My arm still wrapped around her neck as I squeezed tightly. My body released my seed deep inside her.
Softening up my grip I heard Katara's panting body as mine did the same.
"Just admit you stole it... and I could stop tomorrow," I whispered in he...
I paced back and forth, unable to stop the words from spilling out. That bastard! Why should I apologize!? He hit me first... my thoughts seethed.
Because you're the one trying to escape. Katara's conscience whispered, rolling its eyes as if it were a person standing beside her. I glanced around the empty room, my rage threatening to boil over. Breathing heavily, I let out a small, frustrated scream. "Arghhh! I so don't want to do this!"
Finally, setting my eyes on the door, I steadied myself. My nerves were tight, but I forced a deep breath and reminded myself, Here goes nothing.
I opened the door. The two guards looked at me, confused. "Go back inside," one ordered.
"No," I replied, firm.
A guard, his helmet shadowing his eyes, spoke again. "You're supposed to stay here. If you resist, I'm taking you to the Fire Lord—kicking and screaming if I have to."
"I'll walk. Thanks." Pride lifted my chin as I stepped out. My long red skirt swayed just below my knees, and a soft fabric tube top covered my chest beneath a darker, flowing top. My deep brown hair shone in the sunlight streaming through the palace windows.
The two guards followed closely. One's eyes scanned the path ahead, the other's tracked me from behind.
"Dajo, stop it!" the rear guard whispered. "You heard the Fire Lord's orders," the other replied.
"Zekks... you see what I see, right?" Dajo muttered, his voice low. "The things I could make her do..."
"I'm not losing my benefits over you, Dajo! My wife would kill me," Zekks hissed back.
Zuko
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"You've been here all night... don't you want to get some sleep?" Mai's voice trailed from my side. She ran a finger along a dusty vase, scowling at the layer of neglect on her fingertip.
The room was dark and quiet. A large portrait of Iroh hung at the center, watching silently. A table before it held a few bowls of fresh fruit, clean water, and incense and candles burning with rare fragrances. The deceased's ashes were sealed in a beautiful red beryl urn.
Below, a gold basin glowed, steadily releasing an orange flame that licked the floor.
My eyes were heavy, my mouth dry, but still I knelt in the same spot all night, at the center of it all, feeding the fire with branches.
"...You can leave," I muttered.
Rolling her eyes, Mai huffed and moved toward the door. She had stood by my side for the last twenty minutes, unwilling to offer wood but determined to get me to leave. Why is he always like this? Can't he just let it go...
