A/N: In celebration of the resumption of the story with Season 3 finally! I bring you an update unseasonably quickly! I may even manage to update my "Passages" story with a chapter by the season opener on Friday, 9/21!

(But hey, don't count on it since I seem to be terribly unreliable…)

Disclaimer: Perhaps at this point I've changed the characters, etc. enough to be exempt from copyright law… But, since I'm STILL claiming nothing in the way of rights or remedies, I'm sure we don't need to go there…

Chapter 15

In the Capital a well-bred young woman was expected to wake at a reasonable hour in time to achieve a certain level of beauty for her lord and family, as well as provide appropriate direction for the household to prepare for the day and meet the master's needs. In practice, the well-bred young woman ensured her household was served by a competent, discrete (and generally well-compensated) major domo who assured to all but the former requirement. Well, said major-domo also assured that the means to achieving a certain level of beauty – in the way of a hot bath, suitable raiment, dressers, etc. were also available. In short, the more well-off a young woman was monetarily – or even in terms of court connections – the less was actually expected of her in most ways and, consequently, the later she could sleep in.

Given Ty Lee's tendency to indulge in late night escapades, combined with her "temporary" circus residency, she was lucky indeed to have retained her extraordinary allowance. That said, she was quite determined to avail herself of the privileges of her class, no matter what her principal's practices.

There were very few dawns that Ty Lee observed, unless they happened to occur before she'd found her bed.

Ty Lee slept heavily and with profound simplicity. Satisfied with her own place in the world, her dreams were undisturbed by specters of loves lost or opportunities gone begging. Had anyone with the perception to see it been available to comment, they would have admitted that Ty Lee's aura as she slept was as pure and clean as that of a new-born infant.

Of course, few were born who could perceive auras at all, let alone pass judgment on them.

As Ty Lee had exhibited her late night predilections early on in their relationship, Princess Azula only rarely required her presence at breakfast. Again, Azula fully understood that fine instruments required their own special care, and Ty Lee was definitely one of the finest of instruments.

Mai's morning ablutions followed the first stirrings of Princess Azula. Or rather, she awoke to Azula's first stirrings, but did not rise herself unless the pace of the normal routine appeared in any way interrupted. She took inordinate pleasure in staying abed in the wake of others' activity, especially given her own acceptance of her willingness and ability to respond instantaneously to any aberration of routine.

Mai's diaphanous nightwear was exquisite as much for what it concealed as what it revealed. Yes, it showed a generous curve of breast along with fully bared calves, knees and arms up to the elbow. But Mai slept with shoulder holsters fully loaded, and an array of daggers spaced along each thigh, to permit 'careful' sleep. Few well-bred ladies could have claimed such effective protection.

A childhood assumption that the future fire-lord's lady would need to be prepared to protect herself had first inspired Mai, lacking fire-bending but not lacking ambition, to take up her first knife. She had, perhaps, surrendered that initial aspiration, but Mai prided herself on knowing that no one, not her teachers nor even the princess herself, could wield a thrown blade with more precision.

In the half daze between sleep and awakening, Mai curled her toes in the delicious belief that a blade could reach further and with more effect than flame or even lightning, if the defender was focused on fighting the more obvious attacks. She was, of course, wrong in her assessment of lightning's potential. But then, she hadn't been around Azula quite long enough yet to have assimilated that data into her calculations, so Mai rested easy in her own sense of competence.

He wanted to scream at her what a crazy-ass move that had been. He also wanted to clap her on the back in recognition as to how precise her aim had been – aside from the absurd stiffness in his hair follicles following her sudden blast, he was wholly unaffected.

He wanted to pull her aside and discuss indefinitely the potential such a blast could inflict on any array of targets – he wanted to design such an array and record the various permutations of calculated bursts of energy upon them…

As Sokka recovered from his own up close and personal display of Azula's incredible potential for destructive power, his fertile brain instantly sought means of harnessing that power for productive consumption. The apparent obstacles of storage and modulation presented themselves to him first in the obvious question; could such a force ever be harnessed?

Sokka had heard about Azula's power potential. He thought he'd even seen it, that day in the abandoned high desert village where they'd run into Iroh and Zuko in such odd straits.

But until that particular morning, he'd had no real opportunity to assess her abilities beyond the searing blue light that accompanied her attacks on Aang. And that wasn't so much more threatening that anything Zuko had done. Was it?

Sokka forced himself to confront the fears that had eaten away at him in the darkness of his prison cell. Fuck. Azula was to Zuko as Zuko was as to him.

Right. Sooo good for the ego right now.

And somehow, a genuine laugh asserted itself, startling both of them.

Damn! Why didn't I see it before? The answer is to keep the number of variables beyond her management. There's me – I'm one count for Aang. And then there's Zuko – apparently she's not sure how to count for him. His uncle? That guy's some kind of crazy wild card going into the mix, oh yeah! So. Katara and Toph definitely count for Aang as well, and while she may not realize it, they're high-ranking cards. Oh, oh wait! Maybe I haven't been considered as counting for Aang at all – isn't that the point of my 'idiot disguise'?

Sokka swiftly turned the laugh into a fit of hacking, draining coughs. He wanted to keep Azula guessing as far as he was concerned. He focused hard on coughing in a way that shook his whole body, allowing the paroxysms to bring his body to his knees before attempting to raise himself or protest any aid.

Not that any aid was offered.

Azula's eyes narrowed. At first Sokka's response had fit her expectations perfectly. And these paroxysms could still fit a sensitive individual's reaction to a sudden lightning blast. But Sokka had already appeared quite recovered beforehand, and she was ready to swear that the fit had started with a burst of laughter. Now, why would the pathetic, yet way-too-canny, Tribesman have seen something to laugh at in her display of power?

And that was sufficient to make up her mind for her. She was not yet ready to send him back to his cell. But then, nor was she prepared to alter her routine for him.

"Bring him." With that command to his guard, she turned her back to walk up the ramp to the raised dais, seating herself neatly while the low meal table was settled before her.

Moments later a parade of servitors from the galley filled the table with a variety of breakfast fare and a fresh teapot. Sokka was disappointed, but not surprised, to see that his guard did not interpret Azula's command to mean that he was to have a place at that table, stationing him instead just before the dais, where he had made his appearance the day before. This was a form of subtle torture for him, though they probably didn't realize it.

Again Sokka could see and smell the delicacies the Fire Nation saw fit to provide its royalty. His stomach growled hopefully even as his mind attempted to ignore it all.

"I don't suppose you're familiar with the concept of cultural exchange?" he asked, since he could not hope that his stomach grumblings had been unheard. Continuing to bait the princess was certainly risky, especially given what he had just seen, but it seemed a reasonable fit for the persona he had adopted for his interactions with her.

"You call your miserable way of life a culture?" Azula couldn't help herself. Even as she told herself not to respond to his comments she wanted to see how far he would push things. He was either incredibly brave or incredibly fool-hardy, and in either case he astonished her. Surely he didn't doubt her willingness to kill him?

Sokka shrugged. "Whatever. In any case, I've seen the worst of the Fire Nation. So maybe I'm curious to know just how good the best might be. Shouldn't you be best able to show me?"

"Why would I want to?" Now this was interesting. Was he offering to negotiate with her?

"Why else keep me standing here? You still haven't said why you dragged me up here anyway, so what am I to think? Maybe you're bored. I certainly am.…we're both hungry. Since we're at an impasse otherwise, I don't see why we can't both just eat while you tell me what you want with me this morning. Don't you want me to believe in the superiority of the Fire Nation in all things?" He presented this for all the world as if the very idea of a peasant sharing her meal wasn't absurd.

"I'm still waiting for you to tell me why I should care what you think at all." So no, she thought, negotiation wasn't on the table. He did have a point, though. Why had she brought him up from his cell? Because, by observing him directly she hoped to figure him out and, ultimately, force him to concede defeat.

"No. That's no good, Princess. Of course you care. If you didn't - I truly would be dead by now." Sokka smiled that bland, lazy smile that didn't reach his eyes and made Azula so very sure that luck had been very good to her in the attack that left the Tribesman her prisoner. And, since prisoner he was, he could damn well just stand there while she ate, ready to answer her questions as they arose.

"Or perhaps it amuses me to make you squirm before you die. Don't you think I would enjoy watching my enemies suffer?"

Sokka ostentatiously sighed. "I thought we went over all this yesterday. There're all kinds of ways you can cause me pain and humiliation, and I'm supposed to cringe and gulp and go all pale at the thought. I told you. I don't like pain and I don't want to die, but even more - I just plain hate you. So, since you're gonna do whatever you're gonna do to me anyway I see no reason to give you jollies by quaking with fear beforehand. Now, I admit, there's a decent chance that if you make me stand here long enough you'll catch me drooling over the goodies on that table. I s'pose that would give you some satisfaction, but it strikes me as kinda pathetic. But maybe that's another Fire Nation cultural thing I'm too barbaric to appreciate."

He was damned if he would give her any hint as to how much it really bugged him to watch others eat when he couldn't.

Azula brought a savory, doughy dumpling to her lips for a delicate bite before answering. She liked his candor in admitting that her willingness to hurt him for her pleasure was a reality, and that he couldn't avoid it. She also appreciated his assertion that he was determined to deny her as much pleasure from that as possible. She even found refreshing his calm admission that he hated her. And noted the subtle admission that he recognized that at some point his will would eventually succumb.

He was brave, then, but not stupid. The rest of the dumpling returned to the plate and was set aside. She would eat no more of it. Azula lifted the cover off another dish.

"You are presuming, again, as to what I care about. This time you're attempting to shame me out of the pettiness of letting you go hungry while I satisfy myself. That only works if, again, it matters to me what you think of me." Azula smiled sweetly at him as she wafted the flavorful steam rising off this dish towards her nostrils.

"No, Princess. But it does assume I think you care about what you think of yourself. I apologize for presuming too much." Sokka bent slightly from the waist as he spoke in conscious mockery of a bow, but his tone was serious.

With careful deliberation Azula brought another bite to her lips, focusing on the table before her instead of the mouthy boy. She realized that she had given him extraordinary leeway in his insolence to her yet again. And truly, she felt a strong urge to kill him, almost as much to enforce discipline in her crew as to assuage the insult to her pride. But there was something about Sokka that... intrigued her. More importantly, there was something about the odd combination of cleverness and mulish bravado in the face of an apparently hopeless situation that convinced her that he was hiding something from her. Something that was almost certainly important to her and... he knew it.

So she could wait to kill him.

"Your Highness," Mai paused as she stepped out on deck, dutifully nodding her head in obeisance to Azula as she noted Sokka's presence. She had missed all but his last words with her arrival. She had heard the lightning blast as she finished dressing, and had assumed something or someone had annoyed Azula. Obviously, that someone was Sokka.

Mai only wondered why he was still alive.

Much as she hoped he lived long enough to give her another lesson with the boomerang, Mai found herself more curious as to why Azula continued to tolerate him. She found it hard to believe that a mere boy could harbor any secrets worth Azula's time or attention. His value as the Avatar's friend was almost certainly limited to his function as bait. At this point, living bait was no longer necessary. Still, Azula apparently believed he had more to give her. She couldn't imagine that Azula felt any need to bend him to her will; she kept that particular honor to her friends, family, and those whom she believed could further her ambitions.

But then, perhaps Azula believed she could turn Sokka against his own. Mai's lips twitched at the absurdity of the thought. Everyone knew that the Water Tribes were loyal to a fault. Of course, there were always exceptions to every rule. But somehow Mai doubted Sokka could be turned, and doubted even more that Azula seriously entertained any such idea.

Mai settled herself on a cushion and perused the morning's breakfast offerings. In her peripheral vision she saw Sokka standing with his arms folded across his chest, his face turned deliberately away from the dais. Azula was sampling the fare with her usual fastidiousness, nibbling here and there and finishing nothing, the pile of discards steadily growing.

Mai's own style of eating was geared towards efficiency, and she quickly filled a plate with a hearty supply of her favorite dishes. Remembering Ty Lee, she made note of which dishes Azula had already sampled and replaced their covers. Perhaps Ty Lee would notice the difference between a stone-cold dumpling and one that was merely barely warm. Perhaps not. Probably the cook would simply toss the lot back in the steamer or pan or whatever for a quick re-heat to tempt the Lady Ty Lee. Still, Mai saw no point in teasing Sokka with the sight of food he couldn't have.

Although Azula may prefer to consider it an exercise in humiliation. If so, let her say so outright.

"Why Mai," Azula drawled. "The peasant is hungry. You may give him my leftovers, if you wish."

"Ah." Mai forcibly clenched her lips over a moue of distaste. This wasn't the kind of cleanup after Azula she expected, nor did she care for taking an active role in humiliating Sokka this way. She couldn't stop herself from glancing quickly to see his reaction.

To her surprise, one eyebrow rose as his frown relaxed into an easy smile.

"Oh yes," Azula's own gaze returned to Sokka, her smile better characterized as a smirk. "You need to be careful what scraps you feed a dog, but I'm sure a Tribesman won't quibble."

"Why should I?" he returned pleasantly, taking the plate from Mai with a nod and shrugging off the lack of chopsticks. "You've already taste-tested everything for me. I'm sure I couldn't ask for better."

"You've no problem being my dog?" Azula deliberately ignored his jibe as to her testing the food for him.

"Oh Princess, if it means receiving food fresh from your lips I'm sure I feel quite honored." Sokka demonstrated his own ability as to selectively interpretation.

Mai found herself clenching hard this time to suppress a chuckle. She was beginning to suspect that the real reason Azula was keeping Sokka alive was purely to test his wit. He claimed to fear her, but everything out of his mouth was a challenge one way or another. Mai couldn't remember when Azula had ever been confronted so consistently. Even in school the other girls cowered before her, and not just because of her power as a member of the Royal House.

It might actually be that she found Sokka entertaining.

Given the reality that what usually entertained Azula was engaging in various forms of cruelty or exercises that showcased her own talents, it seemed an odd prospect. But then, perhaps she found matching wits with someone so different and so obviously careless of her good will – a novelty in itself – sufficiently unusual as to be entertaining. For now, anyway.

Then Mai found herself astonished for a second time that morning as Ty Lee wandered up to the table. She looked at the position of the sun and again at Ty Lee.

Either the world was coming to an end or the age of miracles had dawned. Ty Lee was up in time for breakfast and Azula apparently found amusement in the conversation of a peasant.