The late afternoon sky is cloudless as Zuko walks around the market square. He observes the civilians at their daily routines; the grocer promoting the various salted meats on display and the low prices he offers, the toy maker's wife, tending her stall and feeding the babe at her breast.
There are children as well. They move about the snow running errands for their mothers and tending to their younger siblings. Life goes on and people live, as best they can. He notes this and smiles a little. The war has touched and ravished this place and torn people from their homes, murdered their precious children, raped their wives and robbed them of everything that is dear...
Yet the human spirit lives. Mothers burry their sons and daughters and weep for them, sorrow filled, yet determined to live. Wives mourn for the husbands that left for the war and never returned. Merchants stomach the bitterness of losing their livelihood to looters and criminals.
Still, all of them remain strong, piecing their lives back together. Zuko wonders if this is the case for all of them, or if the weak ones have already ended. War is an ill thing and sometimes, when he has drunk too much, Zuko wonders why he still allows this horrible abomination to carry on.
It is not my right to stop this war; pain it may cause, but the future of my nation rests in it's hard, cruel hands.
His great grandfather was a strong man and stone-hearted; the same can be said for his grandfather and father before him. This whole terror of a war is robbing the world of its innocence; still, the Fire Nation's eventual victory will be reap unbelievable wealth and greatness for her.
Zuko feels angry. He wants this war to end, but cannot face the shame that would bring to his nation and his family. Not to mention, the countless lives that ended over this century for the 'greater good' would all be sacrificed for naught.
He shakes his head, conflicted about what should rightly come to pass. He walks on, watching how people live their lives. After a while, he finds himself walking toward the brothels. Whores line the street as evening begins its descend and their eyes are lusty and their hands curl around bottles of alcohol. Their lips are ever sweet, whispering seductively to any man who walks by.
They pay more attention to the Fire Nation soldiers than any other, he notices. His men offer good coin for the services, he's heard when at taverns drinking himself to oblivion. They jest how the Earth Kingdom maidens are the wildest in bed, how pretty they are, always eager to touch the muscles of their stomachs and the stiffness of their members.
Zuko has little interest in such talk. Still he is a man grown and he has his urges. His lips have never touched that of any woman since his late girlfriend passed. His hands has not roamed the body or massaged the breast of anyone other than Mai.
He feels himself stiffen as he walks. He is man, flesh and bone and cannot help being tempted to find comfort in a woman's bed, the sweetness of her lips, the soft and lingering caress of her nimble fingers.
He walks on and finds himself at the gate of the brothel that Katara works at. His cheeks are flushed when he spots her kissing an Earth Kingdom merchant in the corner. They seek pleasure here as well, he has discovered and was surprised when he came to know that his soldiers were very eager to share tips with whomever might listen, be him Fire Nation or not.
They are of warring nations, still a man's blood runs red and hot no matter where he is from. And regardless of his nationality, he is first human. The thought that his soldiers and the civilians can coexist peacefully in this part of town of all places is strange, still he is greatful that any kind of peace could exist between them.
Zuko tries to avert his eyes from Katara's exposed breast, as the Earth Kingdom man kisses her and gropes about her, but she catches him looking on and gently nudges the man off of her. The man protests and continues with his touching until Katara forces him away and tells him it is enough; that she will not take his money if he would leave her be.
The man does not take kindly to the protestation and continues taking his pleasure until Zuko yanks him away with a heated hand. He whirls around, yelling profanities until his eyes fall upon Zuko's red scar. The man's bravado falls away as he bows humble and retreats, apologising to the water tribe woman.
"Are you all right, Katara," he asks as he helps her pull her blouse back up so she may cover herself. He notes the trembling of her hand as she pulls her coat about herself tighter. "Shall we go inside?" Zuko suggests and she nods, taking his hand within her own and leading him toward the warmth of the brothel.
The place is unchanged from his last visit, although he notices some girls who are a lot younger than they should be. Disgust fills him.
"They are children," he mumbles in disbelief as he looks upon the fearful faces of the girls, some of whom are below twelve years. "Are they made to perform these lewd acts with those who seek their services?" Zuko cannot help the chill that runs down his spine as he looks upon their childish faces. "They are much too young, this is ill," he says with much anger. Katara only nods sullenly and guides him into her quarters.
"How will you have me?" She asks as she sits him down upon her bed, shutting the door behind her. The room stinks of sweat and semen, the stench quite over powering, although Katara seems to hardly notice it. "I charge sixty coins for a night, it is a better price for you than most, be grateful," she tells him and begins to undress.
Zuko swallows hard as he watches her move under the pale candlelight. The scars on her skin are dark and distinct; burn marks and cut marks most. He wonders what story each hides beneath the redness and blackness of her markings.
He feels his stomach flutter with anticipation as he licks his lips. He wants her, he realises, somewhat embarrassed, conscious about the hardness between his legs.
"Katara," he begins. He aches for her but he will not dishonour her or himself. She is someone's daughter, someone's sister and perhaps even someone's mother. "I..."
"You do not want me? I know Fire Nation men to be lustful and passionate. They like their women well. Do I not interest you?"
"It is dishonourable," he tells her and stands.
"It is not," she objects. "It is natural. Men and women have lain together since dragons and sky bisons flew high above." She pauses and moves toward him, placing her hand on his shoulder. "Stay with me for a night, my lord. It is cold and I am lonely."
Zuko is surprised to see the hunger and longing in her eyes. There is desperation as well and desire, that is plain. She wants me. The thought is queer, but not unpleasant. He imagines himself laying underneath her as she moves over him. He wants to resist her and leave her before he brings dishonour to them both. Alas, he a man and she, a woman, one who plainly wants him in her.
He reminds himself that she is willing and decides now that he is too. Gently, he pulls her into his lap and slides his hand behind her neck. He stares at her and then slowly and gently, lovingly almost, he kisses her.
It doesn't take long for her to strip his clothes off him and for her hand to bring his to the the cavity between her legs. Zuko swallows hard as he strokes her there. She is so wet, he can cannot think of anything more than what should be done at this juncture. He lifts her and places her atop her bed, pausing briefly before he kisses her and moves to thrust inside her. They find comfort and pleasure in each other's embrace as they make love.
The roads are silent at this time of night, with only a few street vendors along the path. Tom-Tom gulps down the fire whisky he won from a fellow soldier and enjoys the warmth that spreads through his chest. The alcohol is a much needed treat on this cold evening as he takes a walk along the chilly streets. He is off duty tonight and Tom-Tom is more than happy with the fact that he can finally rest. The investigation into the murders of several prominent Fire Nation men and women in these parts has taken so much of him.
The bodies that he saw during the past months have been haunting him so persistently that he sometimes wishes to leave the service and return home to his parents; if they would have him. Each body made a gruesome sight, decomposed remains with little flesh upon its bones. The smell from the corpses was most foul, horrible, nauseating and plainly irksome. Still, Zuko had faced each challenge calmly and professionally.
The same cannot be said of Tom-Tom.
The young corporal could never help but take each case to heart, his judgement, according to his superior, was clouded and hindered by his emotions and his anger towards the culprits. He was far too invested in each case.
He drinks some more alcohol and looks up at the moon. He wonders what Tia is doing at this time of night. The young lady is all that makes him happy and the only person that has convinced him that life is still worth living. He sighs a little and pushes his fingers through his hair. He hasn't spoken to Tia for a few days now, although, he still brings her bread and wine, and extra blankets when the air gets too cold.
The damn son-of-a-bitch, Mika is all she thinks about. The thought makes him clench his jaw and fists. Agni doesn't exist, else he wouldn't let this happen, he considers bitterly and contnues on his walk. The alcohol is taking its toll on him. His eyes are red and slightly swollen, his throat burns from the aftertaste of the whiskey and he wonders how long it will take before his senses dull. The lights from the few food stalls he passed along the way are fading and ahead of him is a dark road leading to the industrial park.
The young man squints as he moves deeper into the abandoned area. He doesn't know why he is here, only that he senses something beyond the shadows. He smiles, amused by his folly and turns to leave as the air grows colder.
"Fuck!" He screams suddenly and falls to the ground. What in the hell? he wonders, as his right arm throbs and bleeds. He climbs to his feet and puts his hand up to defend himself but he cannot see. He hears though and there are people around him suddenly. His heart beats wildly in his chest as he tries to make sense of it all.
And then, the dance begins. A blast of blue fire bursts at him. And he jumps back, assuming his own fighting stance, he summons a great ball of flames and forces it towards his opponent. It is in this moment that true horror sets in; and he thinks: I might die tonight. No sooner had the thought settled in his mind that the opponent mounts the attack, leaping into the air and kicking twice, releasing his blue flames and then falling upon his feet, he rolls forward and grabs Tom-Tom's shin, yanking him to the floor.
The man begins to punch him, raining blow after blow, his fists hot upon his skin. Tom-Tom deflects as much of the assault as he can before yanking the stilleto from his arm and thrusting it hard into the other's cheek. The assailant screams.
The corporal rolls free and presses his fingers to his wound, his hand comes away bloody and he lights a fire in his palm, looking around him, he notes that there are two of them; a man, around his own age, and a middle aged, grey-haired woman, her hand covered in blood.
And then, the two are are at him again. Balls of fire come his way and he moves quickly, he spins away and lands upon his buttocks, he grasps the whiskey bottle in his good hand and smashes it upon the woman's head as hard as he can. The bitch shrieks as the whiskey covers her. He breathes a silent apology before setting her ablaze. She struggles and twists and turns and pleads for help while the young man runs away, leaving her to be engulfed in the blaze. Tom-Tom falls upon his knees and shrinks back as he watches the woman die. He cries then, the hot tears streaking down his face as he sends a bolt of light up above, and then twice more; a signal for help.
The woman wails one last cry before she looks upon her killer's face and surrenders to death. The young corporal has never felt worse.
By the time help comes, all that is left of the woman are her charred remains.
Zuko
X
When Tom-Tom was a child, he was intrigued by fire. He would always watch me as I practiced my forms, showing off all that I knew to him and my beloved Mai. They used to enjoy watching me and I Iiked performing for them. Tom-Tom who was a mere toddler at the time used to scream 'boom boom' whenever he saw a particularly large blast of fire.
Mai would laugh and bring him into her embrace as they watched. Afterwards, Tom-Tom would imitate me, clumsily trying to show off moves of his own. Mai cheered all the louder when he did his little dance. She was a different person when it came to her brother. She was nothing like the stern, stoic personality that she embodied in the presence of others; instead, she smiled and laughed easily, often making weird noises to cheer Tom-Tom up.
Those times were the ones that convinced me she would be a great mother. She didn't have the chance to become one, however, as I will no doubt always regret.
The guards outside Tom-Tom's tent at the infirmary are standing at attention as I walk toward them.
"Good afternoon Sir," they say as they thump their staffs on the ground, a salute as they move aside for my entrance.
Tom-Tom is sitting when I enter the tent, eating the light meal the physician has allowed; thin rice porridge favoured with soy sauce. He looks up at me severely. He seems to have aged over the last night, the horror he witnessed the night before will scar him. I just hope he can soon come to terms with what has happened.
"Good afternoon, Sir," he says and sets his spoon down.
"Eat, Corporal," I tell him and take a seat beside his bed. "The woman has yet to be identified. Her corpse was far too charred to see much of her features. The investigators are still looking for answers surrounding the case. Very little has been established so far, but a body was found in one of the nearby warehouses. He was a young man, who was identified as Jun Yan, a Power Corp scholar who was set to succeed his mentor, Zakai, in leading the company.
"They found a handful of small wooden idols at the warehouse as well and the investigators have confirmed that they are Tu Di Zhong related," a heavy sigh escapes my lips. "I know you must feel horrible about what happened; even guilty... but you needed to defend yourself and there was no other option.
"I have given the local temple leave to perform her last rites after the investigation. She deserves that much at least. May her gods judge her justly."
"Yes my lord," he says, pausing. "You are still Fire Lord, Sir... this war needs to stop," he states suddenly, shaking his head. "Too much death. Forgive me, there is too much death."
"My throne is a burden upon my chest; one I am not prepared to reclaim. In time, when these murder mysteries are solves, I will sit the throne again. And I will consider the bloodshed and the lives lost, you have my word. Now rest."
I leave his tent, heavy hearted. I do not know what prompted him to speak about my royal status as Fire Lord, but the reminder is much needed. I may want justice for the murdered, but I must think for the living. It is my burden, and my duty.
A/N: Hi all! I'm back after more than a year. I hope you all have enjoyed this chapter. Thank you for reading.