Zuko awoke to yet another day of headaches and nausea the next morning, the throbbing only intensified by the aching of the rest of his body. The dawning sun bleeding into his room was too bright for his overly sensitive eyes, the soft breaths of the woman next to him too loud.

Moving slowly, he untangled himself from the arm wrapped around his waist and sat up with a pained groan, rubbing his temples to relieve his migraine, his stomach a roiling mess. He stayed like that for a good minute, rethinking his life choices, before quietly scooching across the bed that was wide enough to accommodate a group of people lying side by side. Shutting his eyes, he swung his legs over the bed and buried his head in his hands, bracing his elbows on his thighs as he bent over, fighting nausea.

Maybe he should've listened to Mai about drinking too much.

Just thinking of his former girlfriend had his stomach churning even more wildly. The guilt set deep into Zuko's bones, finding a cozy home right beside the guilt of all the things he did in Ba Sing Se.

His thoughts were cut short, much to his gratitude, when he heard stirring behind him, then the shuffling of the bedsheets, approaching where he sat. Two arms looped around his torso and the weight of a head rested on his shoulder.

"Good morning, my dragon," Shila murmured into his neck, sleepily rubbing her cheek against his shirt. "Did you sleep well?"

Zuko didn't respond, mostly because he was afraid the bile in his throat would pour forth if he dared open his mouth, but also because he'd spent enough time around Azula to recognize blatant manipulation when he saw one, even in an intoxicated state like last night. He was no idiot—he hadn't missed how she'd seduced him to get herself to be a Favorite. He'd seen the flame flickering behind her eyes, a fire that burned with an unbridled lust for power—his power that came with being royalty. In more ways than one, she embodied all of Fire Nation nobility—seemingly perfect on the outside, rotten to the core within.

In the absence of a response, Shila lifted her head and her hands glided up his back to massage his shoulders. Her bare breasts pressed against the back of his shirt.

"You seem worked up, my dragon," she purred. With one hand, she continued massaging him—and with the other, she slowly began venturing down the front of his shirt toward his loincloth. Then she brought her lips to his undamaged ear. "Perhaps I can be of assistance."

Zuko grabbed her wrists before she could get too far. He stood up, cautious not to move too quickly to avoid puking his guts out, and turned partially in her direction, keeping his eyes on the floor.

"I should go."

He'd made sure to keep his voice level, to not come off as too stern but not too soft either, but he still must've flustered her, as she visibly tensed, her hands hung in the air.

"Oh, uh… Did I do something wrong? I thought you might've liked it."

"No, no, I just… need to get ready for the day. That's all." Feeling a tinge of guilt at her nervousness, he quickly added, "You can stay here as long as you like."

"Is… that allowed?"

"It is if I say it is."

Zuko felt the tension in the air ebb. Shila rose to her knees and cupped his face to turn his head toward her.

"You really enjoyed me last night," she said, her brown eyes bleeding into his. "So you'll be summoning me again tonight, yes?" It was more of a demand than a question.

He recognized this too—the tone, the wording, how she'd calculated every minute detail so he couldn't turn her down without seeming like a complete asshole. No wonder Azula had liked her.

Yet, the thing was, he had enjoyed her company. He wasn't sure if it was the fact that she'd gotten his mind off of his uncle and the Water Tribe girl and Mai, or that she'd let him unleash himself onto her without judging or being visibly bored. He didn't care that she might have faked her responses to his touches, that she might not have moaned had he not been the heir apparent to the throne—it'd felt just good to get validation out of his partner in bed for once, artificial or not.

Zuko tore his eyes away from Shila's and gave her a tight nod. It'd felt good to know he wasn't a complete failure in bed like he was with everything else. And he wanted more of it. Agni knew he wanted it—wanted to receive any affection at all, even if it was out of greed.

And Shila knew it too. She'd wrapped her arms around him while he'd thrusted into her, hugged him while he was recovering after their latest session, whispered sweet nothings in his ear while he was drifting off to sleep... And Zuko hated it—hated that he was so desperate for love that he'd fallen right into her grip.

Her bruised lips tugged into a smirk and she leaned in for a kiss, but Zuko stepped out of her reach and began walking to the bathroom adjacent to his bedchambers, fed up with her games.

He was at the threshold of the bathroom when she called for him with a honey-coated voice, "I'll see you tonight, my dragon."

Zuko shut the door in her face.

-o-

By the time noon had arrived, Katara had been scrubbing the floors for hours. She could feel her knees bruising under her weight as she knelt on all fours and scrubbed and scrubbed until her hands almost fell off. The base of her spine—as well as the rest of her back and body—was burning, thanks to staying in the same position for so long. At least she'd thought to braid her horrifically matted hair before starting and now had one less problem to deal with.

Dunking the large brush in her hand into the bucket Ayuki had thrown into her arms, she wiped at one particularly stubborn stain on the marble floors of the communal harem quarters.

She'd missed the full moon a few nights ago, during one of her late-night shifts helping out with doing the entire harem's laundry. She had seen the moon glow magnificently outside the barred windows, but she hadn't felt it. She hadn't felt that surge of overwhelming power course through her veins as the moon rose higher in the sky.

Even when she'd been barely able to bend a bubble of water, that power had kept her awake at night. It had kept her going through thick and thin, through her mother's death and her father leaving to fight in the war—through being ripped away from her newfound family, and the incessant nightmares of the Dai Li agents she'd killed and the one that smirked under his helmet.

Now that power lay dormant within her. In its place was a vacant emptiness that only existed to remind her of her mistakes and suffering.

"She's back!" Katara heard one girl suddenly shriek.

All the concubines that were lazing about at the divans by the walls whipped their heads toward the harem doors. Following their gaze, Katara also took a look—to find Shila strutting into the hall through the gigantic set of doors, beaming with happiness. Some of the concubines jumped to their feet and rushed over to her, lifting the skirts of their exquisite robes so that they didn't trip over them.

The women Katara had seen sitting with her reached Shila first. "Spill everything. Now," one of them demanded while the rest caught up and gathered around Shila in a circle.

"My, my… I didn't know you all loved me so much, girls," she jested.

Although they stood some distance away, Katara could still hear them clearly. And maybe it was better that they didn't bother to speak quietly. Shila had spent the night with that traitor prince—she could let slip vital information about him—any injuries or weaknesses nobody but one who had seen the whole of him would know—that Katara could then use against him when the time came.

"What was he like?" one girl asked while another added, "Is it true that he has a scar on his face?"

"Well, yes, he does have a scar—but he's actually rather handsome if you can look past it," Shila answered, then sighed deeply, dreamily. "You know, he was waiting for me with a rose in his hand when I got to his room. And there were rose petals on his bed and candles on the floor. He kissed my hand and carried me to his bed in his arms. It was so romantic."

The girls cooed over her sentiments while the waterbender rolled her eyes, continuing to scrub the floor.

The other one of Shila's friends asked, "How did you even get the Princess to choose you out of everyone else? I mean, don't get me wrong—I'm glad that you're a Favorite now—but I didn't think it'd actually happen."

Katara practically felt Shila shrugging. "A magician never reveals her secrets."

"Alright, ladies," a maid interrupted, entering the harem through the same doors Shila had come in through. "Give our newest Favorite some space. She's had a long night."

Finally having removed the stain on the ground, Katara stood up sorely. Every last bit of her body ached as she moved on to the next patch of dirty floor. Her eyes flit up momentarily to see the maid handing a small porcelain cup over to Shila—contraceptive tea, she guessed. Katara looked back down at the ground that needed the cleaning, and hissed when her bruised knees made contact with the hard marble. Her fingertips stung as she grabbed the brush and got to work.

"Your new chambers in the Favorites' suites are all ready," the maid said once Shila had drunk the tea and handed the cup back. "Your possessions have already been moved and your lady-in-waiting is waiting for you there. Enjoy your new life."

"About that…" Shila mused, "Is it possible for me to pick my lady-in-waiting for myself instead?"

The maid made a soft sound that affirmed her right to choose .

"Wonderful." There was mischief in her voice. "In that case, I… choose… her."

The harem fell silent, save for the quiet murmurings of the concubines still seated on the divans and the sounds of other slaves drudging away. Katara felt the attention of the group shift to her. Reluctantly, she lifted her head, and everyone was looking at her—Shila, especially, sneering delightfully, her eyes ablaze with spite.

The maid's lips curled upward as she glanced at Ayuki over Katara's kneeling form. "Will that be a problem?"

Ayuki snorted wryly from behind the waterbender. "Agni, no. I'll pay you money to get her out of my charge."

"Very well, then." The maid turned to Shila. "The savage is yours. Just be careful she doesn't eat you in your sleep."

Shila snickered and showed her perfect white teeth to the waterbender. "Oh, don't you worry. I'll be extra careful with her." Her smirk widened as she jerked her chin in Katara's direction. "Come on, Mikai, lighten up a little. I just gave you a promotion! You should be down on your knees, kissing my shoes! Though… I suppose you have the first part down already."

Everyone around her cackled as Katara's eyes narrowed and her grip on the brush tightened, struggling to resist the urge to throw it at Shila's head.

'Don't, Katara,' her inner voice cautioned, 'You have only two weeks left until the invasion. Don't do it. Don't mess this up. It's not worth it.'

Begrudgingly, she let her grip slacken and lessened the intensity of her glare.

"Let's go," Shila said, still chuckling, and nodded toward the stairs at the corner of the hall that led to the second floor of the harem, devoted specifically to Favorites.

Katara straightened in her place and got to her feet. She picked up the bucket and handed it over to Ayuki along with the brush, then followed the maid, Shila, and her closest friends up the stairs. They crossed paths with several concubines on the way—some of them full-grown adults, some younger than Toph—and passed numerous wooden doors on both sides of the broad hallway, all of them beautifully carved with illustrations of dragons and flames, and stopped before one of them down the hall.

Shila's suite was a set of lavish and spacious bed and private bathing chambers worthy of a royal mistress. It seemed Katara, despite just having been 'promoted', would have to continue sleeping in the communal sleeping quarters with the other slaves, on her ragged, makeshift bed and her pillow that was so hard it might as well be a rock.

"If you're done gawking at my splendor, vermin, go run me a bath," Shila ordered, walking merrily toward her bed. "And you two," she addressed her friends over her shoulder, "pour me some wine and bring me the chest that has my most beautiful robes in it. His Highness has summoned me again for tonight. I will look my best for him."

Katara curtsied and carried out the orders of her new mistress, biting her tongue and imagining all the ways she'd get her sweet, sweet revenge one day.

-o-

The stillness in the hallway was almost unbearable. The royal guards stationed at the feet of the doors, faces hidden underneath their spiky helmets, hadn't moved a muscle since Katara had arrived here yesterday evening—where she'd been standing outside that traitor prince's bedroom, keeping her head low and waiting for her mistress without complaint, being the proper handmaiden that was demanded of her. The eunuch escort of the concubines, whose skin complexion was as dark and eyes blue as Katara's—undoubtedly a Water Tribe slave like her—was leaning against the wall beside her, occasionally fidgeting, clearly as bored as she was.

But boredom was the last thing on Katara's mind at the moment.

There'd been a time when she'd thought she'd already been to the hells of the Spirit World and back, that nothing she'd witness henceforth could ever compare to the horrors she'd been through. What a fool she'd been.

It wasn't the blisters that had sprouted all over her feet over the past months, courtesy of her too-small slippers, that made her sick, though. And it wasn't the aching on her back and arms, or her dire hunger, thirst, or exhaustion either. No, these she could endure, no matter how arduous—but the sounds coming from behind the closed doors of the bedroom…

The starvation, drudgery, and even having needles shoved into her fingers paled in comparison to having to listen to the moans, creaking of the bed frame, and all the other noises coming from the other side of the doors. And the absolute worst, she could hear the masculine grunts and groans fused with Shila's moans as well.

That was the real torture, and Katara could've ripped her ears right out of her head just to make it stop.

So she was eternally grateful when the screaming finally died out well into the night, and after a few hours of silence, the doors opened at last—by which time servants had lined up behind her in the hallway, also waiting for their master. Suppressing a sigh of relief, Katara waited some more for her mistress to step out of the room and be done with it all. She was already daydreaming about throwing herself onto her makeshift bed, which she doubted was more comfortable than the marble beneath her slippers, but she truly didn't care.

Her short-lived happiness soured in her mouth, however, as seconds passed and still Shila hadn't come out. Just as in the harem yesterday, she could feel eyes on her, blazing into her skin and clothes almost. Brows furrowing in confusion, she raised her gaze little by little and looked up at the doors—

Only to be met with two wide, golden eyes and a scar staring right back at her.

A/N

Ladies and gentlemen and the gays and theys, buckle up. Shit's about to get real.