Alright, hey everyone! This is my first story, so forgive me if it's a little shaky, but I'm completely open toconstructive criticism! R&R!
There she stood.
She was glowing, her skin so chocolaty dark, covered in nothing but a cream slip.
Who was she?
Her eyes against the midnight sky were piercing pools of an icy blue, her hair chocolate brown with slight curls that seemed to flow with the rhythm of the wind. She stood there...waiting.
For what?
Suddenly, the midnight sky turned silk red, the stars turned to blood, pouring out of their once bright wonder. The woman's hair caught fire, charred to blackness. Her icy blue eyes turned became bloodshot, drenched in fear and despair.
What was happening?
Her flowing body began to melt away in the blood stained background. A cruel and sinister cackle filled the air with sheer chill, bringing the woman down to the depths of the flames within. The sinister laughter came from a serpent. The serpent's eyes were startling gold slits, staring admiringly at the half-dead woman. With a hiss the serpent began to wrap itself around her. The woman screamed as she saw the sharp fangs of the serpent slicing into her neck. "Jet!" She cried. "Jet, Jet, Jet!
"JET!" His eyes opened, only to see Longshot looking suspiciously into his eyes.
"Jet, you alright?" Longshot wondered. "Bad dream?"
"No, I'm fine." He replied, realizing that his body was covered in a cold sweat. He felt as if he were wrapped tightly in a wool blanket, when he was only wearing loosely fitted pants. Jet felt his head, to make sure everything was in place.
"Well shit, you sure were makin' a lot of noise for not having any nightmares." Longshot retorted.
Jet laughed, Longshot sure had come along way from when he first joined the Freedom Fighters. Then he was a young, bony, shy boy who had amazing abilities with a bow and arrow who would only talk to Smellerbee. Now, he's a seventeen-year-old punk with a ripped out body and tricked out archery skills.
"I'm fine." Jet assured him. "Sorry for if you were worried."
"Worried? Please. I was just gonna tell you to shut your trap when you're having little fantasies."Jet's eyes turned cold and Longshot smirked, he knew Jet would never have nightmares.
"Will you two shut up and sleep already? God if I wanted this much noise I could've gone to the fucking tavern."
And that was the raspy voice of Smellerbee. Her features had also changed dramatically over the past years as a Fighter. Jet thought of her as his own sister, but she was simply too beautiful for him not to think of her any other way. Her buzzed cut hair grew long and wavy, now down to her chest, and her stout body had toned perfectly after years on endless switchblade training. And her big, chocolate brown eyes had let go of the fear they used to hold, now they were dark as night and raged with rebellion.
"Hey, no one's stopping you." Longshot said. "If you want to go get laid by some Fire Nation sleaze bag, be my guest."
"Oh here we go." Jet said. These two quarreled constantly. At first, Jet thought it was just the beauty of hormones.
"Some Fire Nation sleaze bag?" Well, they'd probably have way more class than some washed out hooker from the local whorehouse!" Smellerbee retorted.
"That's it!" Longshot stood up.
"What, you wanna go?" Smellerbee challenged. She jumped out of her bed, Jet was slightly embarrassed to see that she had nothing but a chest wrap covering her torso. He stood up.
"God that's enough! It's the middle of the fucking night, and we have a big day ahead of us tomorrow. So let's put our personal issues behind us, and think, no, dream about every single detail and how it can be perfected. We're coming up to the big day. We've been plotting it for three fricking years now, and we can't mess it up."
Longshot and Smellerbee became solemn, and slipped silently back into their cots. Jet pulled the covers over his bare chest, hoping the strange dream was only a mere hallucination of a hangover. Though, deep down, he knew it meant far more then an overdose of alcohol.
--
Katara sat in darkness of her cell. She was hopeless. Her hands ached of being chained behind her back for days on end, she had grown tired of seeing the same gray wall every day. She had grown tired of never knowing what time of day it was because she had no window to see the light or darkness of the world passing her by. She was sick of not being able to talk to anyone. She was weak. She was alone. And she was going crazy.
Her dreams of Aang, Toph and Sokka coming to rescue had grown dead and useless. She knew they were dead. Azula said so. She cried endlessly when the golden-eyed witch told her, but now every time she thought of Aang being beheaded, Toph being crushed by her own element, or Sokka's body becoming a charred corpse, her eyes remained dry. She just kept thinking that she would soon join them. All the pain and torture Azula had put her through would come to an end soon enough, she just had to wait for it.
The excruciating pain of waiting, that was what drove Katara insane. Sure, it killed when she was branded with the Fire Nation insignia on her wrist, forever making her a pet to the Fire Nation, or when she would go weeks without food or water, begging for a drop of water to quench her thirsty lips, when she was whipped so many times that her flesh was torn away and her bone was visible, or when Azula became so disgusted with Katara that she was thrown to the female-flesh thirsty guards, ripping off her rags and taking the last of her dignity.
But all that meant nothing now. She was immune to anything. After all, when you've seen the Devil and puts you through Hell countless times, you have to become immune to anything else. Katara was without emotion. She just stared into nothingness. Waiting.
There was a screech of iron, and a dim light shone through the door. Katara didn't look up, she just kept staring. Trying so hard to only see the Light that held her inches away from her family.
"Get up." The masked guard ordered roughly. This guard always talked like he had an apple stuck in his throat, so Katara called him Lumpy. She had pet names for all the guards, it made her feel less of an animal. After all, the nicest name she had ever been given was Pussy.
Katara sat and did nothing.
"Get up!" The guard demanded, kicking Katara in her ribs. She winced, and strained for the energy to stand. Lumpy helped Katara off the cold floor, he was a nicer guard, she thought. He put a manacle around her hands and held the connecting chain in his hand. They slowly walked out of the dungeon to an area Katara was not familiar with. Azula and two servants stood waiting next to a candle lit table.
"Evening." Azula smirked. "Have a seat." Katara sat, thankful of the soft cushion relieving her bum from its pain. The golden-eyed serpent continued speaking. "As you know throughout the months you've been locked up we've had you through some pretty... disturbing circumstances, have we not?"
"You have." Katara croaked through her dry and cracked lips. As much as she hated it, she knew better than to not answer Azula.
Azula smiled slyly. "Well, I have a proposition for you. It would turn the tables dramatically.. . . on your part." She stated "dramatically" in a very suspicious manner.
"I'm open to suggestions." Katara moaned slightly as her lips started to bleed.
"Guards, dismissed." The golden-eyed serpent ordered. The guards left on command, disappearing into the darkness of the palace.
"I'm not sure if you have any knowledge about royal entity, but it states in the Code that any male heir to the throne must breed an heir himself before receiving the royal crown." She sat down across Katara, watching her movement like that of a hawk. "Unfortunately, the current Firelord, my father, must be deceased before any male heir can take the throne, nevertheless reproduce a second heir."
"Well it would seem easier to just have your assassinated" Katara stated vaguely. Azula cackled, she liked this girl's sense of style.
"It would seem so," She replied, "But this just seems easier because you really don't have much say in the matter." She looked at her nails. "So, I suppose that you are now my brother's little sex slave. . .I must say you are the most beautiful he will have had in a while."
Katara's eyes widened. "Could I not just chose death as a refusal?"
"You could," Azula smirked, "but I simply won't let you." She paused. "I take your silence as a 'yes', then? Wonderful. I'll see to it that you are properly taken care of from now on. . .Well, to my standards." She smiled and left, her footsteps disappearing in the darkness. Katara sat bluntly in the chair. What the hell just happened? The servant came towards her.
"Miss," She said, not looking much older than thirteen, "Would you care for a bath before seeing his highness?" Katara nodded. At least clean hygiene would come out of this nightmare.
--
Aaaand cut! That's all so far...what's gonna happen? Hmm, who's the smexy girl in Jet's dream? What's going to happen to Katara? Am I smelling some lemony goodness to come? Bwahaha who knows? Review, please!!
