Avatar: The Book Of The Phoenix

Ozai's Escape

The rhythmic thump of the ship's engines provided the only sound in the command center. Maps and navigational charts lay scattered across the table, a testament to their long journey. Azula, perched on a high stool, meticulously charted their course, her brow furrowed in concentration.

Rokkun leaned against the bulkhead, watching her. He admired the way she moved, the grace and precision that belied the fire within her. "Still working on that course, hm?" he asked, his voice a low rumble.

Azula barely acknowledged him, her gaze fixed on the chart. "Almost done," she muttered, her voice tight.

Rokkun chuckled. "You know, you don't have to do it all yourself. I can help."

Azula scoffed, her hand instinctively reaching for a nearby dagger. "I don't need your help, Rokkun."

He raised his hands in surrender. "Alright, alright. Just making sure you're not burning yourself out." He moved closer, his gaze softening. "You seem... tense."

Azula finally looked up, her eyes flickering with a strange intensity. "It's been a while," she admitted, her voice barely a whisper. "Too long. I haven't seen my father or been home in ages."

The bravado that usually shielded her seemed to crumble, replaced by a vulnerability that both surprised and intrigued Rokkun. He stepped closer, his hand reaching out to gently touch her shoulder.

Azula flinched at first, but then relaxed, a sigh escaping her lips. Rokkun, sensing her shift, pulled her closer, his arms wrapping around her.

"Remember our plan?" Rokkun asked, his voice a low rumble.

Azula looked up at him, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Of course."

With a mischievous grin, Rokkun whipped out a pair of heavy iron chains, the links glinting menacingly in the dim light of the command center.

Azula's eyes widened in mock surprise. "Rokkun!" she exclaimed, but a playful laugh escaped her lips.

Reluctantly, she handed the wheel over to one of the Nomads, who looked on with a mixture of amusement and apprehension. Azula then held out her arms, a playful challenge in her eyes. Rokkun, grinning, carefully fastened the chains around her dainty wrist.

As the last chain clicked into place, Azula leaned forward, her forehead resting against his.

"I love you." she whispered, her voice husky.

Rokkun, his heart pounding, leaned down and kissed her, the taste of salt and freedom on her lips.

As the ship approached the capital's harbor, a sense of anticipation, both excitement and trepidation, settled over Rokkun. The Nomads took their positions, ready for action. Rokkun, a mischievous glint in his eyes, donned the captain's helmet, the ornate crest of the Fire Nation gleaming in the morning sun.

With a final surge of power, the ship glided into the Royal Plaza, a spectacle that drew the attention of the bustling crowd. As they docked, Rokkun, Azula, and a select group of Nomads, disguised as elite Fire Nation soldiers, exited the ship, their armor gleaming under the watchful eyes of the harbor guards.

They were met by a group of imperial soldiers, their faces stern and their eyes wary.

A burly colonel stepped forward, his voice booming. "State your business!"

Rokkun, maintaining his stern facade, saluted. "Captain Zo, of the Spitfire. Colonel," he continued, "We have apprehended a suspected spy while stationed in Hira'a. We will require an escort to the Capital Prison."

He gestured to Azula, who was "resisting" with feigned indignation. "This individual was found snooping around our encampment, gathering intelligence."

Azula, playing her part to perfection, glared at Rokkun, her voice dripping with feigned defiance. "Let go of me! Do you know who I am?"