Thanks a bunch to jacoba -- who reviewed chapter 2 -- and especially to Siveler and Keitorin Asthore, who took the time to review both chapter 1 and chapter 2.

Chapter 3 – Rude Awakening

Azula sprang to her feet and "took the stage", as she always thought of it. It was important that her body language say, "arrogant bastard, but with good reason". This was a role she'd worn a million times, and it immediately made her feel better – like stepping into a favorite outfit.

A few moments later the door swung open and half-a-dozen soldiers marched into the room, fully armored but not armed. Benders then. Like all Fire Nation soldiers, they seemed well-trained and professional as they moved to surround her. An especially large one moved forward to face her. She guessed it was the same one she had talked to before.

Azula's voice was cold when she spoke. "I take it you've finally done as I instructed. I'm not accustomed to waiting." If the man had any sense, he would be struggling not to wet himself.

Apparently the man didn't have any sense, or Azula was less convincing than she thought, because he reached out and wrapped a massive hand around her throat. The move was lightning-quick and totally unexpected from such a large person. Before Azula could even register what had happened, her legs were kicked out from under her and somebody pulled a hood over her head.

Two soldiers hauled her up between them and half-carried, half-dragged her out the door and down the hallway. So much for gathering information about her surroundings. She couldn't even measure distance by counting her footsteps. She thought about roughing up her escort, just on principle, but decided that she should cooperate for the moment. She needed to see where they were taking her and assess the situation.

Soon she was thrown against a wall. After a brief hesitation, someone pulled the hood off her head. They were now in another bare, metal room, but larger than her own cell. Perhaps it was chosen because it had room for more soldiers: there were now ten of them arranged in a rough semi-circle around her. Glowing crystals on the walls gave off a leprous, green light which reminded her of Ba Sing Se.

Azula guessed that she was supposed to be intimidated. It didn't work. She'd spent her entire life staring down men who were both older and larger than she was. Zuko had shown her from an early age that someone possessing maleness, oldness, and largeness could still be a total weenie.

She turned her imperious stare on each of them in turn, letting them see that she was sizing them up -- and not impressed. Finally her eyes came to rest on the big one, who was clearly their leader. He took the cue and addressed her.

"State your name, age, and rank."

Azula wasn't in the mood to play games. "You should already know those. I don't go out of my way to help the mentally challenged."

If the big man was offended, his placid voice didn't betray it. "I've been ordered to assess your mental fitness. It is in your best interests to cooperate."

"I'll cooperate when I know what I'm cooperating with."

He reached into the pouch at his side and extracted some rolled up papers. Then he handed them to Azula. "Do you know who these people are?"

The papers contained drawings of her family. She flung them to the floor with a lazy flick of her wrist. "Yes."

"Can you identify them?"

"Yes."

He bent down and picked up one of the sheets. It was Uncle Iroh. "What's his name?"

"If you don't know it, how can you tell if I answer correctly?"

He sighed and shook his head slightly. "You should really answer the questions. You won't like what happens if you don't."

"Why don't you describe the consequences for me?" Her tone was brisk and annoyed rather than worried, though something about his last reply had set off warning bells in her head. What kind of soldier talked like that while conducting official business?

He ignored her suggestion and tried again. "What's your name?"

"Still don't remember?"

"What's your rank?"

"Higher than yours."

"Age?"

"You'll have to tell me the date first. I might have had a birthday since the last time I checked."

"Do you know why you're here?"

"Tell me where I am. Otherwise, I'll have to take that as a philosophical question."

"Stop being childish. It's unworthy of you. And irritating."

Azula privately agreed. But she wasn't giving him anything unless she learned something in return. When he asked for her name again, she interrupted.

"No. What's your name and rank, soldier?"

He paused, surprised. "You know, you're the first one that's ever asked that."

"Well?"

"That's not the issue here."

"I'll decide that. It's my duty and my right to be informed about Fire Nation resources and military personnel."

"You're not in a position to decide anything." He was starting to sound amused.

"But you are, insect?" Azula let contemptuous amusement creep into her own voice. "You? A lackey in some prison? You must have been disgraced to end up with a posting like this. Don't pretend that you would presume-"

She stopped in shock. He was taking off his mask and helmet. That was not acceptable procedure for an on-duty officer. His nose was crooked from an old break, and a jagged scar marred the right side of his face from cheek to chin. Otherwise, he would have been handsome enough – if he weren't so hard looking. Life had clearly made him callous. And dangerous. Light eyes met her own, and they didn't drop or waver.

"I do presume. And I'm here because I like my job. Now stop teasing me and do as you're told. Unless you like it rough." He winked at her. "I know how to deal with flirty little sluts."

Azula's adrenalin level went from zero to overload in the space of a moment. Before the comet, in a different lifetime, her intellect would have crushed the surge of wild, primal fury. Now, the brakes were off. She shifted a bit, and the sudden threat in her stance turned the air ugly. To a man, the soldiers visibly tensed.

The hulking, brutal giant wasn't the only dangerous person in the room.

Azula once again glared at every man in turn, letting each one know that she held him personally accountable. And each one looked away. "Is this how soldiers of the Fire Nation show their quality? By harassing their fellow warrior and countrywoman? By disrespecting a superior? By frightening a young girl with lewd and disgusting innuendo? You shame your homeland, citizens."

She had purposefully used a civilian form of address. Some of the men flinched at the insult. While the rest fidgeted nervously, the giant just stared harder. When he spoke, at least he no longer sounded amused.

"You're a fellow warrior are you? And a superior? Whatever you think your position is, think again. You're here because you're guilty of crimes against your family, against the Fire Nation, and against humanity. You're here because you're a sick, fucked-up psycho who can't control herself.

"You're a soldier? Soldiers serve. They know loyalty, sacrifice and obedience – things you know nothing about. Right now I speak with the authority of the Fire Nation, and I'm ordering you to answer my questions. Let's see if you can obey just this once. Your history says no.

"What is your name?"

A pulse was beating in Azula's forehead, and there were tears in her eyes – to her shame. What is wrong with me? There was a long hesitation before she spoke. She couldn't seem to force the words past the lump in her throat

"I-" she gagged slightly before continuing. "I have done nothing but serve the Fire Nation since the day I was born. My history is one long record of loyalty to our country, of sacrifice and obedience. But you, you pathetic, sadistic, perverted coward – you and those like you bring disgrace on our proud military tradition. I can read it in your eyes like an open book. You enlisted so that you could hurt and kill and bully. Don't lecture me and don't give me orders. I don't take advice from scum, or commands from jumped-up peasants."

Azula's voice had risen and she sounded almost hysterical. Now she was furious with herself too. Why was she letting him make her so angry? His voice, in contrast, was perfectly calm and even, with a strong undercurrent of menace. In different circumstances Azula would have admired it.

"You're criticizing me for hurting and killing and bullying? Someday we'll discuss the humor in this situation. But right now, it doesn't matter what you think of me. Your behavior is what matters, and your behavior is unacceptable. This will be your first lesson in obedience.

"Every time you disobey, you will be punished. Today you'll lose a privilege." He paused and looked her up and down. For the first time, Azula was aware of how little clothing she was wearing – just a short, coarse shift. She suddenly wished that she was covered from head to toe.

"That privilege will be clothing. Now I'm going to ask you some questions. If you don't answer them truthfully and to the best of your ability, if you say anything that doesn't answer a question I've asked you, then my men and I will strip you. And we'll see where we go from there.

"Little girl, what is your fucking name?"

"You already know my name, and you would fear it too if you weren't dumber than a goat-pig."

She dropped into her stance while she was speaking. As soon as the last word left her mouth, her fist punched the air, unleashing a blast of awesome firepower straight at the giant. Or there should have been awesome firepower. When absolutely nothing happened, Azula was so dumbfounded that she forgot her surroundings and stared mutely at her hand.

That hesitation cost her dearly. The big man took a long step forward, grabbed her wrist, and effortlessly sent her flying towards the opposite wall. Azula managed to save her skull by tucking in her head, but the impact rattled every bone in her body and squeezed the air from her lungs.

She wasn't a renowned warrior for nothing. After crashing into the unyielding metal, Azula slid down into a crumpled heap. When the first soldier reached down for his seemingly helpless victim, she suddenly reached up and slammed his head against the wall at her back.

Whatever doubt she had sown among the soldiers melted away when they saw their comrade go down. They came on in a rush. Azula got her arms under her and swept the next one off his feet with her legs. Instead of getting up right away, she somersaulted between two other soldiers and popped up behind them. She immediately hit another one with a tackle which drove him against a wall and left him winded.

When Azula thought about the fight afterwards, she decided that she just wasn't suited to brawling in close quarters, either by training or by nature. She had been taught to strike from a distance with fire. Now, she had neither fire nor space to work with. The crowded room neutralized her amazing speed and made the fray a cramped, claustrophobic affair. There were no weapons for her to steal and use against their owners. It was a contest of muscle straining against muscle, weight pushing against weight. It was a contest that Azula was destined to lose.

At first she tried to find the door, but there were too many tall bodies in the way. Whenever she tried to make headway or get above them, someone pulled her back. She nailed one man with a kick square in the chest – which might have been devastating if he hadn't been wearing a breastplate and she hadn't been barefoot. As it was, he was knocked back a few feet and she felt the pain of impact shudder up the length of her leg. Another one got an elbow to the side of the head, but she saw stars when her elbow made contact with his helmet. Yet another man got slugged across the jaw. Suddenly her knuckles were split and bloody.

None of them were going down for good; she was struggling just to keep them away from her. If she beat back the man grabbing her right arm, two or three or more grew onto her left arm. It was too hard. She was failing.

Finally the inevitable happened. She flipped someone over her shoulder, straightened up slightly…and before she could do anything about it, a gauntleted fist smashed into her gut. She reflexively doubled over. That was all the opportunity they needed: no less than three soldiers hit her with a flying tackle. She crashed into the floor out of control, rolled over several times, and found herself at the bottom of a growing pig pile.

Despite all her thrashing, bucking, biting, and clawing, she eventually ended up flat on her back with several hundred pounds of soldier holding her down. There were at least half a dozen faces glaring down at her -- most bruised and bloody, all angry. Until this moment, Azula had never really been touched by a man who wasn't part of her immediate family. Not while she was sane anyway. Her already labored breathing took on a slightly panicked edge.

The big man loomed over her. She realized that he had never joined the fight. He was watching me. Assessing me. She suddenly wondered if he had provoked her on purpose.

He jerked his head slightly at one of his men, who moved so that the giant could take his place at her side. He kneeled down and placed his hand on the inside of her thigh. "You don't deserve this, but I'm giving you one last chance. Are you going to answer my questions, or should my men tear your clothes off?"

For a second, Azula's mind went completely blank. Instinctively she tried to throw off the hard hands which restrained her, but she couldn't move so much as an inch. When her mind restarted itself, she thought of a dozen reasons why she shouldn't do what the man wanted. The most prominent ones were outrage and bravado. She made a half-hearted attempt to say something snide and defiant, but found that she couldn't force it out. She was almost hyper-ventilating.

"I warn you," he said, "if you say anything other than 'yes, Sir, I will answer your questions', then we'll stop playing nice. Well? What will it be?"

The hand on her thigh slid further up.

Azula actually shrieked. "No!... I mean yes! yes yes yes!"

"Yes what?"

"Yes…Yes, S-S-Sir. I'll answer your qu-questions." Azula's heart was trying to hammer its way out of her chest. She felt lightheaded and her eyes kept losing focus. Would he be angry if she passed out?

"What is your name?"

"Azu-…Azula." Why can't I breathe?

"Age?"

"F-Fourteen."

"Rank?"

"Princess…of…of the Fire Nation."

"Did you recognize the people in those drawings?"

"Yes. It was the royal family."

"Whose family?"

"The royal…Mine. It was my family."

"Why are you here?"

"I don't know where I am." Azula had been holding back tears ever since she woke up in her metal cage. They finally broke free and slid down her cheeks. She realized this answer might not be good enough and hastily added, "But I think the Firelord put me here."

"Who is the present Firelord?"

"I don't know. I don't know."

"What happened to your arms?"

"Wh-What?" Oh no. She didn't know what he was talking about. Please don't be angry Please don't be angry…

"You're forearms have been gouged. How did that happen?"

"I did that."

"Why?"

"In my sleep. I have bad dreams."

"About what?"

"I don't know. Don't remember," she lied. Maybe she shouldn't be lying, but she was starting to feel very distant and it seemed too difficult to explain.

He looked at her hard, but evidently decided to let it pass. Finally he took his hands off her and stood. "Get her up," he ordered.

The other soldiers also rose. Azula lay very still where she was. Finally, two of them hauled her to her feet. The big man was still watching her closely. Then he glanced at the soldiers holding her arms. "Let her go."

They promptly removed their hands and she just as promptly fell, limp as a rag-doll. There were hands on her again. Did they catch her, or were they picking her up off the floor? Azula was confused. Then someone put fingers to the pulse on her throat.

"…shock? or maybe a head injury…" She heard the words from somewhere far away, but couldn't make any sense of them. Then more words. And then she thought she was being carried somewhere.

She heard a heavy door slam shut, and that she did understand. Once again she was alone in the dark.