Chapter 49

Once she had mastered firebending, over a decade ago, Azula had stopped training alongside other firebenders. There was nothing more they could teach her. She was the strongest in her generation, and her youth made her better than most older masters. Though a few–like her late father—equalled her in strength, she was faster, more nimble.

What truly set her apart as a firebending master, though, was her strategic cleverness. She had learned this flexible thinking from training with nonbending masters, like Ty Lee and Mai, learning their techniques and adding them to her arsenal. Ty Lee in particular had been a marvelous sparring partner, teaching her the chi-blocking jabs she had used to disarm the waterbender. Though her friends had betrayed her, the lessons she had learned from training with them made her the unstoppable warrior she was today.

So training with nonbenders was routine for her. There was no reason at all for anyone to be suspicious of the Fire Lord's sudden desire to learn archery.

That's what she told herself anyway, as she approached the training grounds in her tight exercise clothes, her crown left behind in her room. She nervously reminded herself of Naoki's flirting lesson from Ember Island. When she saw that a couple of assistants stood by, and she wouldn't be alone with the captain, she was disappointed.

Raiden began his lesson with a demonstration. He shot arrows at disparately placed targets in rapid succession, several of them moving, and then ran through an obstacle course with his bow, hitting dummies along the way.

It was an impressive display, she couldn't deny it. He moved more quickly and gracefully than she might have guessed a man his size could. Her favorite part was the way his arm muscles bulged when he drew his bow.

When he turned back toward her, out of breath, she stood, clapping politely. "Well done, Raiden. Do you do that all the time, or did you just want to show off for me?" she teased.

The question seemed to embarrass him. Was he blushing? She couldn't tell.

"Well, it's not every day the Fire Lord visits the training grounds," he said sheepishly.

The reminder of her title brought her up short. She shook her head. "I'm not the Fire Lord right now. I'm your student, and you're my teacher. Don't treat me any differently than you would any of your recruits." As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she thought better of them. He wouldn't kiss a recruit.

But he seemed game to play along. "Very well, cadet. Follow me." He led her to a shooting range, where a row of targets–painted cloth stretched over bales of hay– stood in a row fifty feet from a line of standing quivers. There, he did a more focused demonstration, shooting three arrows while narrating all of the body angles that had to align so that his arrow would fly straight.

Then he called her forward to try, handing her the bow that was balanced on the standing quiver.

"This bow is different from yours," she noticed, slightly disappointed that the plain black bow lacked the flashy red stripe that adorned Raiden's slightly larger one.

"Yes. This one is standard issue. Mine can shoot farther. The army doesn't give you one of these beauties until you pass the master bowman certification."

"It must have better aerodynamics," she punned.

When he laughed at her joke, an unexpected pleasure rippled down her spine.

He gestured for her to take her place by a standing quiver, and she assumed the position. He watched carefully as she knocked the arrow and pulled back the string.

"Wait a second." She froze, and he stepped behind her. His fingers pulled her elbow down a bit. She stopped breathing as he adjusted her shoulders. She congratulated herself for thinking of this little activity–the perfect excuse to watch his body in glorious action, and feel his hands on hers.

"Follow the line of sight of the arrow," he gestured with one finger from her eye to the pointed tip." Now inhale," he whispered, calling attention to the fact that she had stopped breathing. "And as you exhale, let go."

She felt him vacate the space behind her, and took another breath to clear her mind of the excitement he had caused. Then she followed his directions, and released.

The arrow sailed through the air, landing in the yellow region in the bottom left quadrant of the target.

"Great shot!" the captain exclaimed.

She frowned at him. "I didn't hit the bullseye."

"That was wonderful for your very first time shooting an arrow. Most new recruits drop the thing and twang their arm, or embed it into the ground."

"Doing better than most recruits is a low bar for me. I'm used to always hitting my target," she declared. Though she knew it sounded arrogant, it was also the simple truth.

"Of course you are," he acknowledged. "But this is a new skill. Give yourself a little grace."

"Can you tell what I did wrong?" she pushed.

"Get ready to shoot again. Show me your stance." She did, lifting the bow. He walked around her, surveying her entire body.

Behind her, he murmured, "Your hips aren't quite square." Then she felt his hands moving her. "Now try again. Lower your chin."

She pulled back another arrow and let it fly. This time it stuck in the top right quadrant of the target, a good three inches closer to the center than the last arrow.

"Better!" Raiden cheered.

"So we just keep doing this?" she wondered. If her teacher weren't so sexy, archery would be incredibly boring.

"Basically, yes. At this stage in your training, the goal isn't to hit the middle every single time, but to gradually increase your accuracy, so that you hit closer to the bullseye more often."

"It's only at your level that an archer expects to strike the target without fail," she praised him, eyes dancing with humor.

He grinned in a confident way that sent heat straight to her core. "Well, I didn't win the Golden Arrow for nothing."

The reminder of that terrifying day turned her serious again. "No, you won it for saving me from an assassin." She reached out and touched his upper arm. "Did I ever thank you properly for that, Raiden?"

He swallowed and blinked rapidly. "It was my duty," he murmured, his whole face reddening.

"You risked your life. It must have taken incredible courage." She seemed to have embarrassed him again, so she dialed it back, dropping her hand. "Anyway, I appreciate it."

The captain nodded, stepped away and focused on the archery practice. "Um, why don't you try again?"

He stood silent as she shot the next three arrows, then gave her a short correction or positive comment for each of the rest, until they were all gone.

"That's the whole quiver." She raised a hand to call a servant to fetch the arrows for her.

Raiden waved the boy away. "You said I should treat you like my recruits," he reminded her. "Recruits fetch their own arrows."

"And how does that make me better at archery?" she challenged. "Wouldn't it be a better use of my time to practice shooting more?"

"Archers are disciplined. They work together, shooting in perfect unison. If they don't all follow orders, the entire unit is endangered."

"But I'm not going to serve in a unit of archers," she pointed out.

He shrugged, unmoved by her protest. "You said you wanted the basic training experience."

She pouted in an exaggerated, feminine way, making her eyes big and moony. "Can't you pull some strings for me, Captain?"

He was about to say no, then realized she was joking, and smiled. "Pull your own strings, my lord." He pointed at the target, and she flounced off to fetch her arrows.

They continued practicing that way for the next hour, until Azula's arms were sore from the repeated motion. At the end of their lesson, he held his hands out to take her equipment. As she handed him her bow, their fingers touched, and she looked up into his face. Had she ever been this close to him? How had she never noticed his spiky eyelashes, or the adorable indentation in his cheek? His lips curved in a confident grin that made her brain fuzzy.

"When you smile—" she began, her voice soft with fascination, even reverence. It made her feel foolish, how helpless she was against the pull he had on her, how unaware of it he was. Abruptly she looked down, stepped back and stammered, "You—your teeth are very white."

Confusion and amusement flashed over the captain's face, as he opened his mouth and blinked. Finally he murmured, "Thank you," then swallowed, straightened his shoulders and directed his gaze to the side, where servants observed them. He put away the bow and started walking towards the palace, recommending various stretches to ease her muscles. She followed, grateful that he didn't call attention to her awkward lapse.

It was time to part, to attend to their separate duties for the day, but first Azula had to make sure she would see him later. "Raiden, will you have dinner with me tonight?" she asked, hoping she didn't sound too plaintive, or too demanding.

"Of course." He gave a small bow, with another of those devastating smiles, and left.

The palace kitchens outdid themselves with dinner that night; the Fire Lord did not often send her chefs compliments or complaints, so when she requested particular dishes they were moved to extra effort. Over noodles and wine, Azula asked Raiden a lot of questions about archery, and boot camp, and other weapons training, flattering him with a few more compliments to his skills. Once, she thought she made him blush again. After eating, they spent a couple of hours reading and writing reports in the library over tea, their silence as companionable as their conversation. At one point, she stretched her legs out, so that her foot touched his, and he didn't move away. At nine, he walked her to her rooms.

As they walked the silent halls to her bedchamber, Azula pushed herself to make conversation, hoping to make up for her gaffe earlier in the day.

"I appreciate your taking the time to give me a lesson this morning," she said, then immediately felt silly. She was pretending she could not command his schedule, but maybe that pretense was necessary. What she had to do was give him a hint of her feelings, to let him know she would welcome his advances. So she added, "I always enjoy our time together."

"As do I," he answered nonchalantly.

She tried not to let the hope that filled her at those words make her too giddy. She had to stay calm. She had planned this moment. Wordlessly requesting another hand kiss was ethically permissible, she had decided. It was different from the kiss she had demanded from Aang because Raiden had already done it twice, and the first time it had been entirely his own idea.

"Good night, Raiden," she told him, holding her hand up, palm down, right under his chin.

His eyes flashed down to her fingers, then up to hers. She saw surprise, anxiety, pleasure, and caution pass over his expressive countenance before he decided.

This kiss had none of the fervor of the first one, but it was also not a perfunctory public show, like the second. The first kiss, she had been too shocked to enjoy, and the second, too self-conscious. Now, his lips were soft, bashful, tentative. Her skin liked the feel of them, warm and cushiony. She hadn't known her knuckles were so sensitive.

After he dropped her fingers, Raiden nodded farewell without lifting his gaze to her, leaving her wondering and pining.

Author's Note: I hope you liked these scenes! Please leave me a review to let me know what you think! I appreciate every one!