Dampened
Zaofu had been cloaked in unrelenting rain for days. The metallic city's chill bit deeper, aggravating old wounds scattered across your body.
Even with the office heater humming, your hand trembled around the pen, joints throbbing. Paperwork became a mechanical chore.
The phone rang three times before you answered.
The Fire Nation's trade envoy relayed Fire Lord Izumi's enthusiasm for the Earth Empire's energy and rare metals proposal.
You drafted the agreements through gritted teeth. Rising to find Kuvira, you halted at the knock.
"Enter."
Kuvira filled the doorway, uniform crisp.
"Madam President." Your attempted salute ended in a stumble. Her gaze sharpened on your pallor.
She sealed the door, heat radiating from her presence. "You look like hell."
"I'm—"
Her calloused palm pressed against your forehead. You snapped to attention.
"Why are you freezing?" Genuine concern laced her voice. You craved the touch but loathed showing weakness.
Shoving documents forward, you redirected her. "The Fire Nation collaboration draft. Your review."
Formalities were armor.
She skimmed pages, praise flowing until she froze. "The pipeline goes through GAOLING."
*Thud.* A green flag pierced Guan's territory on the terrain model.
Cooperation with that warmonger was inevitable. Let Kuvira decide how to break him.
When she left without dismissal, you smirked. Bath time.
Steam fogged the bathroom as you sank into scalding water. The door creaked—your secretary with herbs, you assumed.
"Leave them," you murmured, eyes closed.
Instead, someone scattered herbs into the water. Too late, you registered the footsteps' weight.
A hand grazed your shoulder. You struck like a viper—only to freeze.
Kuvira's wrist burned in your grip.
"Apologies." You released her, tone smooth as mercury. "Unexpected guests require... caution."
"How long?" Her voice cut through steam.
"Years." You stirred the water, scars glinting beneath the surface. "Here to discipline me, *President*?"
Her silence tasted sweeter than assent.
The ointment stung as she applied it to your spine. Let her see the marks—each a trophy.
"Why the Fire Nation?"
You imagined her theories: defection, betrayal, coup. How pedestrian.
"You cherish this empire." Your smile mirrored a scalpel's edge. "So I'll make it *magnificent*."
Truth was cheaper than lies.
"Just that?" You turned, water sloshing. "Or shall we discuss Battar?"
Her flinch was ambrosia.
"*I* sent the telegram." You leaned closer, breath ghosting her jaw. "Korra's sanctimony made it easy. Love conquers all? How trite."
Her silence fed your hunger.
"You loved him." The lie dripped honey-sweet.
"He was family."
Your laugh cracked the steam. "*I* took blades for you. *I* built your throne. Yet you mourn that worm?"
Tears? Let her mistake them for grief. All weapons served.
"Enough!"
You seized her wrist, water soaking her shirt. "Love me instead."
Her lips parted—
When she left, you didn't watch. Your real secretary emerged from shadows.
"Two days' leave," you ordered.
Alone, you examined your reflection. Ruthless eyes stared back.
*Perfect.*