Playing With Fire

The night had passed unbearably slow for Aria. Minutes after he had finished with her, Zhao fell asleep. His heavy arm draped over Aria’s ribcage was horribly restrictive and the stickiness of his sweaty chest pressed against her bare back was almost unendurable. She had spent the rest of the night staring at the opposite wall, listening to Zhao’s deep, regular breathing and the distant crash of waves against the hull of the ship. Without a lot of success, Aria tried to quell the tremors sweeping across her body, terrified of waking him up and provoking another attack. Her mind seemed incapable of processing anything other than shame, guilt and humiliation; it was overwhelming, paralyzing. It was a good thing she would be marrying Zhao; she was no longer fit for any other man. Several tears slipped silently down the curve of her cheeks in close procession. Her legs traveling all the way up her backside to her shoulders were permeated with a deep soreness; the few times she had dared to shift her position had been incredibly uncomfortable. A feeling of being unclean overcame her and it was all she could do to keep from bolting from the bed to find the nearest bath.
She quickly closed her eyes when, with a low groan, Zhao removed his arm and sat up. Desperately, she slowed her breathing, trying her hardest to appear asleep, hoping he had somewhere pressing to be. He was the Admiral of an entire fleet; he had to have something to do. Every sound seemed magnified tenfold; the creak of the bed when Zhao lifted his weight off, his barefoot tread, the splash of water where Aria assumed he was washing his face, the rustle of clothing, and then finally the wailing of the heavy steel door. Aria kept her breathing calm and waited several heartbeats before she dared open her eyes; the room was indeed empty.
While getting dressed, Aria avoided at all costs looking at her own body, irrationally afraid of what she would see. The elaborate gold embroidery on the seams of her new clothes gleamed dully in the low light and, after wearing her own threadbare, worn clothes for so long, seemed overly luxurious. It was odd how fast perspective could change; in the Capital, every single article of clothing she owned had been just as high quality as the clothes she had been given if not better. With a final effort to look normal, Aria splashed her face in the wash basin and restrained her hair in a high top knot. On the stand next to the basin was a small shaving mirror and she picked it up on impulse to examine herself. Her already pale skin was now almost devoid of color and light shadows ringed the bottom of her eyes; she had not slept a minute. She replaced the mirror before her eyes could travel to her red spotted neck and pulled her collar up as high as she could before stepping out the door.
Immediately upon Aria stepping out into the corridor, a short, brick of a man detached himself from the wall and bobbed down in a small bow. A pug like face surrounded by a thick matt of sideburns was mounted on a body that looked as if it were designed along the lines of a komodo rhino.
“Seaman Xan at your service.” The man stated in a neutral, surprisingly smooth voice. By the looks of him, he should have had a voice of gargled gravel. Aria contemplated ignoring him; the prospect of being polite seemed exhausting. It was with almost a sense of wonderment that she remembered she didn’t need to be particularly polite; these people all knew her for who she was. There were very few people General Jirou’s daughter and Admiral Zhao’s betrothed needed to be deferential to.
“Your services won’t be needed.” Aria answered shortly, “Resume your duties.”
“I’m sorry ma’am.” The man answered, looking unperturbed. “Admiral Zhao has ordered you escorted at all times. The threat of the Avatar has not yet passed.”
“Well, I’m telling you I don’t need you. Zhao is mistaken in wasting man power on me; I’ll be just fine.” Aria answered in a logical voice.
“Admiral Zhao wishes me to escort you.” The man insisted calmly.
“As wonderful a man as Admiral Zhao is, he’s not acting as a commander in this circumstance. He’s blinded by his love for me.” Aria said, trying to stay calm.
Xan said nothing but continued to watch her with an irritatingly bland expression; anger immediately flared in Aria.
“Zhao answers to my father! If General Jirou hears I’m unhappy I guarantee Admiral Zhao can’t protect your job!” Aria almost shouted. Suddenly, tears threatened to spill over and she had to stop talking; it was horrifying to her how much of a mess she was today. She couldn’t keep herself pulled together. She glared at him, daring him to make a comment.
“Admiral Zhao, not General Jirou, is my commanding officer.” Xan answered, “I apologize if you take offense to this.”
Aria frowned, staring at the man’s bland face; Zhao had chosen somebody she couldn’t persuade or bully into what she wanted. His foresight infuriated her; she had never held his intelligence in high regard but recently he had been surprising her. Waiting to respond until she could do so without a waver in her voice, Aria ran her tongue across her teeth and clenched and unclenched her hands.
“You can follow me around all you want if it makes you happy.” Aria finally said calmly, “I’m going for a walk.”
The metal corridors that snaked through the bowels of the ship were oppressively narrow and cramped. Their tread was magnified and rang metallically; Aria had forgotten how loud it could be. It was freaking her out how closely the man was following her and it took a conscious effort to keep from hunching her shoulders up. There was several minutes of directionless wandering before, vaguely, Aria realized she was hungry and it became her mission to find the galley; she refused to ask Xan for directions, in fact, she was determined not to talk with him at all. She took the first stairwell going up available, remembering where the galley had been located on Kon’s ship and hoping it would be the same. After some trial and error, barely acknowledging the respectful bows of passing sailors and studiously ignoring Xan, she managed to stumble across the galley.
Raucous laughter and loud conversation mixed with the scrapes of benches being pulled back, cutlery clinking against plates, and the occasional voice raised in anger. At the end of the room was a decent queue in front of a small window where a lanky young cook’s boy was handing out trays of food; Aria joined the line, her stomach almost painfully empty. Though Aria was perfectly content waiting in line, apparently Xan was not. He elbowed past men, growling low toned threats under his breath and motioning Aria forward. Stalking forward angrily, Aria snatched her tray and sat at the emptiest table she could find; she was unappreciative of the attention Xan had drawn. Men were now watching her curiously and talking in much more hushed voices. Perhaps a bit moodily, Aria stirred through the overdone noodles glooping over her chopsticks while Xan looked on, not partaking of any food. Within minutes, first one man than another came and sat at her table until not a seat was left. Xan glared protectively; Zhao would hold him responsible for anything that happened. While the men chatted amiably, Aria gave every appearance of listening politely but in all reality, if asked what they were saying, probably couldn’t give an adequate answer. It was only when the ship gave a noticeable lurch and the feeling of the waves rocking the great ship became much more pronounced, that Aria looked up in interest.
“What’s going on?” Her voice sounding softly feminine among so many men.
“We’re leaving this port for our base up near that town, Makapu. To wait for the rest of the fleet.” The man directly across from her answered.
“The rest of the fleet?” Aria asked, “Is this not all of it?”
The men laughed good-humoredly at this young girl who knew nothing of military affairs.
“Attack the North Pole with only fifteen ships?” A different man jumped in, eager to participate. “Those savages have been holed up there good and tight for hundreds of years; their defenses are going to be formidable. It’s the last big concentration of Waterbenders.”
“Oh.” Aria answered simply, becoming silent once more. The information was worrying but didn’t seem to penetrate the haze that had been surrounding Aria all day, muting her feelings until the occasional outburst managed to stab its way through.
Saying the proper farewells, Aria extracted herself from the bench and left, not caring if Xan was following or not. After brief contemplation, Aria headed topside; she really had no idea what was expected of her and wanted to take advantage of the free time to refine her lightening bending. Maybe if Zhao knew she could fry him at a whim he’d hesitate messing with her in the future.
A breeze that tasted of salt and freshness met Aria when she threw open the door leading to the deck. She stepped out onto the rolling deck, glad she had gained her sea legs on Kon’s ship. When she stood at the very prow of the ship it was almost easy to convince herself that she was alone; Zhao’s flagship was in the lead and on the front and left nothing was visible but heaving ocean, white caps indicating where the waves had broken. On the right, visible only as slightly raised hillocks on the horizon, was the shore. The illusion was broken when she turned to face the stern. A great black column of smoke billowed out of the command tower, leaving an ugly trail in its wake. To the sides and behind, almost identical ships contributed to the pollution of the no longer blue sky.
Electric blue lightening trailed after her hands as she flowed from once stance to another, marveling at the relative ease with which she manipulated this pure energy. True, it was still much harder for her than summoning fire which, for her, was as natural as breathing, but perhaps immodestly, she was impressed with how far she had come. The concentration required blocked out all other thoughts and she managed to escape the ugly feelings and memories that had been so thoroughly eating away at her that day. Without reserve, she threw herself into the moves, shooting bolt after bolt of electricity upward where it dispersed into the cloudless sky. It was only when sweat began stinging her eyes and her hair was creeping out of the top knot that she paused, placing her hands on her thighs to catch her breath.
A smattering of applause and a few whistles broke out; without Aria noticing, sailors had gathered around to watch. Some leaned lazily against the railings of the ship, others stood grouped in a loose half circle at a safe distance. A small frown appeared on Aria’s brow; she hadn’t noticed the men converging upon her and was thoroughly uncomfortable. A gruff voice shouted from somewhere in the middle of the group.
“Five gold pieces says she can beat your arse up and down this boat, Jiang-Hu!”
The man apparently named Jiang-Hu shifted from foot to foot, looking unsure; his hesitation was understandable, the man that hurt Zhao’s fiancé was in for a world of trouble.
“C’mon!”
“What are you a man or not?”
“You owe me three gold pieces, you better take her!”
Voices egged him on from all sides, each calling him the most creative names Aria had never heard. Having enough, the man spoke up.
“Make it ten gold pieces and you cover my watch shift tonight!” Jiang-Hu shouted at the man who had made the original bet. “Provided you consent, ma’am.” He added, looking askance of Aria.
Aria shrugged; she could use the practice and it was nothing to her if this man lost his gold.
“Sure.” She said detachedly, looking at him with such a deadpan expression that he shifted uncomfortably.
“No lightening?” He asked cautiously.
“If you don’t want.” Aria agreed.
The man nodded and stepped forward, already on high alert. Separated by several feet, they bowed to each other and Aria readied herself to fight, flexing at the knees and raising her hands to chest level. She watched the man, calculating his position and that of her environment. Detachedly, she noticed Xan at the forefront of the crowd, looking angry and ready to intercede. There was not much room to retreat should she need it; this was going to be an up close, dirty fight. Quickly in her head, she reviewed her arsenal of short range attacks and planned the likely course of the fight. All of this was thought out in the few seconds before Jiang-Hu raised one arm above his head, conjuring a fiery whip; an unwieldy choice for such a cramped situation. Reacting immediately, Aria darted forward instead of retreating, becoming too close for effective use of the fire whip. In both fists, she formed short, dagger like tongues of flame and attacked, slashing at the man’s face and chest. Immediately he relinquished control of the whip, instead choosing to give up his footing to beat a hasty retreat to protect himself. Recovering his bearing, the man formed the same fire daggers and closed in on her. For several minutes they wove in and out, each trying to land a blow while avoiding the other’s ferocious swings. Aria managed to sear a black line across the man’s chest plate and burned a great hole in the sleeve of his upper arm, complete with a shiny new burn on the skin underneath. In return, she had received only a slightly smoking shirt hem.
They parted and circled each other briefly, the man appraising Aria with a new found wariness. Aria was fully aware of the unfair advantage she held over this man; no one in their right mind was going to seriously hurt her. At the very least he would spend time in the brig, at the very worst Zhao would go into a murderous rage and possibly have the man killed. It didn’t bother her a bit; in a fight, she was going to use every advantage her enemy handed to her. She only hoped ten gold pieced and a night off was worth whatever happened afterward.
Choosing brute strength over finesse this time, Aria sent a great blast of her blue fire which the man only deflected by raising a small barrier of fire in front of him. The resulting blast sent him spinning several feet back and the on looking crowd ducked. When he regained his feet, Jiang-Hu had a bloody nose which he wiped away impatiently; it was easy to see that he was beginning to lose his composure. He couldn’t lose to this girl and keep his standing with the men on the ship. With a snarl he ran at her, both hands held to his left and trailing flame. Within feet of her he released the fire and it came winging in her direction. He had predicted her dodging it and had prepared a second attack closely following. He was rewarded for his foresight when one of his flame covered fists connected solidly with the side of her face and the other darted forward to land a devastating blow to her breastbone.
Aria staggered back and fell flat on her back, stars erupting across her field of vision. Though she was having trouble breathing and could barely see, she heard Jiang-Hu coming and rolled quickly out of the way as another blast of fire blackened the deck exactly where she had fallen. The yells and cheers of the crowd could barely be heard over the ringing in her ears as she quickly tried to compose herself. She had misjudged him; she didn’t think he would dare actually hit her.
Without warning, she surged forward, sending quick blasts of fire at him, one after the other. Jiang-Hu was taken by surprise; he was mistakenly under the impression that she would be unable to recover so quickly from being hit so hard. Several of the fire blasts connected, making him fly backward and hit the deck hard. In a flash, Aria was on top of him. She shoved her knee hard into his ribcage, leaving him gasping for air, and grabbed his hair, forcing him to stretch his neck out. Keeping an open flame almost up against his exposed throat, Aria dug her knee deeper.
“You lose?” She questioned. When he struggled to get out from under her, she put the flame closer, scorching his neck.
“Yes!” He yelped, “You win.”
Aria released him and stood, leaving him to put out his clothes as they had taken fire where the blasts had hit. Without pausing to talk to the many men who surrounded her, patting her on the back and trading money from bets over her head, Aria stalked off, closely shadowed by Xan. At the time, she had been happy for a chance to exercise her bending against an actual Firebender but now wanted nothing more than to be left alone.
“Excuse me, Ma’am, but perhaps we should go to medical. Your face is going to bruise.” Xan said neutrally.
“And going to medical will stop it from bruising?” Aria asked sarcastically, “If you’re worried about your job, don’t be. Zhao’s been away all day. How’s he to know I was fighting? I’ll tell him I fell.”
Aria did not see Zhao until she had returned to his room from getting dinner that night at the galley, leaving Xan out in the corridor. Upon arrival, the room was empty and she examined herself in the shaving mirror. A nasty bruise had indeed formed on both the side of her face and on her chest. These fresh additions, in combination with the slightly different type of bruise on her neck, made her look a mess and she was only glad the bruises on her backside weren’t visible to the public eye. She had just pulled her hair down and was working on pulling her boots off when the door swung open and Zhao stepped through. The sight of him instantly made a wave of cold settle in the pit of her stomach but she refused to acknowledge that she may actually be afraid of him.
“You’ve had a busy day.” Zhao said calmly, shutting the door behind him.
“Not really.” Aria answered evasively, “What about you? You’ve been gone all day.”
“You fought with one of the men off duty for a bet. He put hands on you; look at your face.” Zhao growled, ignoring her flimsy attempt at distraction. “And on top of that you ate with the enlisted men in the galley.”
“What’d Xan tell you I was fighting? If you want this marriage to work, we’re going to need some more trust. I can’t do this alone. No more setting your goons to follow me.” Aria answered in a sarcastically hurt voice.
“You will not act that way again.” Zhao commanded in a thunderous voice, his temper beginning to rear its ugly head.
“Act like what? Like I don’t want to sit in a room all day with no human interaction other than Xan? Who apparently can’t be trusted anyway because he won’t keep his mouth shut. I apologize for getting hungry; I’ll avoid that in the future.” Aria argued angrily, dropping her newly shed boots and sidling back out of arms reach. “You’re an idiot if you think I’m going to sit here all day, waiting for you to get back and attack me.”
Zhao charged at her, his speed surprising coming from someone with so much bulk, and slammed her, stomach first, against the wall. He grabbed a handful of her hair and yanked her head back so violently, Aria felt several of them part company with her scalp.
“You apparently haven’t learned your lesson, Aria.” Zhao growled, “I’m beginning to think you like this every bit as much as I do, the way you’re always asking for it with that smart mouth.”
“Well, an intelligent person would switch up their methods if they weren’t getting results.” Aria blurted out cynically.
His face contorted in a violent snarl, Zhao used his handful of her hair to throw her to the floor. Anticipating a follow up attack, Aria scrambled across the floor for several feet before jumping to her feet and bracing herself against the wall. To her surprise, Zhao had not moved from the spot but only stood watching her with a worrying smile playing at the corner of his mouth. When he stepped forward Aria flinched but other than a small chortle, Zhao ignored her and began splashing his face in the wash basin. Finding Aria still glued to the spot, Zhao set down the towel he had been wiping his face dry with and began undressing.
“I’m not going to fight with you.” He stated calmly, pulling his shirt over his head. When Aria made a sound of disbelief, his smile returned, “I don’t need to fight you. Sure, it’s fun when you fight, but it’s much more entertaining to watch you self-destruct. To watch you put yourself through, as I’m sure you see it, hell, all in the name of love. Now, unless you’ve rethought your situation and want to leave the Prince to find his own way home, come here.”
Aria’s heart seemed to have been replaced with a shard of ice, stabbing into her chest and making her want to gasp for air. She couldn’t do it; she couldn’t make herself act willing, even eager, to go into his arms. His hooded eyes watched her curiously as she began to tremble and finally, after several minutes, took a stiff step forward. Every step seemed to increase the fear blossoming in her chest until it became overwhelming and she stopped, having covered only a little over half the distance to Zhao. Seemingly undisturbed by her inability to finish the task, he closed the distance between them and pulled her hips up against him. Aria felt sick to her stomach when his crotch pushed up against her lower stomach, betraying his eagerness.
“Have you ever considered the possibility of being killed in your sleep?” Aria asked as if discussing the weather.
“It’d have to be incredibly clever. Anything less than that; fire, lightening, stabbing, poison-they can be easily detected.” Zhao murmured, punctuating his words with trailing kisses up her neck, “And as I assume it’s you contemplating my death here, you better not mess up. The person that kills me will spend life in prison, no matter how important their father is.”
“Maybe it’s worth it.” Aria answered.
“Then consider the effect it would have on Zuko.” Zhao pointed out, “Please don’t be so delusional as to think that if you broke our agreement, our half would still be honored. Trust me, if I die, though we may not be able to officially banish him again, there are other ways of taking care of that problem. So you better try your hardest to make it look like an accident.”
“I’ve got nothing but time to plan.” Aria answered coldly.
“In the meantime,” Zhao stated, ignoring her implied threat and supremely unperturbed by the complete loathing residing behind her icy gaze, “the only sound I want to hear coming out of your mouth, are your moans when you discover what a real man can do.”
Aria closed her eyes and imagined Zhao’s frantic eyes staring wildly while his hands scrabbled at the knife hilt sticking out of his chest. After his futile struggling, his eyes went glassy and his body relaxed, blood pooling beneath him. That image disappeared to be replaced by Zhao falling to the floor, his eyes bulging and froth spilling from his mouth as poison overcame him. Lost as she was in her macabre fantasy, his touch became almost bearable.