Playing the Part

Getting out of the town had been quite the ordeal. Not another violent confrontation; these Earth Kingdom peasants knew better than to chance that twice. But the stares. All at Arhedain, of course. He couldn't stumble down the stairs at the inn and tiredly order a breakfast of eggs without a dozen eyes falling upon him in that mix of fear and loathing that Azula usually supped upon and delighted in.

Strange were the days when she was met with pitying looks instead of fear and devotion. It was cloying and degrading, and she wished to burn the eyes out of every man and woman who dared to look upon her: Princess Azula of the Fire Nation and heir to the throne of all beneath the Heavens. But she held herself back. A Princess faces all tribulations with grace and resolve, and she can command both in infinite supply.

Once they had finished breaking their fast, they were eager to be on the road again. They didn't chance the local butcher shop, not wanting another confrontation, so they were back on the road as quickly as possible.

Once out of sight of town, Arhedain wordlessly dropped from his horse and undid the rope around her wrists. When done, Arhedain waited.

Neither spoke for nearly a minute before Azula realised she probably would have to be the one to do so- Princess, and all.

"Your ruse worked, Sir Gaelon. And you performed your role admirably without, as the Ember Island Players might insist upon, 'method acting'," Azula said eventually. "So no, if you are waiting to be burned alive, it shall not be today."

"I am gladdened to hear that, Your Majesty. That was, however, only one town. There will be others. There will be others on the road back to the coast. Are you prepared to perform that 'ruse' again?" Arhedain asked carefully.

It was clear that some small part of the savage enjoyed this performance. As restrained and housebroken as Arhedain might be, he was still a savage and a man. He could no doubt barely restrain himself from his lustful thoughts and wandering eyes, and she was a spectacular figure to look upon. Strong, lithe, well-endowed with sharp golden eyes and long raven black hair. Even in these rags, little better than a street beggar, she was the perfect form all women of the world could compare themselves to and weep at their failure to reach her heights. She was perfection, and perfection oft brought desire.

No, she had observed through half-closed eyes throughout the night his glances at her body splayed out upon the bed, watching her toss and sleep. She had promised to burn him for enjoying this, but he had restrained himself admirably enough, and killing him would not bring her pleasure. Which was a rare thing to say, for she did enjoy the act of killing, whether foe or incompetent. Arhedain wasn't incompetent- Lustful, eager, a barbarian held back only by intense meditation from ravaging her, perhaps, but he was competent.

And she had always enjoyed deception —ruses, disguises, trickery, and deceit. Other than righteous fury and wielding her perfect blue flames, there were few things more invigorating than deception. She had also enjoyed the role she played.

...Purely for its ingenuity and for its success. She held no thoughts about what if it were true, what if she was indeed the prize of war of a man like Arhedain. Tall, fair-haired, strong and smart, a barbarian restrained. She had paid no thought to what he might have done to her if the deception was true. How he would've **** her into the mattress, face down, her perfect ass in the air, and taken her from behind with no accounting for her enjoyment. Not that he would've had to, for this weaker, untrained version of her would've been wholly unable to resist the power of Arhedain, eventually no longer requiring his silent command to pleasure him, to take him into her mouth.

No, there were no such idle wonderings. Azula placed her hand against her hip, her fingers tapping at her centre.

"Perhaps we should be ready with the bindings. At any moment, we might cross paths with someone on the road," She said.

Arhedain nodded, taking her at her word, as he should, and when the two of them clambered back onto his horse, Favour, he did so with the circle of rope ready at his hip. Azula stared at it in a sort of fascination.

To distract herself, once Arhedain spurred his horse on and they started riding through the muddy roads of the southwestern former Earth Kingdom, she wondered how Arhedain might do in a fight against her.

She could, of course, kill him instantly with lightning. Metal armour would make that task all the easier. But what if she couldn't wield it and had only fire?

He knew how to fight firebenders. Charge through their flames, ignore the pain, momentum and strength. He would act to close the distance as quickly as possible. Azula knew herself to be agile, but what if there were obstacles in the way? Dodging both them and Arhedain's sword would prove challenging. Her fire burned hotter than anyone else, but Arhedain clearly knew pain well. His skin might boil, his eyes burn, but he could reach her. The sword was too clumsy an instrument in such confined quarters; he would smack her with the pommel of that greatsword, disorienting her. Then, he grabs her with his larger hands and restrains her. He would have to gag her, too, to prevent her from inhaling air and exhaling fire. But how? His hands were crushing hers; he would have to use his mouth to...

Azula recognised she was in some foul mood and endeavoured to focus her thoughts on more practical, less fanciful things. Like the long journey ahead. Trying her best to ignore the body of the man she was sitting behind on this horse.

For two days, they rode. The first night, they slept in the burnt ruins of a town, one that had put up too much resistance to the Fire Nation. Arhedain had a sorrowful look he failed to hide when he looked at the carcass of the place. Doubtlessly, he was loyal to the money the Fire Nation supplied him, and Azula knew this was hardly the first destroyed town he had seen, having probably burnt countless others himself, but it was proof he wasn't quite like her.

He didn't know that if someone from her nation ordered this town's destruction, then it needed destruction. He probably toyed with the idea of a conscience and pondered on what happened to its inhabitants. Dead or moved on to a Fire Nation colony, no doubt.

But even having such qualms play out on his face, he said nothing of the sort to her. She questioned him about his home, and he told her of the town he grew up in: A provincial, dirty place by all accounts. Men and women throwing their waste out of second-story windows onto the streets below. Growing up watching the shining knights of his lord march off to war or fight in these false battles, "tourneys", that had so entranced him as a youth.

He was a dreamer; that much was clear. He lamented the station he was born into and desired more. But rather than apply himself in school, an institution his homeland apparently didn't have, he lied. He joined a raiding party, stole a suit of armour and a weapon from a slain knight, and pretended he was Sir Arhedain Gaelon.

If he had been born into the Fire Nation, he could've gone to school, learned strategy and culture and honour, and then applied for the military. Sure, as a non-bender, he would have to distinguish himself greatly to gain rank and recognition, but he was more than capable of that. Azula tried to imagine him as a man of the Fire Nation, but her mind didn't want to, didn't allow her to, imagine him with dark hair and a smaller build and amber, narrow eyes.

When they awoke, they carried on down the old muddy road. It was around noon when they reached a crossroads and found a carriage turning to join them on their path.

It was nearly 30 feet long and pulled by six ostrich-horses. A strange mix of modern and ancient, the carriage itself was made of opulent black wood, gilded with red gold shaped like flowing flames, crested with a gold dragon on the top. But beneath, it had a working metal suspension, and atop the carriage, four firebenders sat waiting, watching the two of them with bated breath. The driver spurred the ostrich-horses along. Azula could hear Arhedain preparing to spur Favour on ahead, easily able to outride the massive carriage, but then a window opened.

"What glad tidings," A handsome woman said, resting her head on her hands against the windowsill and staring at Arhedain. She was obviously of the fire nation, with black hair and golden eyes. Her face was rounder than Azula's, a little chubbier. She wore golden and tourmaline earrings, and the Princess could smell the perfume wafting off of her from here. "Another soldier of the fire nation. I had heard men such as you were in the area, but I did not dare hope to find one."

Arhedain **** himself to smile at such an insipid statement.

"Good morrow, my lady," Arhedain replied, Azula knowing he was forcing himself to be so polite and to keep Favour riding alongside the slow, cumbersome carriage.

"I see you've been successful in battle," The Lady said, nodding towards Azula. She was perhaps twenty-five, older than her but young enough that the two of them may have been in the Royal Academy for Girls at the same time, but Azula did not think this lady recognised her. "No such luck for me, I'm afraid. My husband continues to focus entirely on his colonial administration and leaves me bored and restless."

Arhedain looked to Azula, then back to the lady. She sat up straighter, her black and gold dress showing off her ample cleavage. Azula knew her own were perkier.

"I was allowed leave. Apologies, my Lady, but the Fire Nation calls to me."

The Lady clapped her hands.

"Oh, what fun! I, too, mean to return to the homeland. Would you like to join me in this carriage for the journey? You might bring your lucky capture, too, if you so wish. I know how you savages get about your prizes of war."

Arhedain shared a look with Azula. They could hardly turn it down; it was true. And the carriage did look almost suitable for a princess. But she couldn't reveal that she was the Princess of the Fire Nation, in case this woman was working for these "foes" of her father. Almost imperceptibly, Azula nodded.

"Thank you, my Lady, for your generosity. I am Sir Arhedain Gaelon of the Shattered Stars," Arhedain said. He placed his hand on Azula's thigh. "This is Song."

"Well met, Sir Gaelon, Song. I am Lady Kori-Ran nee Jian," The Lady said, opening the door to the carriage. Arhedain prodded Azula in the back, just to look the part she hoped, and she followed his command to climb into the carriage. After she was inside, Arhedain pulled Favour closer to the carriage and tied her to it before deftly climbing inside himself.

Inside, it was surprisingly spacious, nearly the size of a decent enough chamber in the royal palace. Incense burners hung from the ceiling, but the room was lit only by a single lantern, leaving it dark. Only a single maidservant sat patiently waiting on her knees for her mistress' command. There was a single bed of fine red silk and fox furs, a table with plentiful drink resting atop it, and seats for at least six people. Lady Kori was alone bar the servant, however. Gaelon took one of the seats. Azula sat beside Arhedain on her knees, doing her best to look downtrodden.

"So, what brings on your return to my homeland?" Lady Kori asked. It was a peculiar feeling for Azula. In the presence of anyone in the Fire Nation, she was the centre of attention. People would cut off a limb to be seen with her, to be a part of her household or entourage. Even her maidservants were of noble stock. She was the Princess and heir to the throne, and everyone knew it.

But here she wasn't. She was Song, a name that Arhedain had pulled out of nowhere, and was just a prize of war. Perhaps with a look that betrayed a certain amount of fire nation heritage, her narrow gold eyes and black hair, but still nothing better than an object.

But to be supplanted in importance and curiosity by a mercenary was even stranger. Lady Kori looked positively enraptured to listen to Arhedain's reply. She was looking him up and down, even in his frankly boring clothes- A blue wool top and black leather trousers, with riding boots. Hardly worth wearing inside the capital at all, never mind in the presence of fire nation nobility.

"My tour is done. With eight months of service in this campaign, I was allowed a month's leave. It has been some time since I've enjoyed leave in the Fire Nation, not since our kind arrived in this land. I aim to enjoy it," Arhedain replied with an easy smile, his hand resting on Azula's shoulder. She hid her murderous glare by looking down at the floor, restraining herself from burning this carriage down.

"I'm sure you'll enjoy the delights of the capital or the Ember Isles. I must return to my parent's estate on Dizin Island. They are expecting me to be burdened with a child at long last," Lady Kori explained with a sigh.

Azula blinked while Arhedain raised a confused eyebrow.

"Oh, why is that?" Arhedain asked carefully.

Kori laughed.

"Oh, well, my earlier dalliances saw me married off to a much older man. A colonial administrator in the Earth Kingdom. Not even noble blood, just a man who scored high enough in some exam thirty years ago to be given a province. My family has gone through a... Hmm... financial rough spot and such a marriage not only gave him a chance to have noble children but gave my parents some much-needed money."

Neither Arhedain nor Azula were strangers to the concept of arranged marriages. Arhedain had been in the noble courts and had seen countless young girls married off for the interests of their fathers. Azula knew she would eventually be expected to marry some noble of her father's and continue the royal line. To marry a mere colonial administrator, even one with his own province would be a gross insult to her. She would demand nothing less than the finest breeding for a husband. And, of course, powerful firebending blood to ensure that her own children might reach her own prodigious skill.

"I see. Well, congratulations," Arhedain said eventually, nodding towards her belly. Crass, Azula thought, but how else was he supposed to respond to such strange explanations?

Kori laughed again.

"Oh, hardly. My dear husband has not touched me in months. Far too interested in his sums and crop yields than his own supple, young wife. Not that I would not allow it, even should he summon the courage to ask. A weak, pathetic old man with a weak seed and no spine."

Azula tried to keep her head down to furrow her brow in confusion once more, but she met Arhedain's equally perplexed gaze. Silently, they spoke.

Why in the spirit's name is she telling us this? His blue eyes seemed to ask.

She's a harlot, even in those fine clothes, Azula mentally replied.

"I'm sorry to hear that," Arhedain replied. He could not help but add, "How do you intend to lie to your parents that you're pregnant?"

Kori smiled impishly, her eyes narrowing on Arhedain slightly.

"Well, I'll find a way," She said sultrily.

The hair on Azula's neck stood up. She wanted Arhedain. Quite why was a complete mystery. Sure, he was clearly well-built. Tall, admittedly quite handsome in a strange, savage way. Exotic, a stupider person might say. But he was a savage. A foreigner. Utterly unfitting for a fire nation noble, and the very idea of... it, the idea that she dared not fully express, was practically blasphemous to the core tenants of the Fire Nation.

Even if this woman's husband was an old, weak man of common blood, he was still a man of the Fire Nation. The greatest nation on the planet, blessed by the spirits with the duty to rule the world, to guide the lesser peoples, to rule over them. To breed only stronger, better people of fire.

Laying with Arhedain, as this bitch perhaps intended, was a breach of their most sacred duty. To birth and raise the next generation of Fire Nation soldiers. The result of such an accursed union might well be without inner fire- Might have his white skin, blue eyes, pale blond hair an absolute lack of bending prowess.

All the world would know she bred with a savage.

And yet, what could they do? Her husband was of lower birth, and less he wished to abandon his chance at nobility, he would have to accept the results of such a tryst. Such a child might inherit the flame, even if not their looks. With the power of a non-bender as skilled as Arhedain and their own flame, perhaps they might be...

Azula's rambling was interrupted by Arhedain.

"Oh, I hope you will," He said with a growing wry smile.

Azula snorted. Was he receptive to this slut? A harlot basically begging for his seed?

Of course he was. She was admittedly attractive, of fine Fire Nation noble breeding, and he was a dumb brute. She lifted her palms off the floor of the carriage lest she set the whole thing on fire.

"I know your 'horse' will cover more ground than my slow, cumbersome carriage, but she is a fine rest for the night. One I shall offer to you, Sir Arhedain. Your capture can stay too if you like, though she might have to sleep at the foot of my bed."

Azula studied her guard's expressions intently. He had to have known she would not agree to sleep on the floor while doubtlessly he... he...

"Oh, if it is no bother, Lady Kori," Arhedain replied with a smile.

She almost unleashed a lightning bolt at the two of them there and then.

_______________________________________________________

Arhedain knew this was a bad idea. Resting his sword against a wall of the carriage, he shot an apologetic look to the Princess. She was clearly extremely pissed. Anger radiated off her in waves, boiling the air around her. Arhedain could feel it. As could Kori, but she seemed to delight in the jealousy of a captured ****.

Of course, the Princess wasn't jealous, per se- Grossed out at what inevitably was going to happen, sure—disgusted that a noblewoman would stoop so low, probably. The two of them had not had a moment to speak aloud since they entered the carriage hours ago, but they could read each other quite well. Neither of the two liars bothered to hide themselves from the other. He imagined their argument going like this:

While I'm in the room? She might scream in silence.

I am not one to turn down hospitality, He would quietly reply.

Oh, I'm sure a great many men have not turned down her hospitality. I'm sure the results of her hospitality shall linger on you for quite some time, Azula could retort.

Cover your ears. I'll let you burn me to **** later, but first, I shall roll in the hay for the first time in months.

In his head, he won their non-verbal argument. She probably thought differently.

Before he could remove his shirt, warm hands reached around his back to rub his chest beneath it, feeling the skin and the scars.

"My oh my, you are a soldier," Lady Kori said with a smile. "I can see why the girl surrendered. I would do the same."

Arhedain lifted his top off, dropping it on the floor and turned towards the noblewoman. Her naked breasts pushed into his chest, the two of them so very close together. He could see small parts where her flesh folded onto itself. Unlike the brief, tantalising images of a naked Princess Azula he had seen, Lady Kori was clearly not one for manual labour. Not corpulent and fat like the worst of the nobility he had known back home, but she had no desire to stay in peak physical condition.

Instead, her soft, pliant body gave way under his squeezing. Her wide hips gave way to thick thighs that he could almost taste, her pale golden skin shining ever so slightly with sweat.

One of his hands ran down her back, pressing into her ass. The other, calloused though it was, gently felt at her breast, tweaking her dark nipples ever so slightly. She hissed and moaned and tilted her head up. Placing one hand behind his head, she **** him into a kiss. Her eager tongue battled his inside his mouth, though he was never one to back down from a fight. She started to breathe deeper, quicker, the longer their battle continued. While she closed her eyes, he kept one open to watch for Azula.

Her golden eyes bore into his own. Her anger and disgust seemed to **** her to watch; they wouldn't allow her to turn away. She sat cross-legged on the floor, her hands pooled in her lap, twitching ever so slightly.

Arhedain pressed on, pushing Lady Kori back onto her large bed. The two somewhat gracefully tumbled on top. Quickly, Arhedain broke off from the kiss. Both his hands moved to her wrists, pulling them above her head and pinning them in place with his right while his left returned to her hips.

"Oh, it's to be a ravishment then?" Lady Kori whispered.

"I figured it was to be expected of me?" Arhedain replied lowly. "If needs be, you can tell your husband the truth. A foreign savage pinned you down and had his way with you."

He ignored Azula's scoff at the foot of the bed. If she was so annoyed by this, she could shut up and go to sleep. He'd long ago learnt how to drown out the sound of other men having sex in a shared tent; she should learn the same.

He traced her clit with a finger, painfully slowly rubbing it. Every mini-gasp and moan made him stop until she calmed down. Then he'd set upon her again, forcing such noises out of her.

She gasped and wrapped her thick legs around his waist, trying to **** him on her. He fought her off, for now at least.

"Oh, but I want to lie to him. You'll make a liar of me yet, Sir Knight. A true fire nation child, rightful, legitimate noble heir to the house of Ran."

Arhedain traced his fingers further down, feeling her moist snatch shiver in anticipation.

Arhedain turned his head back, catching Azula watching. She was staring up the bed and probably having a good look at his ass, covered though it was by his trousers. Their eyes met.

She turned quickly, kneeling down behind the bed. Arhedain knew he'd face a reckoning for this. She'd likely kill him. She'd, at the very least, burn him for having sex in the presence of a Princess. A shame, he thought he'd been doing rather well with his manners so far.

Well, he was in character. He could always use that as an excuse. And, if she was to watch, so could she.

Keeping one hand pinning her wrists, he licked his soaked finger clean, then moved down his own body, catching his waistband and pulling off his trousers, followed by undoing the binds of his underwear. His hard cock, released from its prison, sprung forth, resting on her pussy.

"Shall we?" He asked, both to Lady Kori and to the eyes he could feel on his back.