"You're lying," he said plainly.
She hated him for that—always knowing when she lied and spoke truthfully.
"Why would I lie about that?" Azula answered, looking at the reflection of the man behind her. She gave her glossy hair one more carelessly graceful stroke of the brush, as if to dismiss his impression of her truthfulness.
"Because you're not going to visit Ty Lee, but you can't tell your husband what you're really going to do. So you lie," Azula's husband answered.
She really hated him for it. She hated how, of all the things that had been taken from her—her throne, her firebending, her political power—her great gift of deceit had been taken away by her own husband.
"But what would I do other than visit Ty Lee? There's nothing interesting there except for her and her family." Azula curled next to her husband, one hand delicately tracing the muscles of his arm.
"Not that most people see." Azula's hand stopped.
She would always hate him for stealing what she had left—always hate him for his lack of even a thief's remorse.
"What are you saying?" Azula asked the man under whose arm she now rested.
"That you're lying, plain and simple. Probably something to take your brother and his family and his allies down, then take over the world." Her husband's eyes held no malice—he seemed to feel nothing, just that he was stating the obvious.
"And you would just accuse me of this?" Azula asked drawing away from the man who her brother had arranged for her to marry.
"I'm not accusing you of anything," he answered. "I just said you were lying. And you are. No accusations—just what's a lie and what's not."
How could he just lie there, so content? How could he so carelessly cast aside a lie she had been fabricating for an entire month—verifying and backing up with everyone—and just lie on silk sheets, ready to go to sleep like he didn't have a problem in the world?
"Hey—for all I know, you're going to have me killed. It's the easiest way to get out of an arranged marriage like this isn't it?" Azula's husband just looked at her, same smirk on his lips as he always had when he wasn't scowling.
And most of all she would always hate him with such a passion for his last crime. She could endure the fact that he knew when she was lying. She could endure an arranged marriage to this man. She could endure almost anything, because with a few meetings and a favor or two called in, any problem could be dealt with. But he couldn't just be dealt with.
"No, Jet. I would never have you killed. Anyone in the world but you." Azula stroked her husband's cheek . . . lovingly.
She hated him for stealing her lies. She hated him for having stories of Fire Nation atrocities that even she could not refute. She hated him for being low-born and with no consequence. But she was—or at least was born—a princess. Being greater than her adversaries was in her nature. But when someone she was bound to hate could do something as unforgiveable as make her fall in love with him—well, for that she could hate him all the more. She could always hate him for taking away the choices on how to live her life. She could hate him all the more because he didn't have the decency to do it on purpose. She could, would, and did hate her husband entirely for making her love him.
Azula curled under the sheets into the man's waiting arms.
"Jet—you know I hate you with an intensity to pale Agni's throne room, yes?"
"I hate it when you tell the truth."
A/N: I know the plot is way unoriginal, and the ship is 99 percent dead, and all the other stuff. But it started with Azula hating her husband for knowing when she lied, the husband would be Jet for crackshipping fun, and the rest came in writing. Fun, fun, fun. . .
In Christ,
ZFF