A/N: Thank you to my two new storyfollowers: belnonm and Beeeecks. I really appreciate it so much.

Disclaimer: It is always a happy day when it's a Zutara Day, but I can't claim I started that pairing or have anything associated with Avatar the Last Airbender.


Lu Ten drags Zuko out through the Royal Infirmary doors. White marble curves around the hallway ceiling, pink veins creep in long-reaching tendrils. Lu Ten and Zuko's footsteps echo against the walls and bounce ahead toward the rotunda, which leads to the royal private quarters. His cousin is like pulling a stubborn tiger viper, all ferocious bite ready to strike.

Lu Ten drops his grip on his cousin. "Zuko! you must leave her!" He blocks Zuko's escape.

Zuko feels a strange sickness overcome him. He swallows the feeling of dread while attempting to move past Lu Ten. "Get out of my way."

As Lu Ten tries to get his cousin to see reason, he moves forward, guiding Zuko back towards the rotunda and away from the Royal Infirmary. "Zuko, you aren't thinking clearly."

Zuko hadn't been able to protect Katara. His mission has been a series of failed attempts, and no matter how much he tries to gain his father's favor, Ozai despises his son. Zuko transfers his anger at being ineffectual onto Lu Ten. "Are you seriously preventing me from going to her."

Lu Ten holds his ground and states firmly, "Yes, I am. I tell you, what you are doing is madness."

Hurt stokes Zuko's anger. The pain of his failures kindling his underlying fears. "Fine, you leave me no choice." Zuko's jacket pulls tightly as his arm rears back, fist clenched as he makes a forward jab toward Lu Ten's jaw.

Lu Ten side steps before the punch can land. He knows Zuko was only striking out in anger; his jab lacked the true intention of force and control. Yet, there is hurt within Lu Ten's question. "Is hitting me going to make you feel better?"

"Yes, it will!" Zuko begins to pull back his fist, but then realizes he is trying to strike the person that has always been there for him, who, in fact, isn't moving but awaiting the blow. Zuko's scar is pounding with the reality that all his mistakes are due to a fundamental lacking within himself. He says bitterly. "No, it won't." The intensity of pain flushing through his extremities turns to ash, leaving only the remnants of shame. He avoids his cousin's gaze, staring at the floor pattern of marble squares. He drops his hand from his eye, attempting to articulate one of his fears. "Lu Ten, I don't trust those healers."

Lu Ten stays rooted, not wanting to trigger Zuko again. Searching for something to give Zuko comfort, Lu Ten settles upon the facts. "The healers are skilled in their job, trust them."

Zuko spits, "Trust them!" Zuko finally reaches up to his eye, cradling it. "No, I don't think so." His whole being informing him to be distrustful, always be watchful for those that will eventually betray you.

Lu Ten bites back. "You may not believe it, but yes, trust them," He pauses in frustration, "or trust me, then." Lu Ten can't understand why Zuko won't relinquish his desperation to belong to people who don't want him. Lu Ten is stymied by a fate which made Zuko his cousin and not his true brother. No matter what Lu Ten's family demonstrates in action and words, the sentiments can't penetrate Zuko's barriers. Zuko will always keep a part of himself separate. Lu Ten sighs and tentatively places a hand on Zuko's slumped shoulders. "You did a fine thing, a gallant thing for Lady Katara. You probably saved her life."

"For now," Zuko shrugs; his scar begins to hurt a little less. He is familiar that living in the palace produces many dangers. He has witnessed the effects first hand.

Lu Ten promises. "I will send word to Dr. Hama that Lady Katara's well being should be reported to Father and to you, too." He hopes in solidifying his familial bonds and break past Zuko's constructs, including those associated with the healers. "Brother, Dr. Hama and her staff are professionals, no matter what you may feel. They have treated and healed many people as you well know."

Zuko's face shutters. He backs up and then nods curtly. "Yes, thank you... cousin." He stumbles over the word wanting to say brother himself but can't bring himself to utter it.

Lu Ten guides his cousin away from the topic of the healers to something more pressing. It is even more important to be cautious with Zuko being so jittery and uneasy. "There are other things that we need to be wary about right now."

Zuko fears those things could be closely related to him. He hesitates, afraid to get confirmation upon his fears. "Father?"

"Yes, among others." Lu Ten looks through the opening that leads to a rotunda of several stories. The many alcoves lead into darkened pathways, which can carefully conceal those whetting their political gain appetites with royal morsels. "This isn't the place to discuss it." Lu Ten steps closer to his cousin. "I need to go attend to something, but I will meet you in Father's private garden."

Zuko bows and clicks his heels in agreement. As Lu Ten turns, Zuko calls out in his low timbres to his cousin. It comes out with a wisp of regret and mournful hope that Lu Ten doesn't hate him. "I hope you can forgive me for my grievous transgression against you."

Lu Ten stops but doesn't turn around, knowing Zuko's guilt over his rash response will be etched in shame. "Zuko…" Lu Ten resists expressing his feelings of brotherhood or pleading with his cousin that Zuko is, in fact, the very opposite of being alone but has people who care about him. Those sentiments would only make Zuko uncomfortable and cause him to further withdraw. Lu Ten chooses a jocular attitude when finally facing his cousin. "When you actually hit me, maybe we'll worry about you apologizing. Truth is, I'm too fast for you...even faster than Azula."

Zuko's mouth lifts up slightly with amusement. Lu Ten isn't issuing boastful hyperbole. His agility with firebending moves and fighting are renown. Lu Ten had the best instructor, Iroh, The Dragon of the West. Zuko's fear that he might have angered his cousin and fallen from favor dissipates. Relief makes all his previous tension vanish, including the throbbing in his eye.

Lu Ten salutes farewell, while Zuko makes another bow. Both exit in different directions. Zuko heads to the rotunda that has several levels worth of curved openings, leading to the private residences of the palace. The darkened alcoves surrounding the circular area seem rife with potential spies, waiting to seize upon vital information. Zuko shakes his head to clear it of imagined intrigue. There is enough blatant subterfuge to worry about rather than what he cannot see.

A ring of tapestries drapes around the circular tiers. The banners highlight aspects of the fire nation history, specifically the first Fire Lord seizing control and uniting the fire nation. The rich threads weave the tale of Zarene who united rule under one emperor.

Zuko stares up at a tapestry as he passes under the banner. The proud stance of the Fire Lord, stitched with gold and red is noble and a righteous contrast to the one who occupies the throne now. The banner moves as Zuko passes underneath it. He strides determinedly towards his Uncle's sanctuary.

The Crown Prince's wing is designated for his family and invited guests. The extensive grounds has its own private garden, designed personally by Iroh. The tangential section could be accessed via the rotunda or through an opposite external gate, both having security portals.

Zuko approaches a circular door in rich mahogany wood with an ivory inlay of a white lotus. Zuko places his right palm on the center of the pictorial. He flushes chi into his palm and the flower heats. The lotus flashes white. Gears immediately grind and slowly the door wheels open.

As the portal widens, a tranquil setting unfolds, growing in form and sensation. The soothing smell of jasmine perfumes the air, relaxing Zuko. His mind clears of stressful thoughts and greets the scene of a dry stream bed with plants that are placed to await visual contemplation. A footbridge in the shape of a crimson dragon leads over the dry stream. Zuko steps on the white stone step and then onto the wooden slats of the bridge. A cluster of trees with deep red leaves are planted on the far side of the bridge. The bridge curves down to allow pedestrians to exit, and then the dragon abruptly turns, its wooden head facing the trees. The fiery leaves create an illusion of flames bursting from the dragon bridge's mouth.

A short distance from the bridge is a private teahouse, constructed in a teak wood siding. The architect, Iroh, insisted that it be built with the traditional schema of sliding rice paper doors and a simple interior footprint. Iroh attends to all the tea brewing and pouring for himself and his privileged guests.

Zuko moves slowly over the bridge rising from the dragon's tail up to its back, the apex of the bridge. With Zuko's previous heightened tension gone, he feels exhausted. Resting against the red railing, he looks out across the dry stream bed. Pebbles of varying greys, navy, and black create an illusion of rippling water. Metal koi rest in a swimming motion near larger rocks. Muted shaded pebbles form circle rings around the round or craggy rocks.

Zuko glances to the sky. He can feel the fire in his blood tempering. The yellow light is melding into the orange of eventide Where did the whole day go? The morning had been full of such promise. Zuko had been so sure he wanted to attend the noble meeting. Yet, when he had stood outside the door, he had felt a sick dread surge through him. He had been about to turn away when Azula smugly approached. She said his name with such a mocking droll that it provided the needed impetus to push Zuko past his apprehension to attend the meeting.

"Zuko, how are you?" Dulcet tones disrupt Zuko's musings, jolting him from his reverie.

Zuko stands and bows. "Narumi, I didn't hear your approach." He straightens. "It is good to see you."

Narumi's cream-colored arm reaches out for Zuko's hand. She clasps it, giving him a reassuring squeeze. Her simple gesture feels like the reeds of the willow brushing against his palm. Letting go of Zuko's hand, Narumi's arm falls against her promenade dress of light blue. "You were quite thoughtful. I hope you had only pleasant ruminations." She casually indicates to the serene surroundings, "especially in this place." She smiles a gentle grin. "I believe, Iroh says worrisome thoughts will turn his tea bitter."

Zuko shakes his head good-humouredly over his uncle's obsession with tea. "Then I fear Uncle will have to endure some bracing tea for I was thinking of this morning's meeting." Zuko could be honest in this space with Narumi. It didn't feel like his words would be twisted or used against him. "I'm worried about seeing father again, especially after I voted against his faction."

Narumi was quiet. Lu Ten had told her about the close call during the noble vote. The fact that Ozai had established such a meeting was abhorrent. "Zuko, you did the right and honorable thing."

"Narumi, I want to be on the same side as father, and yet, we are always opponents." The pain of his words makes his scar throb. His life is resigned to be on the fringe. His mother loves him and Iroh's family has graciously embraced him, but he cannot quiet his soul's unrest.

Narumi's green eyes fill with sympathy. "Dear Zuko, if doing the right thing was easy than our world would not be in the state that it is."

Narumi's words wrapped Zuko in such peace. She has the ability to make everything relaxing. Her whole demeanor floats in a beautiful haze of comfort, even Azula tends to behave around Narumi. She is the breath and the cleansing rain. Zuko feels that way about his mother, loving gestures exude from her being, too.

Narumi offers as a prayer of hope. "I'm sure it isn't as bad as you fear." She looks to the teahouse door and the moss peeping out of the seams of stones steps. The teahouse sliding door is closed with shadows dancing against the white paper. "Now, where has my husband taken himself?"

"He is right by your side, dear wife." Lu Ten comes up behind Narumi via the dragon bridge tail. He reaches around and clasps Narumi's waist of black velvet. The pointed shape of the material gives her an appearance of having even a tinier waist then what she possesses. Lu Ten holds her close and kisses the neck of his wife. Narumi drops back her head and rubs her cheek against Lu Ten's. Her hand strokes the side of her husband's face.

Zuko watches the loving interchange and wonders if he will ever have that in his life.

Lu Ten notices his cousin's far off countenance. He moves Narumi to his side, still holding his wife close. He tries drawing out his cousin. "Zuko, did you tell Narumi about Lady Katara?"

Narumi glances at Zuko with piqued intrigue. "Lady Katara from the Southern Water Tribe?"

Lu Ten interjects before his cousin can deny or change the subject. "Yes, the very one, she swooned and luckily for her, Zuko was there to catch her." Lu Ten spins his wife around and then drops her in a dip, kissing her soundly on the lips.

Zuko protests, "I did not kiss her, Lu Ten."

"More's the pity," Lu Ten rights Narumi. "I do enjoy kissing this young lady."

"Ever the flirt," Narumi says with a lilt of humor. She clears her throat and states with a prim importance, mainly directed at her teasing husband. "Zuko, it was quite gentlemanly of you to aide Lady Katara in her time of distress." She folds her sleeve covered arms with black lace at the wrists. Tilting her chin toward her husband, she parries with a harder edge of teasing. "Unfortunately for Lu Ten, ladies often had difficulty remaining upright around him."

Zuko brusquely explains, "It wasn't like that, Lady Katara fell ill."

Narumi's good humor vanishes as concern laces her words. "Is she alright? Whatever happened to her?"

"She got overheated." A look of worry crosses Zuko's face. "The healers are helping her now."

Lu Ten adds with a faux-scholarly tone, trying to steer Zuko away from one of his triggers. "Preliminary reports have indicated Lady Katara's is suffering under a bad case of enamored-itis."

Zuko blusters, "There is no such thing as enamored-itis."

Narumi replies crossly, perturbed her husband is needling Zuko. "Lu Ten, stop teasing Zuko."

Lu Ten holds up his hands in surrender and contrition. "Fair enough, but it is such an anomaly to see Zuko flustered over a girl."

Zuko didn't think he had been anything other than worried about Katara's well being. His interest in her is merely a means to a completion of his overall mission. He defends himself. "I was merely trying to pursue a lead. Besides, I've dated girls before."

"You've dated Mai, and I wouldn't exactly call her a girl, more like a shadow that seems perpetually bored by life." Lu Ten could never understand what Zuko saw in her. There were plenty of noble ladies who at least could carry on a conversation with a relative spark to their wit.

Narumi bursts out laughing and then covers her mouth. "Not nice, Lu Ten." She had tried to like Mai for Zuko's sake but could find nothing in common with her or get her to speak beyond monosyllabic responses.

Lu Ten kisses his wife again. "Am I wrong?"

Even Zuko can't help but have a small smirk. "I must admit, Mai could be rather hard to reach emotionally which I found frustrating."

"Wallpaper has a larger emotional range than Mai." Lu Ten shrugs.

Narumi really chortles. "Stop it, Lu Ten, you are not helping." She whispers, "Though you aren't lying." She moves next to Zuko, kissing his good cheek. "What Lu Ten is trying to say is that you could do better, dearest Zuko."

"I'm not interested in Lady Katara in that way." Zuko turns to the bridge's railing.

A red leaf falls from the cluster of trees and floats down onto the stream bed, landing near a koi fish. Little gears whirl and spin slowly rising the fish to standing. It opens its mouth and inhales the leaf. Shaking is rose, metal scales, it lowers down on the new spot. The stream bed is pristine again.

Zuko thinks that he has been put in a delicate position on how to negotiate with Katara. "I have a problem, and I was trying to figure out how Lady Katara fits within that greater problem."

Lu Ten reflects upon the business that had him scrambling for answers. "We have a lot of problems, brother; in fact, we barely averted a massive one at that meeting this morning." Lu Ten shakes his head. "I have warned father about waiting."

Narumi touches the side of Lu Ten's face. "Darling Lu Ten, your father always has a plan." She moves to Zuko and wraps an arm over his bent shoulders. "What is your plan, Zuko?"

Zuko rotates around. "At the moment, I have none. I'm not sure I ever had one."

"Are we still talking about Lady Katara?" Narumi urges Zuko to speak freely. "Tell us, Zuko, what is it?"

Lu Ten is lucky to have Narumi in his life. Zuko amends to himself that he is lucky they have allowed him to be in theirs. The truth issues forth from him in this moment of honest clarity. "Father has never trusted me and never will. I need to accept that."

Lu Ten speaks with devoted vehemence. "We trust you, brother."

"I know and I appreciate it, but I feel..." Zuko trails off. The blossoming moment of unburdening his doubts withers, the realization he is betraying everyone by speaking out loud his fears makes him withdraw. The pain in his eye begins to twinge. His hand rises to the socket, covering the deep grooves that stretch across his eye.

Narumi reaches out and places her hand on top of Zuko's. "I understand what it feels to be lost among strangers. My family is far within the spirit world." Lu Ten goes to his wife's shoulders, gripping them. She takes her free hand and touches Lu Ten's hand, speaking before his protests could be uttered. "Zuko, I think of my family often, desperately missing them. I have all of you," She looks over her shoulder at her husband. "Especially my darling Lu Ten." She slowly removes Zuko's hand from his eye, looking at him fully, his good and damaged sides. "But I know you need to feel that you belong to something that is a part of you."

Lu Ten kisses Narumi's cheek. "My love, you will always have me."

Narumi leans toward Lu Ten. "Yes, but there is something about your blood and being accepted by them."

Zuko thinks of the Southern Water Tribe family, whose apparent closeness seems so foreign. "Lady Katara and her brother, Sokka have such a strong bond." Zuko adds bitterly, "I will never have that with Azula."

Lu Ten's lip curls in disgust. "You have been spared. I feel for anyone that gets close to Azula." Lu Ten wishes Zuko isn't so tortured by the need to belong. He belongs with them. Lu Ten has always felt that Zuko is his rightful brother. He helped spare Lu Ten of the loneliness of being an only child, then there was Zuko's mother, who had cared for a motherless Lu Ten. "Zuko, we have all been bereft of someone. Aunt Ursa is like a mother to me. I see her no difference with her."

Zuko looks at his cousin who has never had to struggle. Everything comes easy for him, so similar to Azula, yet Lu Ten differed in every way from Zuko's sister. Lu Ten isn't filled with malice toward the world.

Lu Ten speaks. "Zuko, today, our side won. Yet, the war has only begun. I fear there is much more we must learn."

Zuko says grimly, "Yes, Father never does something without intent."

"Exactly, the refugees are not the professed reason for him proposing that mandate, there is a larger plan to his machinations." Lu Ten pauses, treading carefully. "Zuko, if Uncle Ozai tries to talk to you, let us know what his true intent is."

Zuko insists, "He won't talk to me when he has Azula to do his bidding."

Narumi closed her eyes and shakes her head. "Azula isn't as loyal as one would think. She cares only about protecting herself."

Zuko doesn't want to think about his father or Azula any longer. He changes the subject. "Lu Ten, did Uncle tell you about last night and the pirates?"

"Yes," Lu Ten nodded. "I wanted to ask you about your leg, but we got sidetracked."

Zuko pulls up his pants leg, A faint scar line, barely discernible, is incongruent to the wound from the previous evening. He is proud that it healed so cleanly. "It has healed quite nicely. I cauterized it myself."

Narumi bends forward to inspect it. "Interesting scar for a cauterized wound, you can hardly tell it is there." She stands up and faces her back to Zuko. She looks accusingly at her husband, furious they called the healers to tend to Zuko without his permission. They exchange a silent disagreement before Narumi faces Zuko again and says breezily. "You must be careful Zuko with your hobby."

Zuko is unaware of Narumi and Lu Ten's interchange. Last night had been dreamless, Zuko had awoke refreshed. Though, he often has that experience when he is the Blue Spirit, especially after particularly taxing missions.

"I am careful, but I got on the wrong end of the pirate's knife."

Lu Ten decides this is the perfect opportunity to bring up the most important mandate of the mission. "Zuko, the main objective of the Blue Spirit is to go about unseen, remain in the shadows. There have been several reports circulating in the city of Blue Spirit sightings. I have been keeping the law enforcement calm, but they are convinced the Blue Spirit is a vigilante."

Narumi laughs and then covers her mouth. She shrugs and giggles again. "Zuko, can you imagine them trying to catch you doing that? They wouldn't believe the Blue Spirit is a royal prince."

Zuko demands, "And why not?"

Lu Ten is offended for both of them, too. It had been his idea to ask Zuko in the first instance to become the Blue Spirit. "Exactly, Narumi, Zuko would be a great vigilante." Lu Ten shakes his head, now at a loss what he is defending. "Well, he is a great vigilante."

Narumi rolls her eyes and flits her hand at their nonsense. "You two are so like each other; you are easily offended by the silliest of things. Who cares if the people think the Blue Spirit is a vigilante or not. It doesn't hurt anyone."

Lu Ten and Zuko look at each other incredulously. "We care." They say simultaneously.

Narumi flutters her hands at them. "You two are hopeless." She pulls back the lace at her wrist and reads the time on her slim gold watch. "I must leave. I will be late for the children's ward at the orphanage."

Lu Ten rushes to his wife's side. "Narumi, in your condition, is it wise for you to be around the children?"

Narumi caresses Lu Ten's cheek and softly kisses him. She looks into his yellow eyes and assures her husband. "I know it seems like I will break into a thousand pieces, but I am stronger than you give me credit for." She winks at both men, "Besides who will read the children stories about the Blue Spirit, extolling his noble virtues and thus countering those pesky vigilante lies." Narumi sashays away toward the mouth of the dragon and onto the cobbled path which leads through the orchids-rose section of Iroh's garden. As she walks along, her hand glides over the blooms.

Staring after Narumi, Lu Ten drapes his arm across Zuko's shoulder. "Brother, my wife never ceases to amaze me."

"She is special, Lu Ten." Zuko watched Narumi exit the garden, holding up her hand as a parting greeting before closing the gate after her. "I hope one day..." Zuko trails off, feeling ridiculous to mention out loud his desire.

Lu Ten drops his arm from Zuko's shoulders. "You will. There is someone out there for you, maybe you have already met her."

Iroh and Ursa approach from behind, speaking simultaneously. "Met who?"

Zuko barks out before Lu Ten can respond, "No one." Zuko gives his cousin a warning look that Lu Ten better not say a word, especially to his romantically minded mother.

Ursa raises her eyebrows in suspicion, she kisses Zuko gently on his cheek. "Fine, you don't want to tell your mother, I understand. Though when you were a boy, you use to tell me everything." She smiles at Lu Ten and kisses him on the cheek, too. "I suppose you won't tell me either, Lu Ten?"

Iroh adds quietly. "We are all entitled to our secrets."

Ursa pauses and watches Iroh for a moment. There is a sadness in her eyes. Her mouth lifts slightly and then falls. "Very true, Iroh, as usual, you are perceptive." She curtsies. Her day dress of yellow pools, and she rises. Iroh and Ursa both lock eyes.

Shaking away her distracting thoughts, Ursa focuses her attention on her son. "Zuko, please say you can help me with the widow bake contest. The widow's quilting bee got switched for the baking contest, due to the Tribute Festival."

Zuko did not want to help or disappoint his mother. He panicked for a viable alternative. "Well, I…"

Ursa feels desperate to have an ally. "Oh please, Zuko, last time you reneged on the baking contest I brought Azula. It did not go well. She made Lady Tarna cry by informing the poor woman that her Fire Flake Currant jam is probably what killed her husband."

All three laughed. Zuko had been forced fed some of Lady Tarna's infamous jam once on a homebound visit to Lady Tarna's with his mother. After sampling the Fire Flake Current jam, Zuko had immediately wanted to bleach his tongue for the taste was so foul.

Ursa looks cross. "Lady Tarna's Fire Flake Currant jam does have a biting taste but that was a little harsh for Azula to say." When no one apologizes or offers to join her, Ursa throws up her hands in resignation. "Fine, I will do it myself."

Iroh interjects. "Ursa, even if Zuko offered to join you, I require his help in a delicate matter."

Ursa is slightly mollified and smiles lovingly at her son. "Well, in that case, I can allow it." She looks at Lu Ten hopefully. "Dearest Lu Ten…"

Lu Ten practically stumbles over his excuse, having suffered through a dinner prepared by Lady Tarna. "Father needs me as well, Aunt."

Ursa looks at the two men before her and wishes they were little boys again. "I hope you two aren't too busy working; please try and pretend to be young, you will be grown up and living the life an adult all too soon."

Zuko and Lu Ten nod dutifully, giving each other side glances of relief that they managed to avoid the sub-par cooking of Lady Tarna.

Ursa's hair is wrapped in a loose bun, small tendrils of brown hair frame her face. She bows her head as she lowers herself in another dignified curtsy. "Thank you, Iroh, for tea this afternoon, I appreciate it as always."

Iroh bows at his waist and states with an equal dignified response, "Until next time, Ursa."

Ursa rises, "Yes, next time." Giving a brief hug to Lu Ten and Zuko, Ursa exits in the same direction as Narumi.

As Zuko and Lu Ten have their backs to Iroh, a pained expression crosses upon the Crown Prince's face. He conceals it before Lu Ten and Zuko turn around. When they face him again, Iroh has his normal countenance. "So Nephew, where will the Blue Spirit fly tonight?"

Zuko rests against the bridge's rail. "My plan is to follow the M-hound and see where it takes me."

Iroh agrees with the proposed idea. "Fine idea, Nephew, most of the lower quarters will be busy with various performances. I made sure to allow extra stages set up this evening to help contain and distract the curious."

Lu Ten cautions, "Zuko, please be careful. I had the police force be extra vigilant at the stages to help prevent any random patrolling in the city. You need to steer clear of the stages, or you might attract unwanted attention."

Zuko clicks his heels together in dutiful agreement. Iroh joyfully claps both of his hands on the shoulders of Lu Ten and Zuko. "Sons, we will be successful tonight. I can feel it."

"Uncle, you say that every night." Zuko rolls his eyes.

Iroh's eyes twinkle. "I mean it every night."

Lu Ten laughs out loud heartily. Zuko shakes his head with pleasant exasperation.


Azula strides down the long corridor. How dare father summon me like I'm some servant. She had been in the middle of a riding lesson with a mechanical eel hound. She had almost reached a pinnacle of ecstasy, the metal animal's back undulating between her thighs. When her father's message over the radio-com trilled with buzzing persistence, she had to cease riding, leaving her lesson unfulfilled. Azula had exited the workout room still wearing her riding habit. Even though she possessed that unsettled feeling between her thighs, she wouldn't quench the unease with her own hand. Azula would have to get a servant to appease her with a quickening of the tongue, lapping and circling her frustration until escalating her to feminine release.

The need for initiating recreational sport had been a result of Zuko's slight. How dare he choose to cavort with someone besides her and a peasant no less. It beyond ludicrous that he even deigned to talk to the likes of that Southern scum.

A slow pleased smile tilts Azula's full lips into a giddy grin. Her impromptu reference to Katara as Southern Scum makes Azula twitter with delight. That title is much more appropriate rather than the deference of Lady, considering Katara is from that far-flung back-water locale. A true Lady is noble and regal and there is no way Katara would fall into that category with her paltry wardrobe.

Azula reflects that the court is teaming with purported Ladies of the Court. They, too, should be forcefully banished from using that title. However, Azula cares little to voice her opinions public, she is, after all, a princess and therefore high above any Lady, no matter how false its lowly rung. What does it matter that the court's women are simpering fools, fawning over the likes of Lords, who are dull and uninteresting. In fact, the only interesting thing about the court is how easy each one can be played, picked off one-by-one by their obvious weaknesses. Azula had learned, barely out of the cradle, to never trust anyone, even those closest to you, know their weaknesses so you may crush them before they can suspect your vulnerable chinks.

Azula flexes her shoulders. Her white silk blouse with puffed sleeves gathers into tighter cuffs at her wrists. Her hands brush against the flared sides of her jodhpurs as she walks down the dimly lit hallway. She insisted on wearing pants, rather than some cumbersome skirt for her riding. It had been a fight with her mother but easily won, when Ursa preferred to yield quickly to Azula's demands rather than deal with her daughter. Ursa, her name twists Azula insides and emotional swirls itch her mind, she exhales in a long slow breath and the unsettling sensation subsides.

Azula's boots create a soft whisper as they stride across the red carpet. Her mind muses upon the Southern Scum and her family. She knows the buffoon of a brother will be sacrificed at the Tribute's official ceremony. A boon either way for the Southern Water Tribe, the insignificant nation will survive for another year, and Katara will be in line for whatever equivalent title their nation has for King. It is Katara, particularly who bedeviled Azula. She can't quite put her finger on what Katara is hiding, but Azula will. After all, Azula is a people person. She has managed to figure out what most people want and then get them to fear her, knowing another's weakness is true power.

Zuko's weakness is so transparent, gain father's love, such a trite ambition. He is so easily manipulated by it, and yet, Azula can never crush Zuko by it. She can needle and make him squirm over Ozai's favor for his daughter as if that favor means anything, but even that never bends Zuko to Azula's will.

Ty Lee and Mai have proven dependable as allies, each one relegated to a role: jester and assassin. Though they share cross purpose qualities, generally they are predictable in their behaviors. Ty Lee's allows thoughts to drift with nonplussed amusement, but her finesse with fighting acrobatics is propitious. Mai doesn't take up space or demands attention, an advantageous quality for remaining in the shadows and throw a deadly knife at razor accuracy. Mai's greatest asset came when Zuko and she were dating; Mai could keep tabs on Zuko. It made things easier with father of course when mollifying him.

The double door loom at the end of the hallway. The abundance of gold ornamentation borders on the gaudy if not stepping over what is considered tasteful. The opulent amount of carving boast of prestige. Ozai is predictable, as long as there is power to be had, Azula knows her father will do anything to obtain it. They aren't dissimilar in that way.

Azula reaches Ozai's private bedroom. The double doors open to her touch, not locked in anticipation of Azula's arrival. The golden monstrosities swing wide, revealing the long naked back of her father, standing on the step ledge which leads into velvet draped canopy bed. Ozai's buttocks flex as he pumps into the woman in front of him. He moves back and forth, quickening his motions with each movement. The room has the distinct odor of sex and sweat commingling.

Faint pants from her father are the only sounds. Azula moves to the far chair in the corner. She sits down, crossing her legs as she waits for her father to finish. Ozai moves harder and faster into the buttocks of the woman. Azula assumes it's a woman, the reddish dim of the lights and thick curtains make a definite determination difficult. The gag in the mouth is prominent enough and keeps any gender determining noises from issuing. Ozai gives one final thrust, releasing himself. Pulling out, his ugani is flaccid. He backs off the bed, while the woman remains kneeling on all fours.

Ozai begins toweling himself at a small table situated nearby. The spindly wooden legs support a gold leaf top, sexual necessities of liquors, lubricants, and a tray of tidbits to sustain the body's energy are scattered across the surface. Wiping the sweat from his face and chest in fluid motions, Ozai's other hand grabs one of the goblets and takes a long drink.

Azula casually reaches for the bowl on the roundtable to the side of the chair. As she picks up a moon peach from the pile of fruit, she raises it to her mouth.

Ozai stops Azula as the fruit touches her lips. "I don't believe I gave you permission to eat, Azula."

Azula pauses, her white teeth poised to bite into the peach flesh. She hesitates, but then draws the fruit away, returning it to the moon peach pile in the bowl. "If I'm not here to eat, then why did you call me?"

"We have a mutual problem." Ozai tosses the towel on the free-standing rack next to the table.

"I don't have any problems." Azula raises one perfectly arched eyebrow. "The only problem that seems to be present is for your slave. How long has she had to endure your frustrations?"

Ozai's eyes glitter with a warning. "Azula, you may forget yourself around others, but never forget yourself around me."

Azula switches the cross of her legs, forgoing an apology. She inquires of the directive. "What is our mutual problem, then?"

Ozai doesn't bother to put on a robe. He paces back and forth. His naked body is toned with defined abdominal muscles. His member is slack but well possessed. "Your brother, Zuko, could have proven himself loyal at the vote today, but he managed to side with that mother frurocer brother of mine." Ozai predatorily walks closer to Azula, taking a long drink. His eyes glitter with suppressed anger. "I thought you spoke with Zuko last night."

"I did," Azula replies tightly. "I explained the situation and made it known that it would please you if he aligned his vote with us and your faction."

"Obviously, your power in knowing what people want isn't as illustrious as you like to extoll. " Ozai hisses, "Your little talk did nothing."

Azula's seethes internally but paries flippantly. "What else would you have me do then?" She casually places her arms on the chairs' rest with a careless abandon. "This is, after all, your project, not mine."

Ozai speaks slowly as if he is talking to a simpleton."Then, you must use your feminine powers to persuade him,"

The edge in Azula's voice clips an irritation of her own, "I don't think Zuko is interested in anyone."

"Then you haven't tried hard enough." Ozai finishes the drink in the goblet. The rich gems catch the low light and glint. He whips around, marching to the side table by the bed. He returns the cup. "You need to find out what makes Zuko more pliable, and then we can finally move forward with my little project."

Azula pushes against the chair's arms and rises slowly. "I understand, father."

Ozai turns and releases himself on the woman in front of him, a long golden stream issues from his ugani in a yellow arch. His urine splashes across her back, running down the sides. He drops his phallus, shaking off the clinging droplets. "Good, report back when you have done it. I want to see the proof of Zuko's loyalty." He leans back and arches; his ugani grows in breadth and size. Climbing back on the bed, he lifts his member back into the behind of the slave. He begins rhythmically pumping into her.

"That will be all, Azula." As Azula starts to leave, Ozai issues, "Take a moon peach on your way out."

Azula sneers at the bowl. She snatches a peach. Approaching the door, it opens, and she strides through it. The door closes, shutting the image of Ozai thrusting into the woman.

Azula moves down the hallway with a nonchalant gait, tossing the peach up and down in her hand. She catches it and throws it back up in a repetitive manner. When she reaches the end of the hallway, she swivels around and stares at the shut door. Azula tosses the moon peach up once more, but this time when she catches it in her hand, her fingers grip the fruit. Her long nails imprison it and then gradually unfurl. The soft fuzz covering its juicy round body rests on her palm. She stares at it, her lip quivering with disgust.

In an instant, it bursts into flames. The blue flame consumes the fruit, turning it to dust. Azula lets the ash fall through her fingers, flicking the remnants on the carpet floor. Contented, Azula spins around, sashaying away.


A/N: I have to say that I feel for Azula. I think she might be one of the most tragic characters in Avatar the Last Airbender. She truly has no one. That said, she doesn't do much to help herself. I adore writing for Lu Ten and Narumi. I almost feel like I need to write a fan fiction about their back love story.

I'm not sure when Chapter 10 will get out. I had this one really fleshed out when I started editing it, and editing went a lot smoother than my previous two chapters. Shout out to my favorite fan, you know who you are;)

Author's plea: It really does my heart good when you write a review, follow, and/or favorite. Please consider me, oh wonderful fan fiction public!