Author's Note: Hello again dearest reader. This is another piece that I has been living in my mind for a while now. Be warned, this is a more mature fic. Anyone who does not enjoy pain, suffering and torture, look away.
I see this as a three-part work. I hope you will be patient with me as I slowly churn out the chapters (work has been rather taxing recently).
As always, review and criticism is always appreciated. I will crosspost my writings on AO3 as well.
Chapter 1: Inferno
Beneath the walls of the Royal Palace, the muffled screams of the damned go unheard. A labyrinthian complex of rooms and passageways sprawl through the bedrock. Here, within its grimy confines, truth is the currency, bartered and traded in exchange for blood and freedom. The air here lays acrid with the smell of burning and decay, thick and damp. Dimly lit sconces demarcate its twisting halls, the path forward known by few. A grimy sheen cakes the interior cobblestone, reflecting the misery that inhabits these moldering walls. The existence of these halls are only whispered, its purpose shrouded in mystery. They remain hidden, ensconced under the gilded veneer of splendor from the world above.
Perfect for a headsman's private work.
Within the chamber, the hooded man raises his hand again. The blade gleams in the flickering firelight. The dagger, worn but well kept, sang within his grasp. Like an artist, he assesses his masterpiece before him, trying to glean the inspiration that lay within. He bares his teeth in a vicious grin before making another practiced stroke.
Azula tries to muffle her screams of agony.
This time, the gash appears on her left thigh, biting deep into her sinew and muscle. A wave of pain crashes through her body as a pained yelp escapes her throat. She bites down hard and gnashes her teeth, trying to staunch the wails that threaten to leave her mouth. The bastard did not deserve such satisfaction.
Though committed with zeal, the laceration was performed with surgical precision. It was measured, careful to avoid any major vessels that could lead to an untimely quick exsanguination. Within seconds, Azula could feel the fresh wound grow warm, as blood began to pool and fill the gash. A steady trickle of blood flowed down her leg, adding to the collection that already adorned the floor. Azula took quick, shallow breaths, feeling every tendon in her body writhe in protest at the new addition to her body.
"Now, now, let's not get too excited, Princess. We're not finished yet." The man rasps, his voice like razors on chalk, "Allow me to clean it up for you."
He turns, facing the open flame that illuminated the cobblestone floor. With great care, he fingers through the assortment of metal tools that lay neatly upon the nearby table, eventually coming to a stop gently upon the metal handle that lay protruding from the burning coals. With a brisk tug, he frees the iron from its prison, its tip white-hot from the heat of the flames. He turns back again to once again to face his canvas.
The hooded man grins fiendishly.
"Don't worry, this will barely hurt, Princess."
With difficulty, she lolls her head up, leveling him with a defiant gaze.
"Go fuck yourself, Yukai."
Her words are like music to his ears as he grins even wider, taking two bounding steps closer to his chained muse. At this distance, Azula could smell the reek of alcohol emanating from under the hood.
"I've always admired your zeal, Princess." He eyes her earnestly, before switching his attention to the burning iron. "Now, let's put it to the test."
A new pain rips through her psyche. It was a familiar, but still painful sensation for Azula. Years of training and combat had made her no stranger to her fair share of burns. Her senses were soon assaulted by the accompanying smell of burning flesh. She held back the urge to gag. That smell ironically never sat particularly well with her. The sizzling echoed through the cobblestone walls, shattering the torpid silence. Azula bites down again, hoping to hold in any more wails that threaten to escape her cracked lips. He did not deserve an ounce further of sadistic pleasure. Releasing pressure, Yukai pulls the hot iron from her thigh, the pool of blood now bubbling and cauterized.
He gives a faux-frown.
"Oh, how disappointing." he says, as he eyes the Princess with faux displeasure, "Well, I suppose I will have to start all over again…"
Before he could turn to appraise his tools again, the chamber doors swing open with a groaning creak. Within the doorway stands a lone, imposing figure, the details of their face shrouded by the shadows of the poorly-lit room. He surveys the room silently before addressing the room's inhabitants.
"Yukai, leave us." His words are clipped and unfettered. The markings of unquestioned royalty.
Now, the smile truly leaves the hooded man's face, "But, my Lord, I have only just begun-"
He takes a single step forward into the slimy interior. "Leave. Now. Or must I make you?"
This time, he left no room for interpretation. The hooded man shrinks in his spot, his resolve immediately broken. Without another word, Yukai bows shakily, quick to avoid the new arrival's burning gaze. He scurries his way against the cobblestone interior, fear apparent in every step, until he reaches the doorway. Without another word, he slinks out to the hallway and into the darkness.
As the footsteps of the headsman faded into nothingness, a terse silence began to fill the room. The man steps towards the Princess, his features now illuminated from the glow of the small hearth. He stood tall, proudly unbowed, the imperial red of his mantle accentuating his stock straight posture. He remained stoically impassive as his golden gaze was only matched by Azula's own, her expression one of thinly veiled rage.
"You disappoint me, Azula." Ozai's words are spoken just above a whisper, but delivered with authority, "I had such plans for you."
She licks her lips, wiping off the dried blood that painted her mouth like lipstick, "We both knew it would end this way, Father." she coughed out, her voice quiet but defiant, "The world does not have enough room for more than one over-ambitious Fire Royal." She finished her words with a weak smirk.
"And what of your ambitions, my child?" His words are laced with maligned intent, "I had graciously given you everything you could have ever wanted, and this is how you repay me?"
She can't help but laugh raspily at the Fire Lord's response, her throat burning in protest, "Please, did you truly think I could believe that? You, leaving me with nothing but a small token of consolation, as you became sovereign of the world?" Her words were frayed and wavering, but she pushed forth nevertheless, "You should be proud of me for taking my ambitions into my own hands."
Ozai's eyes narrow slightly in irritation, anger simmering behind his eyes, "Proud? You act in defiance of the throne by conspiring with the enemy!" he barks, his voice growing louder, "Do you have any idea of the consequences of your actions, how your actions threaten the stability of our homeland, let alone the throne?"
"Of course I knew!" Azula spat back, the rage no longer hidden in her voice, the emotions now no longer hidden in her words, "All I have done, I have done for the glory of the Fire Nation! For years, I watched you squander our potential for nothing! I did what any good monarch would do and sought a better way forward." She paused, lungs burning from the air as her body reeled in pain from her impassioned defense.
"And I would do it all over again."
Her words drew from a deeper longing that perhaps even Azula did not notice. Ozai's expression flickered slightly, drawing recognition to the guttural pain in her voice. He knew where the source of her rage resided. And it was one that Ozai had secretly hoped was not the case. His nostrils flared in anger in realization.
"So, this is about that snow savage. Isn't it?" he snarled, a vicious smirk slowly forming across his face as a flicker of fear ran across Azula's face in recognition of her exposed feelings, "He tricks you into bedding him and now you're his to command?" Ozai no longer tries to hide the contempt in his words as he seethes, "I gave you everything, Azula. And what do I get in return? A weak-minded whore that debases herself to her basest instincts at the slightest suggestion?"
A renewed strength that Azula didn't even know she had flows through her veins at the mention of the water tribesman. She thrashes against the metal bindings desperately, her natural instincts giving one last attempt at freedom. The clanging of the chain links echoed helplessly through the halls. Despite her efforts, the locks remained firmly shut, holding her in place. Even with access to her firebending, she knew that the tempered steel locks would sear her flesh to the bone before even starting to melt.
"You are wrong, father! I recognized the value that Sokka brought with his intellect, so I formed a mutually beneficial alliance for the good of the Fire Nation!" Her words were renewed with a new fervor that surprised even her, "The inventions that he developed revolutionized our mechanized regiments. How else would our armies have pushed all the way to the walls of Ba Sing Se with barely 5000 infantry casualties?" She had hoped this day would never come. Never in a million years did Azula think that she would ever end up in a position where she would have to defend Sokka's honor to her father, let alone their involvement.
"His value was worth nothing the moment you decided to let him bed you!" he shouted, malice lacing every syllable of his words, "Do you realize how weak that makes me look? The royal bloodline, cuckolded by a common water tribe peasant?" He began pacing, boot heels clicking rhythmically against the stone floor. He maintained a murderous gaze on Azula, his guise now one of abject fury.
"This week alone, I personally saw to the execution of four would-be royal assassins." The Fire Lord tensed his shoulders in recollection, his anger brimming to the edge, "I have no doubts that it was due to the news that my own spawn decided to defile the purity of our lineage." he spat out venomously.
Azula couldn't help but sneer at her father's loss of control. Of course that's all he could think about.
"So that's what this is truly about? This childish tirade because I chose to give my body to Sokka?" Azula could see the Firelord's face scrunch ever so slightly in disgust at the thought of his daughter so flippantly deflowering herself, "Let me make one thing clear to you, father. Only I get to choose what to do with my body, and no one else." Every last ounce of strength was behind her words now, giving her the strength to ignore the pain, "So don't blame me for such a gross miscalculation on your part."
Ozai's rage broke in response. With a furious shout, he brings a burning hand down on the rotting wooden table next to him, shattering it to pieces. Molten splinters of wood showered the room, scattering in every direction. The torturer's tools now lay strewn haphazardly on the floor. He breathed heavily, his chest rising and falling at a rapid pace. A rare display of indiscretion that few witness and live to tell the tale.
Before long, he catches himself. Silently, he subsumes the rage that had escaped. Taking a few measured breaths, Ozai smoothes over the fabric of his mantle, also taking care to adjust the few loose hairs from his topknot that was thrown out of place by his explosive outburst.
Deafening silence fills the room once more, with the only sound being an occasional crack of the coals burning away in the hearth. The Firelord gazed into the flames for what seemed like an eternity, before turning back to face the Princess, his face an expressionless mask as when he first entered.
"Treasonous and seditious to the end." His gaze bore into hers, menace gripping every inch of his intent, "No matter. It's time to end this little charade. I came here to personally deliver my judgment to you."
Azula scoffs, "Well, then, what are you waiting for? Go ahead. Be a Firelord of honor and end your treasonous daughter's life."
At this, Ozai let out a small chuckle, a sinister sound that brought shivers down Azula's spine, "And give you a swift end?" he replied with a hint of bemusement, "No. You are far from deserving, my child."
"Yet, I am a merciful ruler." He pauses, letting his words hang in the air. For once, Azula had no idea where her father was insinuating.
"I will grant you the opportunity to fight me for your life in an Agni Kai." Ozai relished the look on Azula's face as the realization dawned on her. He continued, "I shall make you suffer like you have never suffered before. Only then, will I allow you to die."
Azula lets out a weak bark of a laugh, "You're offering to fight me in an Agni Kai? The person you've been torturing for weeks in your own personal dungeon? That hardly seems like an honorable fight."
Ozai simply sneered in response, "As I said, I am a merciful ruler. I will grant you the opportunity to spend a few days in your personal chambers to recuperate." he replies haughtily, "Of course, you will be under heavy guard. And any attempts to escape will be severely punished." Azula winced internally at the emphasis he placed on the word "severely". Somehow, she knew that Ozai was threatening more than just her life.
"Also… It would be a shame for you to die before seeing your water tribe savage of a lover again, don't you think?"
Azula sparked to attention as she finally grasped the meaning behind his words. A wave of hope and longing crashed over her, overwhelming the hate-filled emotions that had formed within her. A single tear fell from her eye as the façade she tried to maintain broke momentarily.
"Sokka…he's… still alive?"
He watched her silently, his expression smug. "Oh? Did Yukai not mention it? The man typically can't keep secrets for more than a fortnight." Ozai mused out loud, dropping out that hint of information to twist the blade even further, "He is alive, for now. I thought it would be poetic to have him watch as I show him the weight of his sins." He watched with sadistic glee as the relief in her eyes changed to a look of immediate fear, "Only after I've dealt with you will he be given the privilege of rotting away in a cell for the remainder of his days."
This can't be happening. What was once a moment filled with a brief flash of hope now lay drowned in her father's malicious intentions. She was fighting back the stream of hot tears now, as the emotions continued to roil within her. No, I can't give him the satisfaction. She refused to let him break her. She set her jaw, returning to the impassive visage of the perfect princess that Ozai had instilled in her.
The gaze she returns is strong. Defiant.
"I won't beg for mercy." she whispers firmly.
"I know you won't."
Ozai approached the wounded princess. From the cloak, he reaches out a hand, its intent still unrevealed. At first, Azula stared at him, unable to decipher her father's machinations. Those doubts began to dissipate as a glow began to form between them. A sheen of concentrated yellow flame began forming, wrapping around the Firelord's hand and forearm like a glove. Even from this distance, Azula could feel the intense heat begin to emanate from the now white-hot flames that coated Ozai's hand.
"So, for now, I will make do with screams." he replied, each click of his heels bringing him closer to within arms reach of her, "It's a shame. I had intended to teach this technique to you one day. It would have served you well." He brought the flames closer towards her exposed porcelain skin. Ozai grinned sadistically as her expression once again became one of realization and horror.
"No matter."
Azula's screams echoed through the hallways, late into the night.