Week 3 prompts: You Miscalculated or Playing with Fire

Chapter 3: Playing with Fire

Just as Azula was beginning to think she'd never see the rebellious boy again, she caught him sneaking into her bedroom once again in the dead of night. So he had kept to his word after all. This wasn't over.

Although admittedly longer than the first, their scuffle probably ended in less time than it took for him to scale the wall leading to her balcony. Nevertheless, the princess found herself on top of the defeated peasant, who she had successfully managed to pin down to her desk. She sat on his lower stomach, using the weight of her upper body to hold down his wrists.

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Do you have a death wish?"

"Yes," he spat. "For the Fire Nation. Especially you filthy ashmakers."

Her eyes widened the slightest amount. Well, that was a word she hadn't heard in quite some time. "Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?"

"I would. If the war hadn't left me orphaned at the age of eight."

Was he trying to appeal to her sympathy? Boy was he barking up the wrong tree. Although, she was about the same age when Ursa was banished… what? Why would she even think of that? How could this lowly savage evoke any sort of sentimental reaction in her at all?! Besides, Ursa's disappearance was a blessing. She didn't need nor want the parent who favored her older brother and constantly blamed her for every little thing that went wrong.

Still, eight was a pretty young age to lose both of your parents. Okay, she had to get it together. "Ah, come to avenge their deaths, I see."

"The Fire Nation took everything from me," he growled. "You'll pay. You'll all pay."

For a second she thought he was going to bite at her. There was so much fire in those cold brown eyes of his. It was delicious.

"We'll see about that." Keeping his arms pinned down at his sides, she dismounted him and slid off her desk. Then she released his wrists and looked at him in a way that dared him to try and take another swing at her.

He slowly sat up and eyed her with suspicion. "Why are you doing this? Why would you let me live?"

It was clear he was trying to read her and failing. She'd always had a penchant for intuitively understanding people while remaining somewhat of an enigma herself. Oh how she lived for the mind games.

"It's simple really." She flashed him an uncharacteristically sweet smile. She could tell he was unnerved by it. "Your peasant blood means nothing to me."

He abruptly jumped off the desk and took a couple defiant steps closer to her. Looking her straight in the eye, he glared at her with such contempt, a look she had only ever before seen coming from her dear Zuzu.

"You should have killed me when you had the chance." And then he vanished out the window, her eyes watching him until the very last moment.

Wanting to keep her on edge, he only waited two nights before trying again. Though this time, he had another goal in mind. Azula may have been a master strategist, but so was he. And every time he fought her, he was learning. Her movements, her style, her technique. This wasn't about winning the fight but winning the war.

He had to remind himself of that as she pushed him up against her wall, digging her knee into his thigh and pointing two deadly fingers engulfed in blue flames at his throat. From this angle, it would be difficult to pierce her with his swords, but not impossible. If he could just move his arm a little bit…

Before he could attempt his strike, Azula surprised him by placing her finger to his lips. What the hell was she doing?! Was she coming on to him or something?! He figured it out when he heard some guards running down the hall. They must have made a sound when she pressed him to the wall. And for whatever reason, she did not want the guards discovering them.

They waited for a moment in silence until they heard the footsteps in the hall fade and disappear. Then he tried to free his arm again. Not a wise idea. Azula's flames grew stronger beneath his chin. That bitch.

"Ow!"

"Won't you give up already?" she hissed. "I didn't kill your parents, you know."

"I know. I watched them die."

"So why are you so dead set on killing me?"

"I wasn't," he explained, wondering how she'd react to the next part. "My original plan was to kill Zuko."

"Zuzu?" She laughed, weakening her flames.

Well, that wasn't the reaction he had expected, though he did find it amusing she called her brother by that ridiculous nickname.

"What did he do this time?"

"That piece of shit had me arrested by the Dai Li." He felt Azula tense up a bit. Why would the Dai Li make her feel uncomfortable? "Those scumbags brainwashed me – they turned me into their own personal weapon." He noticed a distinct change in her breathing. It was hard not to, with her chest pressed to his. "Not that you'd have any idea what that's like."

Her face grew pensive. "Actually, I do."

Something about the softness in her voice made him believe her. But was she really about to open up to him?

"You should go," she whispered.

So much for opening up.

"I need my beauty rest." She extinguished her fire altogether and backed away from him.

It seemed his words had struck a chord. A strange feeling crept over him… the desire to learn more about her was suddenly outweighing the desire to harm her. This was no good.

Nights later, following a lengthy spar, he was on her bed. Jet, the scrappy boy with eyes like chocolate, was sweating on her bed! Slightly out of breath. Warm beneath her. Her knees were to both sides of his hips. Oh Spirits. Her heart was in her throat. But she couldn't let him see that. She had to play it cool.

"Back for more, hm? Haven't you tired of this game?"

"Is that what this is to you? A game?"

She couldn't tell if she had upset him with her choice of words. Not that it mattered. "What would you call it?"

He smirked up at her, his eyes gleaming with mischief.

She felt her cheeks go hot. What was he doing to her? That cocky bastard. Enough of this. She had to change the subject. "I… I thought about what you said."

"About?"

"Zuko."

His eyes darkened.

"You know, you really shouldn't bother with that useless moron. He's not worth your frustration."

He smiled, chuckling lightly. "You're protective of him? That's cute."

"Hardly," she quickly dismissed, wondering why he'd conclude something like that. Although… he wasn't exactly wrong. Something did drive her to bring him back to the Palace with honor when she derived no direct benefit from it. Something did prevent her from ratting on him for visiting Uncle Fatso in prison. Something did compel her to warn him that Ozai was planning on killing him when they were children, not that he believed her. She didn't always lie.

"I don't know, Azula. Maybe you're just keeping me occupied so I'll leave your precious Zuzu alone."

He was teasing her! And… she didn't exactly mind. "You have it all wrong." She lowered her face to his and sharply pinched his cheeks together, forcing him to look at her. "Zuzu is mine. If anyone's going to kill him, it's going to be me."

They both broke out laughing.

He almost had her this time! She had been cornered, and yet, she still managed to weasel herself out and take him down to the cold tile floor. He was so close. But he knew by the way she'd upped her game, she was finally beginning to see him as a worthy adversary. That was satisfying on its own. Though, not nearly as satisfying as the view from below her panting body.

The princess was lying on top of him, pinning his chest down with her forearm. Her loose strands of black hair lay matted to her cheeks with sweat. Her chest heaved as she gathered her breath. Her unpainted face was so close to his. And her sleep robe had loosened a bit in the front…

He brought his eyes back up to meet her golden ones, worried that she may have caught him checking her out. But why was he even looking at her like this?! It was preposterous. She was a royal princess! A spoiled, pampered brat! Fire Nation! A dirty ashmaker! What the hell was he thinking? He loathed her. He was supposed to kill her. But… she was beautiful. Why did she have to be so beautiful?

Her playful voice brought him back to reality. "If you're ever going to win, you're going to have to change your tactics."

"I know." She was smirking at him. How he wanted to wipe that smug look clean off her face. And suddenly, he knew how. "But I'm also starting to think you like my late-night visits, Princess."

"Wh-What?!" she stammered, blushing. "Don't be ridiculous."

"Flustered are we?" He met her smirk and raised her one.

Her brow furrowed. "If anyone is enjoying this, it's you, you suicidal maniac. Either you want me to kill you or perhaps you like it when I end up on top of you."

He could tell she was shocked by her own outburst. It was endearing. "Maybe I do."

Gazing into her eyes, he propped himself up onto his elbows and leaned in closer to her, tilting his head a little to the side. He watched her eyes flicker from his to his mouth and back up again. So she did want him to kiss her. Go figure.

But still, he had been over this. She was Fire Nation. She stood for everything he was against. They were enemies. Even if her mouth beckoned him, he would not allow himself to cave in.

"You should get some rest," he breathed against her lips. "You don't want to be too tired for training, now do you?"

Just before she rolled off of him, he noticed a sobering sadness in her eyes, like her inner fire was dwindling. On the lengthy list of all the disheartening things he had seen in his life, this was definitely toward the top. He never wanted to see that look on her again. What had he done?