AN: Alrighty here's another quick chapter. We get a bit more adult at the end here but that comes with a warning: NON-CONSENSUAL SEX aka RAPE. I toned it down from what I originally planned but it's still non-con. That being said, I will mark the whole sex scene (if you could even call it that) with lines if you wish to skip it.
On a lighter note, it can only get better from here! Think of this as rock bottom for our heroes. We must tear down their old relationship and build another from the ground up.
According to Suki, the "cycle" through the harm had only begun again before his journey to the South. If I am to be put at the bottom of the roster, which is assumed, then I will have a few weeks to infiltrate the palace. My orders are flexible to meet my goal, and I've since added gaining the trust of the Fire Lord to my roster. He seems pliable enough and I almost feel something like sympathy for him.
Almost.
Fire Lord Zuko has seen to my training personally. An honor, as many people say. Yes, I am so honored that this mighty man takes the time to try and make me obey him. The thought makes me sick with anger.
He tries to teach me to how to sit, or rather one of his women do. I don't catch her name and she doesn't exactly offer it, but she frowns when I am not compliant.
"I will not sit like some trophy beneath you. I am a human being!" I insist angrily, and I can see this makes him uneasy. About my humanity or my anger is unknown, but I'm glad all the same.
I glare up at him from where I've been seated on the steps to his throne. Phoenix King Ozai has his own special throne room and if he was present I'm sure the Fire Lord would be more strict. My guess is that he'd hate to embarrass himself in front of dear daddy.
He glares right back down at me, frowning. Probably doesn't know what to do with me. He jerks the chain in his hand that just so happens to be connected to an ornamental collar on my neck. Can you believe it?
I am jerked forward and fall down (up?) the steps.
"You shouldn't speak to your master that way. Have a little respect," he warns.
Even in this prostrated position I raise my head and muster all the hate I can into my eyes. If looks could kill.
Nobody else gets a collar. It's a sign I'm difficult to handle. Don't feed the harem girl, she might bite your hand off.
Since I can't be depended on to behave by myself, I get extra special walk time with the Master. That's what I'm supposed to call him. I only use it sarcastically and oh, he hates that. His faces gets red and it looks like he has one big scar. It would be terrifying if I ever got in trouble for it.
All he does is jerk me around on that chain all day and clearly he's never "broken" anyone, despite the rumors. He's an over grown kid with a powerful father, and that's about the extent of it.
"You don't make a very good bad guy," I point out one day. We're sitting on the edge of a fountain in the protective shade of a tree. "Seriously, this is the best you've got?" I give the metal collar a flick and it makes a ringing sound.
"I told you, I'm not a bad man." He frowns at me, but that is all he says. I've come to realize that this man is made up of a lot of frowns. When I think spoiled brat I think sneering and evil cackling, not moody pouting and frowning. He is the second most powerful man in the world, what could he possibly have to frown about? I decide to make it my business to find out.
"Why do you frown so much?" He looks at me like I'm an idiot, so I make my best impression of his grumpy face.
"I don't look like that," he says with a frown, and he looks very close to the face I'm pulling. I motion for him to compare our faces in the rippling water of the fountain, but he doesn't. "I'm unhappy."
"All the time?" The only time I've seen him close to anything like happy was when I made that joke about the Princess. His only response is a stony silence. I decide to take another approach.
"Is that why I'm here, my Lord? To make you happy?" I let my eyelids drop, hooding my eyes in a seductive manner. My voice becomes smooth as water over old stones, and it grabs his attention. He is no longer frowning but looks almost alarmed at this sudden change.
I lean towards him, exposing my cleavage ever so slightly, and my skirt rises on my thigh. It's an added bonus but he's more focused on my chest and I think of how easy it would be to just kill him now. I wouldn't get far and they would execute my family as well, but a girl could dream.
I like the power my womanly wiles have over him. It gives me a confidence to feel sexy, something that I have never felt before. I slip my hand into the front of his tunic and run it over his chest and I am pleased when I see his Adam's apple bob.
I'm having way to much fun with this (flirting?) but it's regrettably time to end this dangerous dance. If I take it too far, I'll end up on my back faster than I'd like.
"I never was a people pleaser myself." My voice resumes normality and I return my hand to the rim of the fountain. The look on his face is priceless. He looks like a child being cheated out of a treat! I have a few weeks left until my inevitable turn in his cycle, but he's the one in control, as much as I hate it.
As it happens, flirting is a perilous and addicting game. I love the rush of teasing to the point of breaking, but never actually crossing, that line. I might be an adrenaline junkie.
My favorite episodes include "accidentally" dropping a number of things. Some I have to bend over to pick up, and once there was a grape down the front of my shirt that I had to fish out.
There was another occasion where he tripped (was this guy seriously a royal?) and took me down with him via that stupid collar and chain, but I used it to my advantage.
"Oh!" I had exclaimed, batting my eyes innocently. I had "fallen" to basically straddle his waist. "How clumsy of me." We both knew it was all his fault and it wasn't hard for me to summon a blush. I could feel something hardening from my position, and it wasn't something in his pocket. His advances, if he made them, were always timid.
I pretended to settle down but the collar remained. Either he liked it or he forgot about it. I was getting used to its weight around my neck, and this is what troubled me the most.
I didn't need to be reminded when my week had started, but Yue reminded me anyway. She had an impeccable sense of time. Her special talent I guess. Mine is hand to hand combat, but hers is cool too.
Usually the unlucky woman is summoned at the end of the week, like he's putting it off until the last possible second. But my harmless flirting has been building tension for weeks now, and it's not surprising I am requested to join him the first night.
Dread weighs like a stone in my stomach. I may have gotten myself too deep too fast. Okay, I definitely did.
It's a trust building exercise, I tell myself, but it doesn't help. My feet feel like lead as I am escorted closer to a part of the palace I've never entered: the Fire Lord's chambers.
I knew this was going to happen eventually. But why so soon? I keep a tight rein on breathing easily, but it doesn't stop my heart from pounding so loudly.
My every instinct tells me to run from this dragon's den, and the guards have to nudge me in when we arrive. My legs move automatically and I faintly hear one of them snicker something about how I'm not so tough now.
He's right.
I am surprised the thick doors are so light as I pull them open. The first thing I notice is that it's dark. Well, mostly. The only source of light comes from candles strewn all around the room.
It is a large room with high ceilings. I don't know exactly how high, but they disappear into the darkness like they go on forever. The bed sits on a platform in the middle of the room, but I try not to look at it.
The man himself sits at a humble table, laid with tea and sweets. At least we wouldn't be getting down to business right away. Somehow this calms me slightly. Maybe he enjoys my company. Suki did say that it wasn't always the fucking, maybe we would just have tea and talk about what was wrong with the world.
Fat chance, since he was the problem.
I present myself to him but I refuse to bow. He has accepted this fact and choses to ignore it. He motions for me to sit next to him and I acquiesce. I have little choice.
"How is my Lord this evening?" I could not care less, honestly, and only hoped that he was dying of a rare and painful disease.
"I am fine," he says stiffly before adding, "Call me Zuko tonight."
"Okay, then you call me Katara." He's avoided saying my name this whole time, probably because he forgot it. If we're going by given names tonight, maybe we can also be on even ground. I can see him think on it briefly before he agrees.
"Katara," he says, getting used to the feel of it in his mouth. I immediately hate it. It sounds so wrong, so foreign, to have this pet of the Phoenix King say my name. When he looks at me for confirmation I nod. Yes, you said it right you little cretin. He looks like he expects me to do the same.
"Zuko." I'm ashamed to say that I get a slight thrill for being so blatantly common with his name. Honorifics are very important in the Fire Nation, my first lesson in this fiery pit. He looks like he's enjoying it too. His eyes are not hard gold daggers, but softer like molten gold. There's also a glaze to them, and I hate myself for missing it before.
It's so obvious that he's intoxicated. He's not swaying yet, so maybe not totally drunk, but he's well on his way. I was losing my edge, I should've smelled the sake on his breath.
"Are you always drunk with your women?" With any luck he'll pass out before anything happens. But with my luck, nothing so perfect could happen.
"No. Yes. Sometimes." He grabs the bottle from the floor and doesn't even bother to pour it into the cup. He bolts back a drink and returns it to the floor. My revulsion is plain on my face, but he doesn't notice. "It helps me do what I have to do. Gives me courage." He thumps a fist on his chest.
"My Lord, Zuko, why do you have these women if you do not want them?" Suki speculated it was his father, but I could have confirmation straight from the yak-horse's mouth.
"The Fire Lord is a man of power. Power is shown by preference of the women," he recited dutifully. He probably heard it a thousand times. "Father says it is a power symbol, having so many women. I have to do my duty every week. Ha!" He laughed suddenly, but there was no humor in it. "Why even have a wife when I have all these women!" He threw his hands up in the air, appealing to the spirits for an answer. None was to be had.
"He knows about you. How you're stubborn and proud," he growls, fingers twitching toward to bottle again. "Told me to," gulp, "bring you to heel. Fuck you into your place." He took another shot from the bottle.
I sit in stunned silence. My little acts of rebellion haven't gone unnoticed, but by whom? Surely not the man before me, so soft and lenient with my wayward self. He sits with his head in his hands now, and I can feel the despair and anxiety rolling off of him.
"He'll know if I don't do it," he muttered. "He has his ways." Looks like neither of us is happy about what is inevitable. That makes me feel a little better, but it's a thin silver lining on an enormous thundercloud.
I touch his arm and my sympathy is not faked. Yes, he sat by and watched the world burn and yes, there were worse things than being forced to fuck a woman, but nurturing is in my blood.
"I understand," I whisper. He looks up at me with anxious eyes and I can't help but wonder if this is a trick. He's luring me into a false comfort. But Suki's and Yue's accounts confirm that he is softer than he appears. I am not sure what to believe.
His unsteady hands pour me a cup of tea, sloshing a little onto the table. An herbal tea to ensure there are no royal "accidents," he explains. The drink is beginning to take its toll on him and he sways where he sits. I wish I could have some liquid courage too, but it cancels out the tea concoction.
Afraid my voice will fail me, I haul him up and help him onto the bed. I have to help him undress, and then it's my turn.
He tries to help but he's mostly just in the way and fondling my breasts. It is strange to be touched this way, but when he runs the pad of his thumb over my nipple it become...intriguing. Maybe this won't be so bad after all.
I gasp involuntarily and I'm only half way out of my breast bindings when he begins licking the same nipple. His tongue is thick with drink but what he lacks in maneuverability he makes up in slow caresses.
This is very distracting and I'm transfixed on him, but his eyes are closed.
Pretending I'm someone else, is my guess, and for some reason it sting. Probably just my pride.
I am bare to my hips now, my skirt still on but he's on top of me anyway. There is no kissing but plenty of nipping at my neck as he grinds his hips into mine. It's not surprising that I'm aroused, I know my body is reacting on instinct, but it is unsettling how foggy my mind is getting.
"You better scream loud enough for them to hear," he advises, pulling at my skirt and making the cloth bite into my skin. I slip off what clothing I have left so he doesn't rip it and I feel shy about being so wholly exposed. I don't move to cover myself, but I have to turn my head as he looks me over. I feel sick with anxious anticipation as he positions himself.
"This is my first time," I blurt out. He's too drunk to remember that tomorrow, or so I hope. He looks at me like he understood my words and he leans over me, guiding himself into me with one hand.
The village women told me that if I relaxed, it wouldn't be so bad. Well I was not relaxed and he couldn't get much in before I was scooting backwards.
"Stop moving so we can finish this," he commands. I knew he was right but it didn't make it any easier. I closed my eyes and tried to relax my body. It was still rough when he entered me, but not as bad as it could've been. He started slow but was pumping his hips in a quick rhythm soon enough. I didn't have to worry about feigning pain.
The friction was the worst part. It didn't help that I tensed up at the stinging pain as he continued.
I was glad when it was over.
I pushed him off of me when he was done and he rolled harmlessly onto the bed. I wanted to strangle him and then myself for being such a fool. This man didn't deserve my sympathy, only a dagger in his skull. I pulled my clothes on angrily while he sat up, lost in his post orgasmic haze.
"Don't you ever touch me again!" I stormed out without being dismissed, and the guards were stony faced as they led me back.
I looked like a raging mess with wild, tangled hair and clothes that were hastily put on. My rage didn't subside until I was safe in the arms of my friends. They understood the painful humiliation and pretended not to notice my tears as we embraced. They were truly the light in this unforgiving darkness.