A new update, yay, I'm really trying here! I've finally fleshed out the rest of the story and know how it ends! There's some deeply serious drama coming up, so stay tuned. For those of you who have been keeping up with my story, you may recall the ending of this chapter, but for those of you who are new to it, it'll be just as tasty!
This chapter is rated mostly T, with the end in M. Enjoy!
The streets of the city were lit with the warming rays of the bright summer sun, which raised not only the plants from the ground but the friendly spirits of seemingly everyone around her. Merchants smiled as she passed and offered slices of fresh fruits and vegetables. Woman laughed as their children pranced at their feet, waving twigs around in a faux battle of swords. Even Katara felt her mood lift as she marched back to the palace, determination shifting to optimism as the warmth of the celestial being beamed down upon her back. Maybe it is true, she thought to herself, maybe this city really does come alive with the fires of the sun.
Her thoughts were interrupted when a being came hurtling towards her from the left. She had only a moment to react, but she was ready, threading a silvery line of water out of a nearby fountain and towards her attacker. The water wrapped around the palace servant like rope, immobilizing the woman who made a faint squeak of fear and fell into a terrified silence. Her saucer sized eyes were all the reason Katara needed to release the watery grip and let the water splash to the ground. The servant squeaked again, and bowed as low as she could, a mousy voice coming from the bent figure.
"Lady Katara, my deepest apologies! I did not mean to startle you!" Katara watched the woman for a moment and laughed. The servant's head popped up.
"You're sorry? I almost threw you into that tree over there! Forgive me, I suppose I'm still a little paranoid over my recent attack."
The mousy servant smiled timidly and wiped her robes which were still a bit damp. "My lady, my apology stands, but I have been looking for you. Your presence is still requested in Ba Sing Se for the meeting of the delegates in two days." Katara nodded. She had hoped that the recent kidnapping had been sufficient reason to excuse her from the drole bi-monthly meeting, but it appeared to not have been enough.
"I have been enjoying a much needed rest. When must I leave for the conference in order to meet their obligations?" The servant looked down sheepishly.
"Um... Well, My Lady, you should have been there yesterday."
"What? Why?" Sheepish was no longer looking to be the behavior of the servant woman, who had somehow shrunk down in probable terror. Katara hated that behavior and it displeased her that this particular woman, even as a servant, felt the need to belittle herself so much.
"I was told that there were a number of smaller meetings your presence was requested at as well. I know nothing more, My Lady." Katara frowned at the annoyance. "But, My Lady, please come with me. We can have you ready to travel in less than an hour's time. You can be in Ba Sing Se by nightfall."
They walked together, the servant a little more hurriedly than Katara, and were amidst the walls of the palace within ten minutes. In the meantime, Katara had laid her thoughts on the simple annoyances of these mundane 'meetings' the leaders of Ba Sing Se kept asking her to attend. It was one thing to have her meet with a small pride of younger girls who looked up to such a waterbender for guidance and leadership as she felt that was actually making a difference in people's lives. It was the things like officiating the building of a new road, or, blessing a new shopping center, that bothered her so much. These activities were plain and simply meant for someone who was important, but not impossible to get a hold of. AKA, her. Who better to bless the local building of a statue of King Kuei than Lady Katara? Perhaps the moron king himself, she bemused.
But the time spent amusing herself with unlady-like comments was short lived, and she was thrown into a quick paced race to get everything ready for her travel to a city no more than three hours away by air – which sprouted one more unlady-like comment.
The palace was cool and empty, a strange occurrence as normally there was some form of diplomat hurrying about from one hall to another. Her questions about two certain diplomats were met with hasty responses of travel and a desire to be alone and quickly replaced with questions of wardrobe and weapons, things of which Katara simply did not care for. She let the servants take control and allowed herself to be decked in this elegant robe and that fine dress. Her eyes rolled with renewed annoyance, all this fuss for such a short trip, and her gaze settled on her figure in the mirror. The servants were slipping a dress over her, a symphony of pale greens, a wonderful compliment to the Earth Kingdom leaders!, but she focused on the man in the doorway, the deep blue arrow pointing to sparsely veiled eyes of despair and longing.
"Oh, Aang. How long have you...," Katara's eyes fell and her smile disappeared, remembering all that had happened. "How are you?"
He stood in the doorway, shadows playing heavy on his features. The women who had been bustling over the dresses bowed and quickly exited the room out the side door, a quiet gasp then giggle could be heard from the hallway where they had escaped.
"I'm lonely." He moved then, taking slow methodic steps towards the waterbender, matching his steps to his words. "I'm heartbroken. I'm angry. I'm fearful. I'm aroused. I'm possessive. But mostly, I'm betrayed, Katara." He stopped in front of her, their bodies so close she could bat her eyelashes and he'd feel the wind. She drew in an uneasy breath. He watched her lips part and close for the breath before returning his gaze to hers.
"Aang...," she whispered. She bit her lip, unsure of herself. His eyes hardened as he stared back at her, but even in all his state, Katara knew she must open up to him. No easy task in her mind.
"Aang... I'm not going to ask for your forgiveness. I don't deserve it. I-"
"Well you've got that damn right." His clipped and humorless snort cut through her like butter.
"What is that supposed to mean?" She shot back, defensively.
"What do you think it means? You don't deserve my forgiveness."
"I'm aware of that. That's why I said it. There was more I was going to say, but of course you don't have time for the rest of it, just like you don't have time for me!"
"Time for you?! All I ever do is things to ensure there is time for you. Don't you try and wave the 'woe is me' card." Their voices raised with each anger laced comment until they were shouting.
"Oh yes, because the three trips to Kyoshi Island in the past two months were totally necessary!"
"Are you saying I'm taking trips there to be with the warriors who all want to be my wife? Oh yes, that's definitely what I'm doing, isn't it? Is that what you think, Katara?! Well at least I'd have the common courtesy to take it OUTSIDE THE PALACE WALLS."
"HOW DARE YOU. I DID NOT LIE WITH HIM TO MAKE YOU JEALOUS, IT WAS A MOMENT OF WEAKNESS, BROUGHT ON BY YOUR INHERENT LACK OF INTEREST IN ME FOR THE PAST TWO YEARS."
"MY LACK OF INTEREST?! OH, THAT'S RICH. AT LEAST I'M TRYING TO BUILD YOU A BETTER WORLD, KATARA. AT LEAST I'M TRYING TO MAKE LIFE BETTER FOR YOU."
"BECAUSE BETTER MEANS ABANDONING ME TO BE KIDNAPPED AND RAPED, RIGHT? AT LEAST ZUKO CARES MORE THAN THAT."
"Zuko cares more, huh?" Aang suddenly lowered his voice and moved as close as he could to her, their bodies touching. He lowered his head until their lips were nearly together. He spoke again as he ran a finger down her neck and collarbone and through the upper cleft of her breasts, stopping only where the fabric of the gown she had on started.
"I bet Zuko can't do this to you." Her breath hitched and he smiled faintly, but a veiled expression blanketed the smile just as quickly as it had appeared. There was silence for a second.
"Why are you dressed like this. This dress is torture for me."
It was her turn to smile faintly, and look down. "I have to be in Ba Sing Se for a conference. I was supposed to be there yesterday, actually."
"Why the dress, though? Another useless ball?" He admired the fabric and made a mental note to have her keep this dress.
He always remembered how silly she thought these 'meetings' were and it warmed her heart for a moment remembering that now. "Yes. Honestly, I'm quite done with this visits."
"Stay with me tonight. We need to... have a chat."
She looked up at him again, worried. "Have a chat? Like this last one? I won't be staying for that."
"I wasn't asking." His tone was clipped and his eyes barely held back the fire. She nodded slowly. "Ba Sing Se can wait for one more night."
There was a knock on the door behind them, and, as if they had been listening, one of the women servants popped her head through the doorway and asked if Katara was ready to continue her packing.
"Oh, Basra, no, I'll be leaving in the morning. Can you please send someone with a message to King Kuei telling him that I've been unavoidably held up for one further day with my apologies? Thank you."
The servant inclined her head with a quiet grin and left the room.
It was later in the evening, after a much needed but still pained talk that Katara finally settled on the bed. Her hair pooled in swirls of mocha brown, coating the sheets like a fine dusting of cocoa powder. The soft candlelight danced along the walls as Aang's hands slowly made their way across her skin. They were rough from years of abuse, but her skin prickled at their graces, rising and falling with each breathe as his fingertips sought out every knot they could find. She lay on her stomach, her head cushioned by her arms, and she purred with pleasure every time those rough fingertips worked through another knot in her back. He kneaded her like bread dough, pulling and spreading, working his pent up emotions into her back and smothering them in each firm press of his hands. He was tired; tired of all the events that had unfolded, tired of diplomatic solutions, tired of negotiations. She was his, and he would claim her as his own, and defend that with force if need be. His thoughts lingered on the fury, but her soft mews brought him back to his sensuous task at hand.
He kneaded and spread, angrily wishing he could just flip her over and take her as hard as she'd let him, but he knew that wouldn't help anything along. It was dangerous ground he was on, and he knew that if things went pear-shaped, the ground could just as soon melt away without warning and leave him helpless. So he wrung his tension into her soft skin, folding the anxiety away and trying to bring as much peace to himself as possible.
The light in the room dimmed and his concentration broke temporarily as he looked up to find that the soft breezes of the evening had extinguished one of the candles surrounding the bed. A spark flew through the night and the candle's wick burst into flame, joining its twinkling brethren once more. He smiled briefly at his good work and looked down, seeing her cool blue eyes held fast on him. His smile vanished as the light played shadows across her bare breasts and he wondered softly how she could had flipped herself without his knowledge. His gaze drank in the sun darkened skin, the soft curves of her hips as they disappeared under the soft fabric of the green dress.
He felt her move an exposed calf across his, and she bit her lip lightly as she stared at him. She was offering herself to him, what an acrid, ironic sentiment. But she also offered embarrassment, he could see it in her eyes, perhaps as a subtile further amends for all that had transpired recently. He closed his eyes and grimaced slightly, remembering that the events that had catapulted them all into this situation had not been her fault. He couldn't seriously blame her for being kidnapped. Of course, she didn't need to be a little minx afterwards, either. But when he peered down at her again, he lost his thoughts of frustration in her somber expression, and he fought back the strong urge to caress her face in comfort.
Instead, he lingered over her, moving to trap her body underneath his, her lithe hands reaching up to his sides as he steadied his weight on his extended arms. Her brow furrowed, the dark storm clouds of doubt once again reaching into her soul and stirring up feelings she had tried so hard to bury. Swiftly his mouth descended, capping the emotions and setting them ablaze as was his habit. Her head swirled with confusion and lust and she found herself whining quietly in titillation. Their mouths fused over and over again, and the hunger grew once more between them. His shaft throbbed on her belly and she moved to try and grasp it, her fingertips barely touching the source of intense heat before he descended to her neck and down her body, sprinkling feverish kisses everywhere he went. He lingered on her breasts, suckling and nibbling on the most sensitive spots, his breath hot against her skin. An urgency rushed through him, and he held the lower half of her body up so he could whisk away her dress as fast as he could. There would be time later, time to enjoy each other's bodies, time to push himself into her tight channel as far as he could go, but not tonight. Tonight was about dominance. He needed to claim her and to drive the thought of any other man out of her head forever. Tonight, she needed to be his and he needed to be sure.
He was quite a sight; the flames of passion burning in his eyes, his rock solid cock standing ready. But when he approached the bed it was in languid movements; every touch purposeful, every kiss deliberate. He spread her legs, exposing her moist center like a delicate pressed flower between the pages of a book. His fingers traced downwards and mingled below the dark patch of hair, his eyes never leaving hers as he lowered his body, kneeling and inclined his head towards her wet folds, tasting the bounty in front of him. His fingers slipped into her as his tongue danced along her most sensitive spot, and she marveled at his commitment to her pleasure. Her body ached with need and she felt her own hands aimlessly grabbing at her breasts, fingers digging into her skin in an attempt to release the pent up emotions. His mouth was a torment, one hand on her ass, pressing her against his tongue, the other violently thrusting two fingers inside her, trapping her in a whirlwind of glorious euphoria. There was nothing to do but writhe in torment and ecstasy until the pinnacle of pleasure fogged her vision and left her gasping for air, her voice raspy from her desperate calls for more.
