captured by some Earth Kingdom general that had obviously pissed someone higher up in his command off. Why else would he and his troops be here, in a mountain region that was so insignificant that it barely rated mention on most maps?
A piece of bread landed at her feet and she scooted away from it.
“You best eat while I’m feeling charitable, princess,” the general stated, folding his arms over his chest and scowling at her.
She froze. That was the second title he had used while addressing her. Perhaps the secret of her identity had already been revealed. If she ever caught the betrayer, she’d turn him into a crispy critter.
He chuckled mirthlessly. “Right now, you are probably plotting vengeance on the poor soul who gave up your secret, Princess Azula. Rest assured, none of your men lived long enough to give away any state secrets.”
Nudging the piece of bread with his boot, the general approached her.
Azula straightened, tugging on the ropes and hoping to free herself. Her short-lived role as insignificant Fire Nation consort died a quick death. The man knew who and what she was. There was no turning back. She met his gaze with hatred in her eyes. “Release me and I might let you live.”
She was unprepared for his roar of laughter and it showed when she jumped.
“Your reputation precedes you, your royal highness,” he bantered, tossing the flame adornment that normally sat on her topknot to her feet. “Between this and the few letters we found, it wasn’t difficult to ascertain your identity.”
“You should have burned these,” he teased, waving the papers beneath her nose. “Now I know where to go to find willing women for my men. Even if they are Fire Nation whores.”
Pulling on the ropes, Azula sneered. She almost had one hand out. All she would need would be one hand to kill the man. “I don’t know how willing Mai would be, seeing as she’s dead. Ty Lee, on the other hand is very flexible and would probably enjoy the work out, playing with your men before killing them.”
Ignoring the pain in her wrist as she forced her wrist through the rope, she freed her hand and struck. The general caught her hand with little effort, the amusement leaving his eyes.
“I’ve already lost the symbol of my honor thanks to you. I had to cut what was left of my queue because of you,” he sneered, running his other hand through his hair. “I do not wish to lose anything else of value, little Firebender.”
Azula scowled at him. Up close, she could feel the heat from his body, which reminded her how cold she really was. She shivered and tried to extract her hand from his grasp, but he forced her fingers to his lips and tickled the fingertip pads with his warm breath.The sparkle in his light green eyes was unmistakable.
She was familiar with lust. Many suitors had tried for her hand in marriage, but none had succeeded. Now they were missing a hand. Her father had raised her to rule, not breed the next generation. Watching the members of the Fire Nation court, she had learned that sex was a weapon just like everything else. She just had never used it as such before.
For one, sex looked uncomfortable. Secondly, it looked like only the man enjoyed it. Thirdly, she was much too busy to seek out a lover, much less care about the act. As he held her hand, she felt something – an ache she had never felt before.
“So am I not even to be ransomed? Did you go through the motions of murdering my men and capturing me just to rape and kill me? I’d say I’m flattered, but I’m not.”
He leered at her, stepping behind her and twisting her arm behind her. Instead of tying her freed hand to the pole, he released her. “You should be flattered. I could just toss you out of my tent and let my men have you, but I have other plans for you.”
She didn’t know whether to be scared or not. Frankly, she didn’t scare easily. She was conditioned to think things through…unlike her brother. Digging her numb toes into the ground, she tugged her robe into place and rubbed her wrists.
“And before you start burning down my tent, you may want to think about what awaits you outside my protection,” the general growled threateningly. “Whereas you had a ragtag bunch of misfits at your command, I have fifty-eight highly skilled mercenaries under mine. Half of them are Earthbenders. Two of them are Waterbenders. Factoring in the possibility that you might be able to disarm my militia, it is highly unlikely that you could best thirty benders, and I’m not even including myself.
“Even if you did manage to get loose, you’d die of exposure.” His gaze raked over her body, pointedly lingering on the gap of her robe, which gave him an unobstructed view of creamy flesh.
Closing her eyes, Azula rubbed her hands together and focused her Breathe of Fire into her extremities. She winced as her feet started to tingle. “If I had a say in the matter, I would rather die from exposure.”
Circling her, he chuckled. “You can only die of exposure if you make it through me and my men.”
“If I made it through you, I would own your men,” she retorted hotly. He was behind her, the heat from his body touching her in a manner that was completely alien to her.
“I do so enjoy verbal foreplay,” he murmured softly, his breath stirring her hair.
“So that’s your big plan – rape me?” She almost stuttered. Her teeth were clenched so tightly that if she relaxed, they would chatter. Her stomach lurched as the lurid situation played out before her. Whatever she did, she would never show him fear. She would not beg. She would make sure that he suffered for his pleasure. She would never give the bastard the satisfaction.
His hand settled on her shoulder, gently rubbing the tense flesh and moving the material of the robe to the side. “It wouldn’t be rape.”
“Yes, it would.” Azula shivered, the knots in her stomach growing tighter and tighter. Not that she was an overly sentimental sap, but she had envisioned so much more for herself than this. To fall from royalty to concubine in one fell swoop was debasing and demoralizing. “My body and favors are mine to give. If you take me against my wishes, that is considered rape.
“Then, of course, you’ve probably gone through your pathetic life, taking whatever you wanted whenever you pleased. That is your nature,” she hissed softly.
The general moved the material of her robe to cover her shoulder. “And what would you know of the nature of man?”
Turning, she stared at him. “You can’t help yourself. You’re a slave to your basic needs. If you’re hungry, you eat. If you’re tired, you sleep. If you’re…” Her courage faltered.
“If I’m what, princess?” he teased, moving away from her and opening a trunk.
“If you have an itch to scratch, you scratch it,” she finished, using words that weren’t as crass as her original thought.
“So what could I possibly exchange with you to gain your favor?” he asked, without looking at her. He pulled a pair of fur-lined boots and a pair of socks out of the trunk.
Azula glanced at the comfort items longingly. She didn’t know how much longer she would be able to stand there. Her feet were already numb again and there was only so much bending she could use to warm them without actually burning herself. But she bit her lip and looked away.
“Kiss me and you may have your pick.” He held up the thick socks that were two sizes too large and the shoes that were equally as large, his grin dancing at the corner of his mouth.
Folding her arms across her chest, she eyed him suspiciously. The man before her wanted something. She watched as he weighed the shoes in one hand and the socks in the other, but what she wanted was not being bargained – her freedom.
“A kiss for a promise,” she countered his offer. “I’ll kiss you if you promise not to rape me.”
He gave her a feral look. “How do you know I won’t take what I want anyway?”
“I don’t,” she replied, a knowing smirk gracing her lips. She knew one thing he wanted – her. That was weakness number one. Exploit weakness and expose more. That’s what her father had always taught her.
Setting the boots and socks upon the table, Qiang stepped forward to receive his kiss. He should probably have his head examined. Every fiber of his being shouted for him to take her. It was within his rights. She was a prisoner of war, but she was also his ticket out of this place.
He had sent a message to his superiors. Surely, her capture would earn him a better command. All he had to do was wait for their reply and hope that his good fortune continued. In the meantime, he would entertain himself with the Fire Nation princess.He had to give her credit. She didn’t even flinch as she leaned toward him and placed her lips chastely against his.
His cold blood heated at her touch as he gathered her against him and demanded more than what she was offering him. Thrusting his tongue past her lips, he sought to taste her passion. Her scent assailed him, adding to the lust driving his plundering tongue. If a kiss felt this good, he dare not imagine what it felt like within the heat of her body.
Summoning the strength to pull away, Qiang scowled at his prize. She swayed against him, unconsciously licking her wet, swollen lips. With a vicious curse, he stepped back and picked up the boots and socks, thrusting them into her arms.
“Put these on before you get frostbite,” he growled softly. “I can’t have my prize prisoner dying. A dead prisoner tends to lose its value. A sick prisoner is even less valuable.”
Azula grabbed the socks and boots and put as much distance between them as possible. She sat on the edge of his bed and rubbed her feet.
Turning away, he pulled a pien-fu out of the trunk and tossed the pieces to her. She said nothing as she yanked the socks onto her feet, the tumble of her dark hair hiding her face from his view. She set the boots to the side and gathered the trousers next to her.
Standing, she turned her back to him and pulled them on beneath her robe. With a disapproving sneer, she folded the top of the ensemble over her arm and gave him a pointed glare.
Were he a gentleman, he would have given her the privacy she seemed intent upon right now. But he was no gentleman. He grinned, silently challenging her to part with her modesty in front of him.
It was not a wise thing to do, for she rose to the challenge with the elegance she was born to. She untied her sash and removed her tattered robe, showing him what he could take by force if he wanted to. Bruises marred the perfection of her pale skin.
Shaking his head and ridding himself of his treacherous thoughts, Qiang moved toward the exit. “Stay in the tent. If you venture outside, you will ‘entertain’ my men. Is that understood? If you try to escape, you will be hunted and returned to camp. If you do that, no promise shall protect you.”
--
TBC
- 1
- 2
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