A/N:
AU prompt challenges from Tumblr - Lord of the Rings, The Fugitive, The Hunt for Red October, The Whole Nine Yards, respectively. All requested by Focusas.
]|||[
I
As the armorers that tended to her tighten the straps to her gauntlets and greaves she locked her eyes on him.
"There was a saying I learned long ago, those without swords can still die upon them. I fear neither death nor pain."
With one last tug the men stepped away to see to their other duties, one handing her a sword, which she hastily girt around her waist. Tightening the last strap on his gauntlet Sokka watched her, fascinated and puzzled.
His words were measured, "What do you fear, Azula?"
She paused, contemplating her life, from the day she first gripped a sword to this very moment, armed for war and caressed by steel.
"A cage," she said, "To live behind bars. To see the seasons pass and feel my bones wither beneath my skin, until all chance of valor is gone beyond recall or desire."
Sokka lifted his head. There was truth in her eyes, in her words. Even he didn't want to fade away into history.
"You're a warrior," he said, "If there is anything I've learned, your fate is what you make it. If valor on the battlefield is what you want, then take it. Its yours."
Her back straightened and with resurgent pride she made his way to him, clasping his shoulder, "I will."
]|||[
II
Exasperated, Azula limped her way across the sand toward her captor, the desert sun beating down over her head. It burned her exposed pale skin and the metal cuffs dug into her wrists with every painful step she made across the sand.
"What the hell are you doing now, Sokka?" she demanded.
Hunched over the mangled remains of his latest flying contraption he looked up at her through narrowed eyes, his faced caked in layers of dust and oil.
"I'm thinking how to get us out of this desert,what does it look like I'm doing?" he said.
"Well, think me up a canteen filled with fresh water while you're at it, you drooling ignoramus, I'm thirsty."
He rolled his eyes. Perhaps the bounty on her head wasn't worth it after all.
]|||[
III
Her words were few yet measured, slow, so that he could understand her, almost challenging him to speak, booming through the sparse command deck.
"Ты говоришь по-русски."
You speak Russian.
A small laugh escaped him, a question that was more a statement, and his head rose to meet her steady gaze, pondering his next words.
"… Маленький. Целесообразно изучать пути своего противника. Вы не думаете?"
A little. It is wise to study the ways of one's adversary. Don't you think?
She quirked an eyebrow and her lips curled into an amused, almost interested smile.
"It is."
]|||[
IV
She sniffed the air between them, her enchanting eyes momentarily flinching at the putrid smell, her lips recoiling from his.
"Have you… vomited recently?"
He swallowed his pride and any chance of an impression.
"…A minute ago, I, uh, I was just gonna go clean my teeth and rinse out my mouth."
A long, tense pause, her eyes and hand raking over the skin behind his un-buttoned tunic, until she finally gave a decisive shrug.
"I'll wait."
A/N:
A small collection of the shorter prompts. The cyrillic is probably off and is just a rough translation of what is really being said, in hindsight probably unnecessary.
Thank you for reading and hope you enjoyed! See you in the next installment.
