Title: The Art Of Deception
Author: Lala-Ness (vivian)
Genre: Drama + Romance
Summary: Zuko's world had been shattered once, and Katara finds that she can
melt the icy barrier that surrounds his heart. But there is a killer among the Fire
Nation, and both Zhao and Zula decide it's time to get rid of the Prince. Permanently.
Disclaimer: Avatar: The Last Airbender and friends do not belong to me. The plot,
however, is mine - along with any of the encounters and scenes that appear in TAOD.
Chapter Four
InvitationTo Death
She burned the sauce. Mariko wrinkled her nose as she headed down the markets to her grandfather's house. She wasn't much of a cook, but she was - in general - a precise cook. For this meal, she'd planned to prepare Tonkatsu, one of Yakashiku's favorites, from scratch and match it with a nice field of green salad and some fresh, crusty bread with curry dipping sauce. In her tidy kitchen in her pretty suburban house she had all the ingredients lined up, her cookbook propped on it's stand.
And then she forgot all about the sauce. When she finally remembered to check up on it, the curry was already completely hardened and almost impossible to scratch off the pan. It was a complete waste. Besides, Mariko would have rather been delivering food than cook it. Why it was a required trait for all women in the Fire Nation was beyond her. She never cared much for how much of something was required for just the right taste, or how many of whatever she would need to make sure it was just the right look.
The worst part, as far as Mariko was concerned, was that it was utterly boring. Stirring after stirring, cutting and cracking. But her mother had laid down the law - the one about females always presenting themselves as handy delicate flowers. And when Mother laid down the law, everyone jumped. That was the problem, she thought disgustedly. Mother was just too bossy for her own good.
Sighing, she patted the lunch in her bag. Just some deep fried pork cutlets would do. General Yakashiku was never one to be picky. She looked up into the clear blue sky and sucked in the fresh air. It was a lovely day for a walk. And her grandfather would be happy to see her - he always was. She hadn't seen him in over two months. The man was a crack-pot, she mused, but she absolutely adored him. She continued to wander the path, lost in her own thoughts. And the next thing she saw was a glimpse of green before finding herself sprawled across the dirt ground with cabbages flying all over the place.
"My cabbages!" a man cried, shaking his head furiously. "Look what you've done to my cabbages!" Almost as if he'd done it several times before, he picked up one by one and tried to neatly stack them one on top of another. In the end, they simply collapsed in a flourish of green heads. Mariko quickly rose, snatching her grandfather's lunch before one of the round balls could crush it. The Cabbage merchant snarled almost desperately as he chased after the rolling cabbages. "I should've sold cantaloupes," she heard him mumble.
She watched him mumble a trail of curses, before she called out. "I'm sorry!" and continued on her way to Yakashiku's home. Just thinking of the look on her grandfather's face when he saw her caused the complete dissmissal of the poor merchant. But he didn't answer. She frowned and knocked again, much harder this time. "Grandfather?" she called. No reply. She touched a hand to the sliding door, wondering if he was even home. When it easily slid open, she thought nothing of it. Slipping off her shoes, she stepped inside.
Her foolish smile changed into a look of curiosity, and than disgust. Oh god, what is that smell? she wondered, her eyes watering from the horrible scent. In defense, Mariko began breathing though her teeth. "Grandfather?" She passed the kitchen and placed the container of food on his table. Where could he be? She took a hankerchief from her pocket and used it to cover her nose, though it couldn't possibly help much.
"Grandfather? I brought you lunch." She figured he was in the living room, enjoying a cup of tea and a game of Pai Gow. She stepped in and grinned. Her old man was sitting in a chair facing a window, with his back facing her. She stepped forward to greet him, but halted when the hard brush of something slid across her bare foot. She looked down and stared at the red stain. Quirking a brow, she glanced at the chair, before the realization struck her.
"Grandfather, have you been learning how to cook?" She smiled warmly. It explained everything - the smell, the stain. He was learning to cook. She thought for a moment that perhaps horrible cooking was hereditary in her family. The smile was wiped off when she recieved no response from him. Not even a chuckle and snort.
"Are you okay?" Still no answer. Her brows creased in confusion. Why wouldn't he answer? She rushed forward and swiveled the chair around. The sight of him caused color to abandon her face, turning it deathly white. Yakashiku's eyes were open, bloodshot, with his brows arched. They were no longer the beautiful chocolate brown eyes that she knew and loved, and they held no warmth, no welcoming, no life. They were a colorless black, and in them was stark terror.
Mariko pressed a hand to her mouth, staring down at decayed face. Her grandfather...she didn't bother finished the thought, for her eyes had trailed to to his chest, where a gaping slice seeped through his clothing, the dark liquid staning the cloth. Tears escaped her eyes, and she sobbed. The smell - it was him all along. The stain on the floor was blood. His blood. How long have you passed, Grandfather? she wondered painfully. Who took you away?
Without another word, she turned away, coughing and gagging, then began a shambling run out the door, screaming for help.
Quiet whispers of wind whistled past the trees, causing the flutter of leaves. Beneath the tall majestic beauty of the canopes, intruders only enhanced the forest's lush colors, inducing them to easily camouflage in it's glory. The crunching of aged leaves could be heard among the erotic grunts and groans of battle. It was two against one, without the use of firebending. Her hand shot out, attempting to punch one of them men square in the nose, but her wrist was easily caught and flung aside. She backed away, only to be flipped on her back by the second opponent. The vision in her eyes became hazy for a moment. The attack was so unexpected, and she hadn't been prepared.
When she came again, the two men were gone. Not a trace of them left. Snarling in frustration, she rose to put herself in a fighting stance. Firmly placing one foot in front of her, and sliding one behind to balance, she lifted her fisted hands - prepared for the next attack. Her golden-brown eyes darted from side to side, searching for any sign of the men. She was exhuasted. During the beginning of their battle, she'd receieved the upperhand, blowing both men away with the jab of her hands and the fierceness of her kicks. She'd easily evaded their attacks, ducking here and jumping there.
But they'd worn her out. It wasn't until they'd reached the forest that she knew it was their intent straight from the beginning. Fatigue had overwhelmed her, causing her offensive attacks to slow, and her only chance of not losing was to defend herself. She panted heavily as she stepped forward, beads of sweat ever so slowly running down the sides of her face. Anger roiled inside her, causing the release of weariness and the arrival of determination. Defeat was for cowards - she wasn't one.
When the glimpse of blood-red armor caught her eye, she knew. They were hiding in the trees, awaiting for her to walk right into their trap. A shrewd half-smile formed on her lips. She backed away until she was out of their visible distance. And, with the quick agility and maneuvers only belonging to citizens of the Fire Nation, she was able to climb one of trees. She took a good look ahead of her. The branches of the trees were in close proximity, which meant walking across them would be a breeze. She did so, only stepping on each branch for a half second before walking on the next one.
As she neared her opponents, her heart began racing rapidly at the intensity of it all. But it jumped when she saw that there was no one there. Confusion creased her brows. Where were they? Without another thought, she prepared to jump down. The sudden clash of another body into hers caused a great whoosh from her lungs, and she found herself headed towards the hard dirt. She angled her body so that she rolled safely on the ground before landing roughly on her feet.
Looking up, she saw nothing. And cursed - they'd fooled her again. A crunch of boots behind her sharpened her senses. Swiftly, she swerved around and jabbed one of them in the stomach. He wore the typical Fire Nation army's mask, so she saw nothing when his eyes widened in surprise. Using it to her advantage, her leg went up in a semi-circular motion before slamming hard on his left shoulder. A sharp intake of breath proved she was winning, and she watched him go to ground in a kneeling position.
Without thinking, her free leg kicked out behind her so that she was in mid-air. She remained when her foot was solidly planted on the armor of her other opponent. Within moments, another battle was emerging. The man behind her took a firm grip on her ankle and tried to twist it. She simply let go and allowed her self to twist along with it until she was standing on both legs once again. Both men rose and attacked, while she evaded and dodged. This went on until they came out of the forest and into a clearing with solid ground.
Taking the risk, she ducked one attack and shot out one hand. Fire flew out from her palm and forced the two men to back away. Both her arms were stretched out, awaiting for their next attack. They stood in a triangle - none of them moved an inch. The moments of utter silence thickened the tension that swam in the air. The fighter to her right moved forward, and she launched three Fireballs at him. He was able to dodge the first one, quickly pushed himself to the ground to miss the second, and flip in the air to evade the last. In doing so, he had allowed himself to come close enough to attack her.
He did so, jabbing her in the stomach, causing her to bend over. Then on the neck, which pushed her to the ground. And finally a foot placed on her stomach. She growled, grabbing his ankle and shoved it back, causing his balance to shake. She quickly got to her feet and shot more fireballs. His evasions weren't so graceful this time, and he fell back. She breathed heavily, still in a fighting stance and watched. Both men kneeled and bowed to her. She knew it meant she'd won, and allowed her hands to drop to her sides.
"You may rise," she told them.
"You've improved, Princess Zula," one man told her, peeling off his mask and helmet.
"Fire Lord Ozai will be proud," the other added, holding his helmet to his side.
Zula gave an unladylike snort, but both men saw the glint of fire in her eyes. "The most he could be is satisfied." She spit out the last word in sheer disgust. Her chin lifted in a sign of defiance - a symbol that meant that there would be no argument about it. Both men bowed once again.
"As you say, Princess." That ended their short conversation, and they walked off towards the palace to report of their battle. She watched them in the distance. And when she was sure they couldn't hear, she cursed a string of words and sent her helmet flying into the ground.
"Satisfied, Father?" she spat, talking more to herself than anyone - or anything - else. If she were a man, things would be different. Men overuled the women in Fire Lord Ozai's nation. It was always men in battle, men in the army, men who were respected, men who got promoted. She hated it. As daughter of the Fire Lord, she was allowed priviledges that most people wished for, but was forbidden to attend war meetings and help the army.
Zuko. Unconciously, her hands fisted and lighted fire. Her brother was allowed to do anything he pleased - roam the palace, enter the war chambers, attend the meetings. While she was detained to a few rooms and Agni Kai stadiums. Yet he wanted 'what was right'. She hated him for it. It was she who should be heir to the throne, not her brother. She snarled, angrily tossing Fireballs to lash out her fury. She did so without thinking, so when Ozai's personal assistant came to address her, he'd barely missed the barrage of blows.
"You really should watch that temper of yours, Princess," Ryoto commented as he approached her. He was a scrawny old man, one whom she detested with all her soul.
"You should watch your back," she countered, tossing a look over her shoulder. "I might just try and do something about it."
His eyes flickered, but his composure remained calm. "Fire Lord Ozai wishes to speak with you."
"Probably about your getting fired," Zula said aloud. Her eyes widened in mock expression. "Oops, did I say that out loud?" Without waiting for his comeback, she walked swiftly past him towards the palace. "Like I said," she continued, not even glancing behind her. "Watch your back."
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