Title: Third Life
Author: overlithe
Fandom: Avatar: the Last Airbender
Summary: Set several years post-War. In the Earth Kingdom, Azula is captured by Smellerbee and the remnants of the Freedom Fighters. A battle of wits ensues.
Characters/Pairings: Azula, Smellerbee, Longshot; gen
Prompt: avatar_500 prompt 024. Contest; fanfic100 prompt 022. Enemies
Word Count: 500
Rating: T
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and concepts created by Michael Dante DiMartino and Bryan Konietzko, and owned by Nickelodeon and various other corporations/people. I'm not making any money and do not intend any copyright or trademark infringement.
Author's Note: Azula is one of my favourite AtLA characters. Haters to the left. :D
Third Life
Rope dug into her flesh. Shadows darted across branches and cut her down before she could untangle her wrists. She slammed to the ground with a grunt of pain and bit her lip so the dust and dry leaves wouldn't make her cough.
'Tie her hands.'
'I don't want to fight you,' Azula said, but a knee rammed into her back. Steel and arrowheads pointed at her. She offered no resistance as a man bound her wrists, tight enough to numb. 'Believe me, if I wanted to kill you, you'd be dead already.' She glanced casually around her. Bowstrings grew tauter.
'I know who you are.' The woman who'd spoken before edged forward. Lines of red paint slashed her face like claw marks. 'You're that Fire Nation princess. The crazy one,' she added grimly.
'Former princess,' Azula snapped. A glance passed between the woman and the man closest to her.
They're talking about you. For a moment, Azula was sure the forest filled with whispers. She bit her lip again, harder; her thoughts sharpened. She could barely feel the chill of sweat on her palms. 'If you're thinking of holding me for ransom, you'd better have a high tolerance for disappointment.' The corners of her mouth twisted into a grin. 'Isn't it terrible when all your hard work just gets you cast aside in the end? Can't really put your trust in anyone these—'
'Shut up.'
Azula fell silent, but she could feel the ripple passing through her captors, subtle and sharp.
So you're not completely useless after all.
The woman stepped forward. 'This is a trap. You've probably got your friends waiting for your signal.'
Azula let out a snort of derision. 'Friends? I thought you knew who I am. No, I'm here alone. Just like you and your ragtag little bunch are alone. Because you fought for something that wasn't this. Not a peace where the air is full of Fire Nation airships and everything—' A second's pause, and even though their faces were just as rock-hard, rock-still as before, she knew she had their attention. Her throat was dry. She ignored it. '—inconvenient got buried. But some things are too big to be buried, aren't they? Some things demand… retribution.'
'What do you care? You're Fire Nation.'
'Which is why I hate them even more than you do. It's the personal touch.' Her tone grew a fraction less brittle. 'We can do more together. Much more.'
The woman took another step, unsheathed a blade. 'Smellerbee…' the man beside her said, but she just reached behind Azula and sliced the cords binding her wrists.
'I don't trust you,' she said, blade a whisper away from Azula's throat.
'You won't have to.'
'Bring her,' Smellerbee said, and stepped back. Someone instantly moved forward to place a blindfold on Azula.
She stood up, wiped crushed leaves off her clothes. The next thought was hers alone. That was easier than I expected.
Doing someone else's dirty work often was.
++The End++
Author's Note/Disclaimer: This ficlet is very, very loosely based on the Criminal Minds episode Third Life and the David Cronenberg film Eastern Promises. Which I may have now spoiled for you, sorry. ;)