Title: Captive Audience
Author: Burning_Ice
Rating: M
Summary: After taking the scarred Prince up on his offer to be their captive in the Western Air Temple, Katara finds she has been assigned the most unpleasant job imaginable.
Prison Guard.
Pairing: Zutara.
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Disclaimer: I am not making any money on this, I do not claim these characters as my own, it's purely fan made. I do wish someone would give me a Zuko stripper for my birthday . . . that would be sweet!!
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Chapter 4:
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He didn't open his eyes for a long time, waiting for her to say something, but nothing happened. Except for the sound of her dropping his shirt and rocking back onto her heels, she made no noise at all. The wall behind him swayed in the wind in the dangling cell, and it made his stomach turn over. When he could stand the silence no longer, Zuko squinted open his good eye, looking up at her anxiously.
The lantern flame flickered, and the light softened her features to a warm mystery. There was a saying in the Fire Nation that everyone looked good by candlelight, and the water bender was no exception. Not even the grimace of disgust marred her beauty, in fact, Zuko found her even prettier . . . well, pretty was not the right word, he found her more alluring.
What was she staring at?
He was relieved it wasn't his pants. He didn't know how the water bender would react if she noticed, and he didn't want to scare her off his lap. Luckily, the lamp was not strong, and the light it cast did not illuminate the hills and valleys of the fabric of his pants well enough to give him away. He shifted, wishing he could adjust himself, his trousers were getting uncomfortably tight.
It was the strangest feeling. Watching him squirm was fun. It was rare that anyone was intimidated by her, and she found that she rather liked it. After being so scared of him for so long, it was only fitting to remind him just who he was dealing with.
"You know," Katara slid closer, and brushed his bangs from his face so she could gauge his expression better in the half light, "I can't say I'm surprised. With a sister and a father like yours, you must be a glutton for punishment if you're always chasing their approval." She pressed the flame closer to the bare skin of his underarm, and he leaned away in the chains. His flinching made the corners of her mouth twitch.
"I don't think I'm the only one who is enjoying themselves." Zuko snapped back triumphantly.
Katara's face fell and with a twitch of her wrist, a few drops of the oil dripped from the spout of the lamp and splattered on the Prince's bare chest. Zuko twisted in the restraints, clenching his teeth together and hissing through them in pain. By then, the oil had heated up to it's full temperature, and the pain was a lot sharper than before. Even though he was prepared this time, he still struggled. There wasn't far he could go, although he writhed, the combination of the shackles on his wrists and the water bender straddling his left leg kept him securely anchored in one place.
"Hold your tongue, you jerk!! I'm not enjoying myself!"
Zuko sagged in the restraints, unresponsive to her comment. The metal bit into his bruised skin, but the pain was minor compared to his chest, so not worth avoiding. His silence and lack of eye contact displeased her. Reaching forward, Katara seized his chin and angled his face up to look at hers.
"Look at me."
Zuko dragged his eyelids open, fixing her with a soft gaze.
"I'm not enjoying myself!" She repeated, panic rising within her syllables, "I'm not sick! Take it back! Say it!! Say I'm not sick!!"
"Does my opinion really matter that much to you?" The remark was cutting, a small victory in a hopeless battle of wills. He had heard her panic and he had fought her. The Prince, it seemed could sense her fear. She gritted her teeth, setting her jaw, determined to embody fearlessness from then on.
Katara let go of his face and tipped the lamp again. This time the liquid splashed across the flat plains of his upper abs, then dripped down, to soak into his skewed gold belt. Again he yelped and wriggled beneath her, then threw his head back and panted, taking long, loud gulps of air and letting his meditative breath control carry him through the pain. For her part, Katara was mesmerized by the jarring rise and fall of the Prince's chest, the way it expanded and defined his ribs, then contracted and defined his abs. She reached out tentatively to touch him, but yanked her hand back as she heard his voice.
"Okay, you win . . ." he replied breathlessly, head still rocked back, oblivious to the contact he had unintentionally eluded. ". . . I take it back, you're not enjoying yourself, but, I never said you were sick. You'll have to take that one back yourself."
Again, the silence stretched between them, each lost in their own thoughts. Katara held back any more invective, letting the older boy catch his breath. He rested his forehead in the crook of his right arm, his mouth open, his breath coming in short gasps, and his good cheek flushed.
"So," she finally spoke, when she noticed he had closed his lax jaw and his frown lines had smoothed, "Would you be torturing me if our roles were reversed? Was that your next step if bribing me with a necklace didn't work?"
He shook his head, but pressing the warm belly of the lamp to his arm threatened him sufficiently. Leaning away from the metal, the prince sighed, defeated.
"I was ready to do what I had to to get the information." He told her, his eyes still closed, "But my uncle wouldn't have let me harm you."
Katara humphed, and he felt her shift her weight where she straddled his leg. Zuko swallowed hard, hoping her knee didn't bump anything he didn't want her to notice. He had half a mind to bait her so she would splash him more, but didn't dare. He wanted her to trust him, and lying to provoke her would only make her hate him more. In the end, he decided that honesty was the best policy and topping from the bottom was out of the question.
"I would've kept you near until your tongue loosened, or until the Avatar came looking for you. My boat had a galley meant to contain the Avatar, I would have locked you there and set a course for Fire Nation waters."
"What would happen to me if I was your prisoner-of-war once we got to the Fire Nation?" Katara was imagining it, probably comparing notes in her head.
"I don't know, Master Bender Katara . . ." Zuko hated the interrogation, which was probably the only reason it was continuing, "Probably send you to the Boiling Rock Prison."
"You wouldn't keep me as a prisoner in the castle?!"
"Fine, I would keep you as a personal prisoner," Zuko pinched his nose, an impressive feat, that required stretching up to his hand, "A captive water bending master, a testament to my prowess in combat."
"So? You'd parade me around on special occasions?" Katara was watching one drop of oil dangle tantalizingly from the tip of the lamp. It reminded him of a certain part of his anatomy that, thankfully, had not started to drip . . . yet.
"No," Zuko bumped the leg she was sitting on, shifting her gently and drawing her attention back to him, "I wouldn't keep you shackled."
"Ha!"
"I'm serious." Zuko replied, "Anyone can keep a prisoner tied up, it takes real talent to keep an obedient, unfettered personal slave . . . or at least that's what the general opinion is among men. I wouldn't be respected as a man or warrior if I kept you bound."
"Oh, so I would be a sex slave in the Fire Nation!? Would I cook and clean for you and warm your bed?" she sneered.
He laughed.
Katara bristled.
The lamp capsized again, this time targeting his collarbone and neck. In her haste, she poured more than she wanted to, and it drizzled long and clear down his chest.
His laugh degenerated into a half howl as he bucked at the unexpected pain. It nearly unseated her, and she had to duck to the right to avoid getting banged across the nose by one of his flailing hands.
Katara glanced out across the skyscape, looking to see if any of her comrades had lit their lamps, woken by the Prince's scream. All the rooms, however, remained dark. She turned and brought the lamp down to cast better light across his bare chest. The oil was clear on his skin, but it was easy to see where it had fallen, there were red, swelling blemishes across his sinewy muscles. She followed the markings down to his yellow belt, and reached out to undo it, she wondered if anything had dripped below his shirt, and she wanted to assess the damage.
"NO!!"
Katara jerked the lamp back up, her eyes wide and panicked at the Prince's sudden hysteria.
It wasn't that he didn't want her to undo his belt, he wouldn't have minded that. It was that he didn't want her to get a well lit look at his lap. He didn't want her to see just how much he was enjoying the torture. He was scared she would stop if she encountered proof of his tastes.
"No!" He repeated when he found his voice again, it was starting to rasp from the strain, "No, Water Bending Master Katara, I have the entire castle staff at my beck and call!! You think that I would need you to cook and clean?! I have the best chefs in the kingdom at my fingertips, I have servants that have staffed the castle and seen to my family for generations!!"
Katara snorted, as though she thought her cooking prowess was far superior to any Fire Nation chef.
"Why would I let a common peasant keep my bed overnight?" Zuko continued, distracting her, "Especially one as unpredictable as you are. You would be summoned and dismissed like any other royal concubine, and you would sleep with the rest of the harem. You would be an ornament; a bauble. You would have no purpose other than being beautiful, showcasing my mastery, and pleasing me."
"The Fire Lord has a Harem?!"
"My mother disappeared years and years ago." Zuko snapped, "What did you expect? He has not remarried."
"Of course not? Why marry an equal when you could have a stable of subservients?!" The sarcasm dripped from her mouth as tangible as venom, and just as poisonous.
"Why are you angry at me?!"
"Your culture is disgusting."
"At least we don't marry off our girls at sixteen and suppress their natural abilities." Zuko winced, then cringed, waiting for another splash of the oil. He whined a soft, barely audible whimper of disappointment when it did not come.
"How did you know that?" Katara placed her oily weapon on the ground, and Zuko followed it with his gaze. The flame flickered and then grew still, and he leaned a bit towards it.
"Zuko!" she repeated, "Pay attention!"
"I . . . what?"
"The Water Benders, how did you know?"
"I snuck into the Northern Water Tribe, you know." He replied, "I saw the genders of the warriors and benders. It was the Tribe's loss, they would have had no problem liquidating the Fire Nation forces if they had let their women fight for their home as well."
The corner of Katara's mouth turned up in the whisper of a smile, he could see his answer pleased her. Apparently she had a sore spot over the gender battle up north as well. After fighting so hard for her approval, taking her blows, her yelling, her games, and finally her torture, he felt a swell of pride at the acknowledgement. Aside from his uncle, approval was so rare in his family that he knew for a fact that the sudden high wouldn't last, that soon, he would crave more from her.
"Are you hungry?"
The unexpected hospitality caught him off guard.
"I . . . umm . . ."
"Well, are you or aren't you?" she demanded.
"Yes?" Zuko cringed, remembering the last meal that she had fed him, but didn't dare refuse her. Anyways, although his didn't feel like face planting into a bowl of rice, the thrashing had worked up an appetite.
She retrieved the lamp, dismounted, and then walked across the cell. Without her straddling him, his leg felt unpleasantly cold, and he hoped she would sit astride him when she returned.
"Oh, of all things!" he heard her mutter, then she turned to him, "Zuko, do you have a pair of chopsticks in your things?"
Zuko did, in fact, have a pair. They were hand carved and inlaid with jasper, and matched his favorite bowl and tea pot. It was one of the few things he had taken, as they were a necessity, and although they were nice, they were by no means priceless family antiques.
"No." he replied, as sweetly as possible.
"Ugh."
To his short lived disappointment, she sat between his legs, a covered bowl in her lap. It held enough rice and meat for both of them, she must have been planning to feed him all along, or at least to be prepared if he woke up hungry. Of course, she was the team's matron, and probably succumbed to the paradox of wanting to make sure he was both fed and cared for, but also restrained and uncomfortable.
After splashing off her hands with a small water snake, she uncapped the lid, selected a bit of meat, and popped it into her mouth.
"It's cold." She informed him, before picking up another bit of meat and reaching up, pressing it to his lips, ". . . but it's food. Open your mouth."
Zuko glanced around the room before, slightly stunned, opening his mouth. He didn't know why she had decided to feed him this time, maybe because she was warming up to him, maybe because they were sharing a bowl. Secretly, he hoped it was because she was beginning to trust him more, and if he behaved himself, she would untie him.
Katara was right, the food was cold, and slightly congealed. It was Komodo chicken, Sokka must have caught one during the hunt, and he felt a sudden pang for his uncle, it had always been one of Iroh's favorite dishes.
"If you unhook me, I can heat it for you." He offered.
"I'll risk it cold."
This time she selected one of the wild carrots and fed it to him, her fingers brushing across his lower lip. They were warm and sticky from the food, but nevertheless, he had to suppress a shiver that ran the length of his spine from somewhere behind his ears to his shaky knees. She wasn't trying to be sexy, she wasn't trying to seduce him, but the act was so motherly that it triggered something deep inside him, some unnamed, suppressed psychological need.
This time, instead of swallowing straight away, he exhaled a small, controlled burst of flame into his mouth to warm the vegetable up. The sparks died as soon as they consumed the limited oxygen in his closed mouth, but left the outside of the food pleasantly warm.
"What did you just do?" Katara was awkwardly trying to pick up a clump of rice, "You fire bent, I saw the sparks."
Swallowing his mouthful, Zuko responded.
"I was just experimenting."
"Can you heat the whole thing with your mouth?"
"That clay bowl won't hold up against a fire blast." he replied. It would heat, then shatter, and they would both be hungry and annoyed for the rest of the night. "If you put something in my mouth, I can warm it for you." He offered tentatively, doubting she would go for it.
"Eat something that's been in your mouth?!" Katara pretended to gag, "It's just so . . . tempting, but I'll tough it out, feel free to keep experimenting though." To emphasize she picked up a carrot slice and chewed on it delicately.
"Suit yourself." He replied before opening his mouth again to accept a bamboo shoot. With another small shower of sparks, he chewed slowly and swallowed, watching the bender picking through the food, selecting the morsel she wanted, then raising it to her lips. She obviously enjoyed the ocean kumquats the best, as she picked out most of them and ate them first. Zuko didn't mind, they always tasted odd to him, and as a child, he would avoid them whenever humanly possible.
The silence hung heavily between them, and thickened when she ran out of meat and vegetables and began picking up the clumps of sticky rice. Eating the staple food by hand was a lot more difficult than it looked. Katara was trying not to make a mess, it was almost adorable. She had to tilt her head all the way back and slip her fingers into her mouth almost to the second knuckle to get all the grains off them.
Afterwards, she hesitated, looking from the bowl, to him, then back to the rice again. He thought for a minute that she was going to put it away and return to her morass of anger and hate, but instead, she repeated herself.
"Are you sure that you don't have chopsticks? It seems like only an idiot would leave home without them."
Zuko shrugged, evading the question by focusing on the comment.
"I thought we would be eating a lot of ash bananas."
With a long, annoyed sigh, Katara primly picked up a cluster of rice and moved to feed him. Unlike before where she had simply touched the diced food to his lips, this time she had to press her fingers fully into his mouth to accomplish the feeding. It was surprising to say the least, he wouldn't have thought she would let her fingers so close to his teeth, not after their previous sessions together, but he wasn't about to complain.
For the first time, he tasted her skin, and he sucked on her fingers gently, cleaning them off. He heard her intake of breath, and thought he saw a slight blush climb her neck and dust her cheeks, it was hard to tell past her skin tone in the half light. Almost angrily, she yanked her fingers away and wiped them on the hip of her robe before scooping up another mouthful for herself.
When she went to feed him again, Zuko noticed the slight grimace, and the way she pressed her lips together. Her expression said one thing, and her manner another, because when his lips closed around her hand, he saw her inhale sharply, and lean several inches closer. In fact, her body language outright betrayed her.
Is she . . . enjoying this? He knew she seemed to like hitting him or scolding him, but he had never really considered the fact that she could just want him. All the men in his family were handsome, he would have been too had his face not been disfigured, and from what he observed, the only boy she had spent much time around growing up was her brother.
Inwardly, he rallied himself.
The next time she fed him, he ran his tongue along the pads of her digits, slipping it between them in a feigned effort to eat. Her fingers must be sensitive if she gasped from the soft caress and little bit of suction.
Katara hesitated, unsure of what the Prince was doing. His tongue was surreal, unlike any other sensation she had ever felt, and she looked around, unsure of how to respond. She was almost positive that he was baiting her, but she didn't know how it was supposed to carry into a fight, and she didn't want to seem like an inexperienced child again by accusing him of the wrong thing.
Katara, Misogynist . . . really?! She cursed herself mentally.
There was definitely no rice in his mouth now, she realized, snapping out of her reverie, and he was definitely still nursing her fingers. She felt his teeth brush her for an instant now and again, but inexplicably, she was confident that he wouldn't bite. Truth be told, suddenly the idea of getting bitten was a lot more tantalizing than it would have seemed hours earlier. His tongue was warm, hot really, both literally and figuratively, and a lot stronger than she would have thought it to be. Instinctively, she felt the compulsion to lean forward and offer it a more sensitive area, but fought it.
She felt the goose bumps rise on her arms, even though she wasn't cold, and her breathing became shallow, although she wasn't winded. The sensation of being both hot and cold, giddy and clear, was not something entirely unfamiliar. She remembered feeling the same way when Jet had wrapped his arm around her and carried her up to the treetops. The pressure on her waist, his masculine scent, the sudden twisting of her abdomen, the intoxication of being so close to someone so . . . handsome . . .
Katara heard a loud, throaty moan, and it shocked her back to her senses when she figured out it had echoed from her own throat. The fire bender prostrate in front of her even stopped mid-caress, tongue still intertwined with her index finger and thumb, to stare up at her, wide eyed with surprise.
With a sinking feeling suspiciously close to reluctance, Katara yanked her hand from his warm, sensual mouth.
"You . . . You burnt me!!"
The Prince's expression of shock turned to one of dumb disbelief.
"You're . . . insane."
Katara was too busy trying to save face to listen.
"I thought you were a Master Fire Bender!!" She hissed, her voice, however, was frantic, rather than angry, ". . . and . . . you . . . umm, you should be more careful!!"
"I was being very careful."
"I . . . you . . ." Katara was at a loss, and Zuko bit back a small, triumphant smile, "You think it's funny?!"
"Of course not," Zuko did his best to look abashed, even though he knew he was entirely blameless, "I'm sorry, Water Bending Master Katara, next time I will not burn you. I don't know how I let it happen this time."
"Next time?" Katara weighed this in her head, and then spoke a little falteringly, "I mean, if you really can't help but . . . you know . . . burn me, umm, I'll let it slide-" her expression became fierce as she regained her composure, "-For now."
The Prince nodded his head, and then looked away. He had thought it would make her angry that he dared come on to her in such a fashion. Instead it seemed to have the opposite effect. The way she had delicately parted her lips, her top teeth pressing lightly into her bottom lip, and half closed her eyes in bliss had been just about the furthest he could have gotten.
"Aren't you going to heal yourself?"
"Hmm?"
"Your fingers." He clarified innocently, "They must sting, you should at least put some ice on them if it's not worth the energy to heal them with your bending."
"Oh . . . right." Katara bent another small snake of water from her skin and then coated her fingers with it, and froze it into ice claws. They were far blunter than her usual variety, but then again, she was basically just using them as elaborate finger sleeve excuses.
He watched her bend, and felt a secret thrill at the movements. He had always liked watching the water benders move, and the fact that she was one of the best in the world was equally thrilling. He adored the idea that he could fight with everything he had, and she would easily be able to hold him off.
Zuko sighed and closed his eyes, his stomach was full, and his eyelids were getting heavy. Although she had slept until dinner time, he had been up since dawn, and fatigue was weighing heavily on him. He didn't think she would mind if he dosed off, she would probably want to get back to sulking on the far wall.
"Ah!"
Suddenly, a freezing pressure slid down his still stinging chest. His eyes flew open in shock, and he saw her pressing her ice coated fingers against the red, oiled welts that dusted his chiseled anatomy.
"What are you doing?!"
Katara looked up, her right eyebrow raised a bit higher than her left.
"Well, like you said, these must sting." A slightly wicked expression graced her features. The look would have been more appropriate on Toph, but was still sufficiently mischievous on the water bender.
"That's really cold!!" he complained, sleep forgotten, and he tried to curl away from the ice.
"Tough it out, I thought you were a warrior!!"
Zuko muttered something but bit his lip as she lowered her icy fingertips for a second time. He gasped as the ice was pressed to his chest again, this time over the welts across his abs. Katara, bent another snake out of her skin and froze it, then applied it to his upper arm, encasing it with her element. Every time a fresh layer of water was applied to him, Zuko cringed. She was enjoying herself far too much at the sight of his discomfort.
"Stop fidgeting!!" Katara grabbed one of his flailing knees and forced it back down.
"Stop yelling at me!!"
"Stop yelling back!!"
Zuko stilled and then glared up at her, a look she returned whole heartedly.
". . . and stop scowling at me!!"
"Make me!!" Zuko bit back.
After a long minute, Katara reached down deliberately and grabbed the tie of his disheveled shirt. Pulling it out from around his waist, she wrapped it around his head, covering his eyes.
"Wait! What are you doing?!"
Zuko grabbed for the makeshift blindfold, trying to tug it back off.
"Stay still." He heard her command, "You're earning my trust, remember?"
With a long, deep inhale, he let go of the fabric. Slowly, he let the breath out through his nose in a grunt of acquiescence. The sudden darkness made everything around him much more acute. Suddenly, he could feel every wiggle of the windswept stone underneath him, hear every clink of the chain. He could even smell her hair, and the exotic seaweed lotion that she used on her skin.
He tensed, suddenly unsure.
Katara, however felt suddenly liberated. The feeling was akin to wearing her fancy clothes for hours on end at a stuffy party and finally being able to kick them off and relax. Sitting back on her ankles, she looked freely at the Prince, who was turning his head this way and that, stressing about what was going to happen next.
She was tempted to pick up the oil lamp and torture him with the heated liquid some more, but she knew that it was really too much of a waste of oil. She didn't want to run out halfway through the night if the moon stayed shrouded. Instead she pulled his shirt the rest of the way open, ignoring the soft, suspiciously sexual whimper that came from the Prince, and sliding it part of the way up his arms. Pretending to fiddle with the lamp, Katara assessed the damage . . . and admired the view. It was a rare opportunity, to be able to look at him for as long as she liked without him knowing. In fact . . . the full impact hit her full on . . . he couldn't see her. He couldn't stop her.
He wouldn't stop her.
She could do anything she wanted . . .
"Katara?"
He definitely sounded nervous.
"Ok, you made your point, I won't glare back . . ."
She bent what she estimated was a liter of her water from her bag and activated it so it shone like the moon with healing light.
"Master Water Bender Katara? Can you hear me? Umm . . . You can take off the blindfold now," Zuko was becoming agitated with the lack of response. In the silvery light, she could see the hairs on his arms and chest standing up.
Abruptly, she froze the water and lowered it onto his chest.
Of all the reactions she was expecting, the one she got was probably one of the furthest from her ballpark. Anger, yelling, more complaining, maybe a swear, that was the Zuko she knew. Instead of any of those things, he collapsed down to the floor, his arms still strung up over his head like some sort of macabre puppet. He yelped, and sparks flew from his fingertips, showering them both so Katara instinctively ducked and covered her hair. Most startling of all, in a knee jerk reaction, he wrapped his legs around her waist, his knees clamping down on her in a ditch effort to stop the temperature tormenting.
So close.
Too close.
Katara grabbed for his thighs, attempting to pry them off of her. She had forgotten about her still iced fingers, and was unprepared for the sudden stream of unintelligible curses that lit the air as she froze through the thin silk pants and chilled the sensitive flesh of his inner thigh. She could, however, discern her name, over and over again, and she wondered for what felt like a long instant what was provoking such an outburst until she looked down at her ice encased fingers.
Or more accurately, what exactly her ice encased hands were pressing up against. At first, it did not compute.
"Zuko, are you carrying a weapon?! I c-" Katara blushed and emitted a half strangled squeak before wrenching herself forcefully from the leglock and retreating to press against the far stone wall.
Where it was safe.
Her cheeks were burning hotter than they would have if the Prince had bent them full of fire. She pressed her face into the chilly stones of the wall, and tried to clear her mind; tried to forget.
Idiot!! Her mind screamed, though she wasn't sure if it was directed at the Prince or inward.
"Katara?" Zuko was craning his head around the room, trying to listen for her. She was thankful he couldn't detect body heat the way Toph could vibrations. "Katara, Where are you?"
She didn't answer, but did sink slowly to the floor, watching him orient on the sound of the fabric of her shirt scraping across the stones as she descended. He turned his head to her, and she noticed that his knees were raised and pressed together, and he was blushing as well.
"Look . . ." he was bargaining, "Can I take off the blindfold?"
Katara shook her head, humiliated, then remembered that he could not see her. She hummed a short negative, and watched him slump in the cuffs.
"Look, I'm sorry." He was apologizing, "I can't control it . . . It was the oils, It just-"
"Shut up!" Katara balled her fingers into fists and pressed the heels of her hands into her temples, "Just don't say anything!!"
Zuko clamped his jaw shut mid excuse, trying to think of unsexy things to cool his desires. Surprisingly, ice to his manhood had not doused them, it had, in fact, after he recovered, sharpened them.
Katara took a deep breath and stood, gathering the shattered bits of her self confidence and reassembling them. Slowly and deliberately, she walked back over to him, making sure her footsteps landed noisily on the floor. She saw him flinch every time her foot fell, it was barely noticeable, he was trying to hide it, and she suppressed the desire to kick him in the shin while he was vulnerable but expecting it.
"You're my prisoner." She reminded him, conveniently forgetting the fact that technically, he was Aang's prisoner, "and I can touch you wherever I want."
She saw his hands wrap around the chains of his cuffs and squeeze them. He wanted to hold on to something, and he clutched the metal like a child would a security blanket. Katara sneered, the detestable excuse for a noble was probably fantasizing about a million different things that she was about to do to him.
". . . and if I do," Katara continued, but faltered, ". . . If I do, I will expect you to behave much more tactfully. Otherwise . . . otherwise I'll make you sorry."
Zuko nodded, the water bender hardly held a candle to his sister in the eloquence department, but there was no doubt in his mind that she would make good on her threats.
"Now." Katara bent the water she had been using from the ground and refroze it around her fingers, then knelt down next to him and placed her iced over hand onto his knee, "Do you understand?"
Zuko nodded, part of the belt sliding down his nose, but still covering his eyes.
"I said, do you understand?!" Katara slid her hand down several inches, her ice capped fingers brushing along his inner thigh, stopping several inches closer to his hip.
"Mmm!! You told me not to talk!" he protested.
"I asked you a question, I expect an answer!" Again her fridged hand moved, coming to rest at the midpoint, halfway along his leg.
"Yes, of course I understand you!!!" He was shouting by now, his knuckles white where they gripped the chains.
Another few inches, and Katara's fingers were three fourths of the way down his leg, the ice by then was melting and dripping, soaking through his pants and leaving dark circles in the fabric.
"Yes! YES!! Master Water Bender, Princess of the Southern Water Tribe, Warden, and slave driver Katara!! I understand and apologize for not voicing it sooner when you commanded me to!!" Zuko's voice was raised in desperation, and Katara released him, taken aback by the volume increase.
"Good." She muttered, pleased with the victory and the Prince's sudden show of submission and assent. Her fingers were turning numb, so she bent the water to her other hand and froze it again, then shifted closer and leaned over him, putting her palm flat on the ground on his other side for balance.
"So, if I want to touch your face . . ." she let the sentence hang, and then pressed her fingers to his jawbone, trailing them slowly across his skin so the cold sunk in.
"I comply." It was a mumble, as though he was afraid to move his jaw.
"And, if I want to touch your neck . . ." flipping her hand so that her iced over nails pressed against his flesh, she trailed them down his neck, stopping only to curiously caress his Adam's apple as he swallowed hard.
"I comply." He repeated, tilting his head back to give her better access to any skin she wanted. His mouth suddenly felt dry.
"If I want to touch your chest . . ." Katara splayed her fingers out and pressed her palm flat to his peck. It was still dotted with welts, but they were fading. She slipped her hand down, stroking him as though he was a buffalo deer.
"I comply." He torqued away from her, stretching his left side open and letting her torturous ice play to roam down his side, over each rib, and then down across his navel. He gasped as the freezing sensations circled his belly button, and his abs contracted on their own accord.
"If I want to touch . . ." Katara trailed off, her singers trailing back upwards. She could not deny the building heat in her abdomen, and the sudden desire to get closer to him, to hear him beg.
"I com-mmMM!!" Zuko suddenly arched up into her right hand as the ice slid over his bare nipple. She could hear the soles of his boots scraping across the floor as he drew his knees up. Unfortunately, Katara refused to budge, soaking in the sounds the prince made. "IcomplyIcomplyIcomply-" He was repeating it over and over again, like a mantra. She wasn't sure if it was even directed at her anymore. The scarred Prince was shaking his head no back and forth and back and forth, and yet the tone of his voice and words uttered begged for more.
The movement of his mouth was hypnotic. Katara was drawn to it like the night moths were to her oil flame. Leaning forward to get a better view, she trailed her fingers up, back up his chest, back up the sinews of his neck, then across his jaw as it moved in the familiar chant. The rhythm of the litany, the pain of the oil and ice, and the sensory deprivation had worked him into a sort of trance.
"If I want to . . ." her fingers moved traitorously towards his lips, then ran over their soft flesh, and her own parted, at the thought. She could kiss him if he wanted to, it wouldn't take much, he wouldn't protest, in fact, his body very clearly stated he wanted it, and she wouldn't have to worry about any further advances because he was tied.
He had stilled, every muscle in his body was tense, his breath held. The restatement of his assent choked back in his throat.
He was waiting for what she was going to do next.
"Katara?"
It was her name. He had said her name. His lips and breath had brushed hotly over her bare skin, and she realized the last of the ice barrier she had had melted. It was just her fingers, and his mouth.
Katara took a deep breath, it had stopped being about hurting him long ago. It had become something different, something that she didn't entirely understand.
She ran her thumb over his bottom lip. Felt the sharp intake of breath. Her own jaw opened a centimeter, and her mouth watered with a hunger unrelated to any food.
She could do it.
She could.
Moving her hand to one side, she leaned closer she could feel his breath on her face, she could pick out the stubble that dotted his cheeks. He smelt like smoke and spices, things that whispered promises to carnally scorch your mouth and set your skin aflame.
It would be for real this time, not to see if he was faking sleep. Not to see if he would be repulsed by a Water Tribe peasant touching him. Not to see if he thought she would defile him.
Reaching up her free hand to cup his face, she took a deep breath, rallying her confidence.
"Spirits Katara!!" Zuko suddenly threw his head back violently, narrowly missing accidentally head butting her, "You're an excruciating tease!! Hurt me, scratch me!! please!! PLEASE!! Don't just sit there, PLEASE!!! I'm begging you! Do you want me to beg? I'll beg for it, hit me, please!!"
She frowned, suddenly very very angry at the bender. Snatching the makeshift blindfold, she yanked it from his head and stood up, fingers clenched in anger.
Gold eyes looked up at her, confused and aroused. He obviously had no idea what she had been doing, and no idea why she had stopped. Katara didn't care. Grabbing the lamp she stomped off in a rage, taking refuge in one of the neighboring cells.
He called for her for the better part of an hour. Asking her to come back, apologizing for the outburst, even offering to make up for it in several creative ways. He offered to take her diner shift, he offered to shine her boots and armor, he offered to heat her water for a bath, and he offered to keep Toph off her back. He even offered to run through the Western Air Temple naked.
Katara put her hands over her ears, and when she finally pulled them away, the only thing she heard was the wind whipping through the inverted buildings.
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Whooo!! Zutara bondage sexyness!!! I have so much fun with this fic!!!
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Yea, I know I know . . . I'll go Write ANTCTW now . . . . ::sigh::
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Special thanks to Sumhope!! We bantered a bunch of ideas back and forth for this, especially on how to make it kinky without making it contrived. Anyway, you should definitely go check out Sumhope's fanfic, it's called Shell Shock
http : / / www dot fanfiction dot net / s / 4504055 / 1 / Shell _ Shock
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Leave me love, I love reviews, and the more loved I feel, the more I want to spread the love by writing explicit kinky Zutara love scenes.
So basically, reviewing my stories is a win-win.
