The Fire Nation Prince

Chapter 50: Azula’s Morning Surprise [R-18]

Zuko woke up the next morning, his body still reeling from the brutal battle with General Fong. The room was dim, carrying the faint scent of smoke, herbs, and medicine. As he stirred, wincing at the pain, he realized he was not alone. Azula sat in the shadows, her sharp golden eyes on him, that cold but teasing smirk tugging at her lips.

”Well, well, well,” she began, her voice laced with mockery and admiration. ”Look who’s become the talk of the town overnight. The men chant your name now. You’ve become their ’legend.’ Quite impressive, really. But tell me, can you really bear that weight?”

Zuko’s eyes narrowed, his usual mix of defiance and bitterness evident even through the pain. ”I’m still standing, aren’t I?” he replied, bloodied but unbowed, determined even in his weakened state.

Azula’s smirk widened, and she stood, sauntering towards him with a predatory grace. ”Oh, I know you’re standing, brother,” she purred, running her fingers along his bandaged arm. ”But are you ready to rise?”

With that, she knelt beside the bed, her eyes never leaving his. She reached for the waistband of his pants, pulling them down slowly, revealing his already hardening cock. Zuko’s breath caught in his throat, a mix of pain and desire coursing through him.

”Let me help you with that,” Azula murmured, her eyes locked on his. She wrapped her fingers around his shaft, stroking him gently at first, then more firmly. Zuko groaned, his hips bucking involuntarily as she took him in her mouth, her tongue swirling around the head of his cock.

Azula worked him with an expert touch, her lips and tongue worshipping his dick as she took him deeper and deeper. She hummed softly, the vibrations sending shivers down Zuko’s spine. He could feel the tension building inside him, the pain from his injuries fading into the background as pleasure took over.

”Fuck, Azula,” he gasped, his fingers tangling in her hair. ”You’re going to make me cum.”

She pulled back slightly, her eyes meeting his. ”Do you want me to stop?” she asked, her voice thick with desire.

Zuko shook his head, his eyes pleading. ”Don’t you dare,” he growled, his hips thrusting upwards as she took him back into her mouth.

Azula worked him with renewed vigor, her lips and tongue moving in perfect harmony. Zuko could feel the pressure building inside him, the familiar tingle in his balls signaling his impending release.

”I’m going to cum,” he warned her, his voice ragged with desire. ”I’m going to fill your mouth.”

Azula moaned in response, her lips tightening around his shaft as she prepared to take him all in. With a final thrust, Zuko exploded, his cum filling her mouth as she swallowed every last drop.

As the last spasms of pleasure subsided, Azula crawled up beside him, still smirking. ”Well, that was quite a morning wake-up,” she purred, running her fingers along his chest.

Zuko lay there, his body sated but his mind still racing. He knew Azula was more than just his sister; she was a rival, an ally, and something more all at once. As he looked into her eyes, he could see the same mistrust reflected back at him.

”What are you really planning after Nan-Hai?” she asked, her voice low and dangerous.

Zuko hesitated, knowing he couldn’t reveal too much. ”Greater things are coming,” he replied vaguely.

Azula studied him for a moment, her smirk never wavering. ”Well, brother,” she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. ”I suppose we’ll just have to wait and see what those ’greater things’ might be.”

With that, she climbed off the bed, pulling her clothes back on. She paused at the door, her eyes lingering on him one last time. ”Don’t forget, Zuko,” she said, her voice taking on a more serious tone. ”We’re still watching each other.”

And with that, she disappeared into the shadows, leaving Zuko alone with his thoughts and the lingering taste of her on his dick.

Zuko lay back against the pillows, his body still stiff with pain, but laughter low and hoarse bubbled out of his throat. It was bitter and mocking, and it startled even him. To think he had bent Azula, of all people, to this. To think she had left after giving him a blowjob without him needing to even ask. He had changed her. Or maybe he had simply drawn out another side of her that had always been waiting. He knew it was because she was baiting him, it was so obvious and she knew it too. Which meant she was working on something beyond what he knew.

The chamber door creaked open, and Zuko quickly smothered his laughter, straightening up against the headboard. Hinaro stepped in first, her armor dusted and scuffed from the aftermath of the battle, her Kyoshi-green eyes sharp as ever. Ensign Lee followed, parchment scrolls clutched under his arm, his scholarly air somehow surviving the battlefield. Behind them came Sergeant Rin, whose face bore new scars of soot and grit, his expression still disciplined but betraying a certain weariness.

“Prince Zuko,” Hinaro said crisply, bowing. “It’s good to see you awake.”

Lee added measured words, “Your presence restores morale, my lord. The men are already whispering that you rise as quickly as your legend. Like a Phoenix from the ashes.”

Rin, ever more blunt, only said, “You look like hell, sir. But it’s good to see you breathing.”

Zuko grunted, managing a faint smirk. “Breathing’s enough. For now.”

They gathered closer, and Hinaro was the first to report. “The base is stabilizing. Admiral Kuvak has tightened the defenses and pulled the men into strict formations. His efficiency… cannot be denied.”

Rin snorted. “Efficiency’s a pretty word for strangling the spirit out of soldiers. Men fight best when they believe in something, not when they’re marched like machines.”

Lee, unwilling to be drawn into Rin’s tone, cleared his throat. “It is true, however, that Princess Azula has not allowed Kuvak to overshadow your role. She has told every officer, loudly and often that Nan-Hai was won because of you, Crown Prince. The men echo her words. They chant them.”

Zuko’s eyes narrowed, his smirk fading. “Of course she did. She knows what she’s doing.”

“They believe in you now,” Rin said quietly, his rough voice carrying weight. “Even the men who once muttered behind your back about your banishment, your temper, they’re silent. After what you did to Fong… they’re not following the Fire Nation anymore. They’re following you.”

The words lingered in the room, heavy and undeniable. Zuko felt their truth like a second pulse in his chest.

He shifted under his bandages, ignoring the stab of pain. “Then let Kuvak take his order and drills. Let him tighten ropes until men choke. I’ll give them something else. I’ll give them a reason to fight. A reason to bleed.”

Lee hesitated, his voice thoughtful. “There are already murmurs spreading beyond the base. If word reaches the capital of your victory here… it may not be so easy for Kuvak, or anyone else, to control you.”

Zuko’s gaze hardened, a flicker of firelight dancing in his eyes. “Good. Let them try.”

The room fell into silence for a moment, broken only by the crackle of a brazier in the corner. Hinaro exchanged a glance with Rin, and even Lee shifted uneasily. They all knew what he meant. The war was changing. And so was Zuko.

Zuko’s jaw tightened as he pushed himself upright, ignoring the tearing sting of his bandages. His body screamed at him to rest, but his mind burned hotter, clearer. He fixed his eyes on Rin, Lee, and Hinaro, and when he spoke, his voice cut through the chamber like steel.

“There’s no time left. We leave Nan-Hai.”

The three exchanged glances, uncertain, as Zuko continued. “Prepare a ship. I want sails ready before nightfall. We set course for Crescent Island.”

Rin’s face hardened instantly, his soldier’s instincts rising to the surface. “With all due respect, my prince, that’s madness. The men are still burying the dead. The wounded are still being tended to. Half the base is rubble from Bumi’s first assault, and Kuvak is tearing the rest apart with drills. If you vanish now…”

“Then let Kuvak keep tearing,” Zuko snapped, his voice hoarse but sharp. “Everything that needed to happen here has already been done. Nan-Hai is ours. Fong is dead. His army is broken. The rest will scatter or fall. What comes after no longer concerns me.”

Rin stepped closer, his voice rising. “It damn well should concern you. If Kuvak consolidates his grip here, he’ll claim this victory as his own. The Fire Lord will hear only his report, and your name will be left in the shadows.”

Zuko’s lips curved into a grim smile. “Let him try. The men know who broke Fong. They know who bled for this province. Kuvak can write his reports, but I carved my name into their memory with fire and blood. That’s not something ink can erase.”

Rin’s sharp gaze narrowed, her arms crossed. “And where exactly do we go, Prince Zuko? Crescent Island is no leisure cruise. The Solstice is three days away, you’re cutting it close. What business could be more important than solidifying Nan-Hai when we’ve only just taken it?”

Zuko looked at her directly, his voice lowering but no less intense. “Because if we don’t reach Crescent Island by the Solstice, all of this…” he gestured with a trembling, bandaged hand, as if pointing at the entire province beyond the walls, “…will mean shit. Not Nan-Hai. Not Fong. Not even the victory you just saw. Everything hinges on what I have to do there and then after that..”

Rin bristled, his scarred face darkening. “And what is it exactly that you have to do there, my prince? You ask us to abandon a newly-won province, to leave men under Kuvak’s boot, to throw away the momentum we’ve bled for. You owe us more than riddles.”

Zuko leaned forward, eyes burning. “What I owe you is victory. Not just here, but in this war. You think Fong was the end? He was nothing but a wall in the way. The real fight hasn’t even begun. The Avatar is moving. The northern tribes are moving. If the boy masters the elements, all of this will collapse. Crescent Island is the only path forward. It’s the only way I’ll have the knowledge I need to keep the Fire Nation alive.”

Rin shook his head, biting back his frustration. “Then why did you have the Avatar escape in the first place? It doesn’t make any fucking sense what your end goal is Prince Zuko!? You speak like a man possessed, Zuko. You speak of things none of us understand. What’s more, you’re still half-dead. Even now, you can barely stand. You’d die before you set foot on a ship.”

Zuko’s smirk returned, bitter but defiant. “Watch your tongue Sergeant Rin. I am still your Crown Prince. You underestimate me, Rin. I’m alive because I refuse to die. I’ll crawl onto that ship if I have to. But I will be there when the sun sets on Crescent Island. Three days. That’s all the time we have.”

Lee finally spoke, adjusting his glasses, his tone calm but carrying weight. “Sergeant Rin, Hinaro, consider this. Nan-Hai is already secure. Admiral Kuvak is efficient, if nothing else, and he will ensure the province holds. The Crown Prince’s departure will not undo the victory. In fact, it may be to our advantage. If His Highness succeeds in what he intends, the gains here will only multiply.”

Hinaro frowned, unconvinced. “Or we hand Kuvak the keys to the province, and he locks us out.”

Zuko stood, unsteady but tall, cutting off any further argument. His body trembled under the strain, but his will was immovable. “Enough. My decision is final. Ready the ship. We leave before nightfall. Anyone who wants to remain here, stay under Kuvak’s leash. But I will not waste another moment in this dust-choked hole. My destiny is waiting, and I will be there.”

The chamber fell into silence. Rin’s jaw was tight, his fists clenched at his sides, but he bowed stiffly, his loyalty binding him even against his doubts. “Very well, my prince. I’ll see to the preparations. But I’ll hold you to your words, if this gamble costs us more than we can bear, the blood will be on your hands.”

Zuko met his eyes, unwavering. “Then let it be. I’ve carried worse.”

Hinaro inclined her head sharply, her expression unreadable. Lee, ever measured, simply scribbled notes on a fresh scroll, already calculating the logistics.

The path was set. Crescent Island awaited.

***

The small Earth Kingdom town of Hujiang was a quiet place, nestled between rolling hills and dense forests. Its streets were lined with modest wooden buildings, their eaves adorned with lanterns that swayed gently in the late afternoon breeze. The air carried the scent of roasted chestnuts and simmering broths, mingling with the distant hum of merchants haggling over wares. It was the kind of town where time moved slowly, where the war felt like a distant rumor rather than a crushing reality.

General Iroh sat alone at a corner table in a modest teahouse, his broad frame relaxed but ever-vigilant. A pot of jasmine tea steamed before him, its delicate aroma blending with the earthy sweetness of honey cakes arranged on a small plate. His fingers traced the rim of his cup absently, his gaze distant as if lost in thought. The teahouse was sparsely populated, a few locals chatting in hushed tones, an elderly man dozing by the hearth, and a server who moved with practiced efficiency between tables.

Iroh took a slow sip of his tea, savoring the warmth as it spread through his chest. The tranquility of the moment was a rare luxury, one he had learned to appreciate in his years of wandering. Yet, even here, the weight of his past lingered like a shadow.

A figure slid into the chair opposite him, the movement so smooth it barely disturbed the air. The man was cloaked in a heavy hooded robe, the fabric frayed at the edges from travel. His face remained obscured, but Iroh didn’t need to see it to recognize him.

”Lieutenant Tau,” Iroh said, his voice calm but edged with caution. He set his cup down with deliberate care. ”It’s been some time.”

Tau leaned back, the hood casting his features in deeper shadow. Only the faint glint of his eyes was visible, sharp and calculating. ”General Iroh,” he replied, his tone light but laced with something darker. ”It’s no longer lieutenant, thanks to your nephew, but that is beside the point. Hanging out in an Earth Kingdom town like you own the place. How… unorthodox.”

Iroh chuckled, though his grip on the teacup tightened imperceptibly. ”The world is full of surprises. Even for old soldiers like us.”

Tau’s fingers drummed lightly on the table, a restless rhythm. ”I wonder what your son would say if he saw you here,” he mused, tilting his head slightly. ”Fraternizing with the people who took his life.”

The air between them grew heavy. Iroh’s jovial demeanor vanished, replaced by a stillness that was more dangerous than any outburst. His golden eyes hardened, the warmth in them cooling to something glacial. ”It is not good to speak ill of the dead, Tau,” he warned, his voice low and measured. ”Especially when you know nothing of what you speak.”

Tau held up a hand in mock surrender. ”Peace, General. I’m not here to dredge up old ghosts.” He leaned forward slightly, the hint of a smirk playing at the edge of his lips. ”Well, not just that, anyway.”

Iroh studied him for a long moment, his expression unreadable. ”Then why are you here?”

Tau’s smirk faded, replaced by a grim seriousness. ”There’s a matter that concerns you. A serious one.”

Before Iroh could respond, another figure emerged from the dim interior of the teahouse. This man was taller, his frame broad and imposing beneath his own hooded robes. His steps were silent, deliberate, as if he moved through the world without truly touching it. He stopped beside their table, his presence commanding the space around him.

Iroh’s gaze flicked to the newcomer, his instincts sharpening. There was something familiar in the way the man carried himself, in the quiet intensity that radiated from him.

Tau gestured lazily. ”Well, there’s someone who’s been looking forward to meeting you.”

The hooded man reached up and slowly pulled back his hood, revealing a face weathered by time and hardship. A thick, braided beard framed his jaw, streaked with silver. His eyes, sharp, wolf-like, locked onto Iroh’s with an intensity that sent a jolt through the older man’s spine.

”Long time, General Iroh,” the man said, his voice rough but laced with an undercurrent of something almost… amused. ”Or should I say… Father?”

Iroh’s breath caught in his throat. His cup slipped from his fingers, clattering against the table as tea spilled across the wood. His hands trembled, his mind racing to reconcile the impossible sight before him.

”L-Lu Ten…?” he whispered, the name tearing from his lips like a prayer.

[A/N: Can’t wait to see what happens next? Get exclusive early access on .com/saiyanprincenovels.]