"I hate being stuck in this prison," Azula thought while sitting on her couch. Yes, her prison had a couch, and a bed, and a bath, and a vanity table. It was spacious and kept at a pleasant temperature. The Princess was given every comfort money could buy; she was served the finest food, had an attendant who came in to tie her hair into her signature top-knot and talk to her, and had her entire impressive wardrobe in a closet. There was a tumbling mat where she could...pretend to practice firebending.

Comfortable as it was, it was a prison, nonetheless. She was here against her own will, deemed insane by her brother after her defeat at the waterbender's hands. Hidden away, taken care of, a shame to the family. He had even ordered the Avatar to remove her firebending "for the safety of others and for herself." And though Zuko tried to placate her by letting her live a life as close to her old one as possible, she hated him for taking away her bending. She was not...Azula...without it.

Which is why, even with how comparatively pleasant her life was, she was miserable. And why she was sitting on the couch with two thick white bandages on her wrists. The ornate handle that used to hold a glass mirror was still sitting on the table in front of her, but the shards had been swept away by the medical staff. It hurt Azula just to remember what had driven her to break that mirror.

She had been locked in straight-jacket and put in solitary confinement for two nights. That was a terrible experience that had reduced her to the feral state she hadn't been in for over a year. The princess had been writhing on the floor, snarling like a madwoman, and soaking her cheeks with tears.

Yet somehow, being allowed to go back here, to her room, on her brother's orders, was even more awful. She would have rather have spent a year in that cell than to be aided by her brother.

She heard the creek of a door and expected either her shrink or her personal attendant to come in; they were the only contact she had with outside world on a regular basis. She didn't mind them; both seemed to show genuine compassion for her, and she was admittedly in a better place mentally then she had been. If it was true that she was no longer Azula, she wasn't quite sure who she was now.

"Azula," came a voice she did not want to hear. Azula could still read emotions in spoken language; the man who spoke was showing sadness with a touch of anger.

It was Zuko.

She gritted her teeth, but did not answer the Fire Lord.

"Sis?" he said, a term of endearment he hadn't used in over six years.

"Go away, Zuko," she growled.

Still she heard footsteps. He was walking closer to her, and she could feel the cushion her head was resting on change shape as he placed his hand on it. Unconsciously, her hands clenched into fists; her personal space was being violated, and whenever that had happened for the last year, it had never ended well for her. And she hated that no matter what she did, she would not be a match for him without her bending.

"I just want to talk," he said reassuringly.

"I said go away," she threatened in a whisper.

"I'm not going a..."

"LEAVE ME ALONE!" Azula shouted, jumping to her feet and trying to slap him, but Zuko caught her wrist before she could make contact. She winced; it was still sore. Azula flailed her other hand wildly at him, but he stopped that blow as well.

"Let me go!" she demanded before childishly wriggling to try and escape, but Zuko held onto her. Fortunately, he was careful to slide his hands down her forearms and off the bandages. Realizing her struggle was pointless, she glared at him. "Please?" she spat.

"I just want to talk," he enunciated every syllable.

"Then talk," she retorted. "Let me go, Zuko!"

"I want you to listen to me."

"Let me go and I'll listen!" she argued.

Several long moments passed as the two siblings stared at each others' eyes, trying to read their intentions. Azula felt helpless; she could probably escape by kicking him in the gut, but knew she was at a severe handicap since he could still firebend. So she waited, hoping he would release his grasp.

She watched him inhale and exhale slowly, and then he opened his hands. Quickly pulling her arms to her chest, she fought back the urge to slap him or kick him below the belt. Knowing that would be futile, she plopped down on the couch, not looking at him, and pouted.

Zuko sat next to her, causing her to flinch. Narrowing her eyes at him, she saw that he wasn't trying to impose himself on her, but she was still uncomfortable interacting with him and couldn't help but feel afraid. She had rarely felt fear before her imprisonment, but now it was the norm.

"Azula, I'm worried about you," he began, and he did sound sincere.

She huffed in disbelief anyway.

"Your doctor told me you were doing a lot better," he said. "I was so relieved to hear that, but then I get a hawk saying you cut your..."

"I know what I did," she snapped. "You don't have to remind me." Azula shifted in her seat, turning her back to him. A single tear slid down her cheek.

"You could have really hurt yourself," he pointed out, raising his voice.

"Like you care," she answered, choking on a sob that was desperate to get out.

"Of course I care!" he yelled. "Do you think I'd be here if I didn't care? Do you think I would have put you in a hospital instead of a prison if I didn't care?"

"It's still a prison, Zuko!" she countered, turning to face him. "No matter how much you dress it up! I don't need to be lied to. You don't care about me, I don't really care about you either, so just GO!"

Azula could not restrain herself anymore. Her eyes were red from crying a steady stream of tears. She was lying, of course. She did care about him; she hated her brother more than anyone. Yet here he was trying to make himself out to be some kind of saint for locking her up. It sickened her.

Zuko's one perfect eye showed anger...and Azula was surprised to see he was hurt. Had she really cut him with her words? Or was he just pretending? She had always considered herself a "people person" because of how well she could read emotions, but that skill seemed to be failing her now.

"I do care about you, Sis," Zuko corrected calmly.

"DON'T CALL ME THAT!"

"Azula, I care about you," he continued. "I've never stopped caring about you. What with all the positive reports from your psychiatrist, and since you can't bend anymore..."

She threw him a piercing glare that made his eyes widen. "Thanks for reminding me, jerk," she interrupted spitefully.

"Um...I...I was thinking about bringing you back home," he stuttered to a finish.

"Liar," she guffawed.

"I'm not lying," he said. "But with this...incident...I'm not sure you're ready yet."

"What a surprise!" she exclaimed, throwing her arms up in the air. "I'm not crazy Zuko! Okay, maybe I lost my cool a year ago, but I'm not like that anymore! The only thing that makes me crazy is being locked up in here. You took away my royal standing, ruined my reputation by putting me in an asylum, and took away my bending from me. I have NOTHING, Zuko. I'm not a threat to anyone!"

There was so much bitterness in that rant that Azula almost hated herself for speaking her mind. How pathetic she had became, a shell of the woman she once was. She hung her head shamefully, hoping against hope that looking at her knees would somehow make those feelings go away.

"To anyone but yourself," he said in a disgusting matter-of-fact tone.

"Shut up," she deadpanned.

"Azula, I want you to promise me you won't do anything like this again," he said.

She couldn't help but laugh. "Promise you? Why would I do that? I don't owe you a damn thing, Zuko, least of all a promise that I'll be a good girl and behave myself."

"Watch your language," he chided.

Azula snorted. "Excuse me? 'Watch my language?' Seriously? What am I, five? And who do you think you are, my father?" she interrogated mockingly.

"Seeing as your father is a megalomaniac and a murderer, I hope not," Zuko snapped.

Azula pursed her lips. Part of her wanted to say something in her father's defense, but then, she didn't really care about him anymore. Ever since he sent the letter calling her "a disgrace and a failure" she had stopped worrying about his fate. So she kept silent on that matter.

"That doesn't mean you can take over," she said defiantly.

"Someone should," he said.

"I'll talk however I want."

He groaned. "Fine, I don't really care! I just want your word that you won't do anything to hurt yourself again. I don't want anything to happen to you!"

"I'm not promising anything," she answered, turning her head away and smiling. She was so glad that she could hurt her disowned brother in some way, even if she had no intention of doing what he asked her not to.

To her shock, Azula felt her body being moved against her will. She gasped as Zuko pulled her close to him, and then lowered her face-down over his knees. "What are you doing?" she screamed indignantly, trying to move away from him but blocked by his powerful arm holding her comparatively tiny frame near his body.

"I am going to force that promise out of you, Azula," he answered.

"What?" she demanded, turning her neck as far towards his direction as she could manage and sneering venomously. "Just how do you plan on doing that?"

Azula heard a sharp SMACK! At the same time, she felt a mild sting on the left side of her bottom. She yelped involuntarily at the contact, and realized exactly what the Fire Lord had in mind.

"Like this," he said, and she heard the same noise, felt the same sting, and yelped in the same way.

"No way," she whispered. "You can't do this, Zuko."

She heard two louder smacks and felt two harder stings, and yelped a little louder. "I can," he said, and he gave her two harder swats. She bit her lip, refusing to let those embarrassing noises leave her body again. "And I will," he continued, and he started to bring his hand down multiple times, faster and faster, causing Azula to curl her fingers and toes from the shock.

"I am TOO," she gasped from the sting of another swat. "OLD," she shut her eyes in response to another one. "for a SPANKING!" she snarled out and felt her knees and elbows bend.

The only answer she got was his hand striking the seat of her pants even harder.

"And YOU," she clenched her buttocks together, "have no authority," she pounded her fist on the couch as he smacked her again, "to spank ME! OW!" She growled, angry at herself for admitting that he was causing her pain.

"I'm the Fire Lord," he said, smacking her again. Azula's abs stretched, lifting her bottom off of his right knee. "I can do what I want," he informed her, and Azula snarled, only to yelp again when his hand struck her again.

"So you WANT to spank me, huh?" she managed to force out. Another smack made her dig her nails into the couch. "Some brother you are!" she spat, arching her back as the sting in her bottom continued to build.

"I don't want to," Zuko said, causing her to flail her legs lightly from another spank. "But I feel you need it," he said, and really started to pepper Azula with swats, making her kick her legs more furiously.

"I don't need to be spanked!" she yelled at the top of lungs, crashing back over his lap and gritting her teeth. Her eyes were watering, but she would not allow him to break her will. Azula was a fighter, even when she couldn't fight.

But with every fresh slap on her posterior, Azula squirmed a little more, closed her eyes a little tighter, and breathed a little deeper. Finally, she couldn't help herself. "Zuko, you're hurting me," she conceded softly, trying to stay under control. Her rear end was growing warmer and stinging more sharply with each passing second.

"That's kind of the idea, Sis," he answered, and continued to punish her.

"Zuuuukoooo!" she whined. "This isn't fair!" She couldn't believe herself; she may have been fifteen, but she certainly SOUNDED five now. "And don't call me that!" she repeated. "I'm not your sister anymore!"

To her surprise, he did stop, allowing Azula to catch her breath. She inhaled and exhaled slowly, cherishing each passing second that her bottom was not spanked. A few tears couldn't help but seep from her eyes.

Zuko sighed. "Azula, I don't really care whether this is fair or not right now!" Azula's face blushed with rage. "I just want you to promise me that you won't hurt yourself."

"YOU'RE hurting me, Zuko!" she yelled, hoping that his hypocrisy would get to him.

"That's different!" he argued.

"Yeah, it is!" she agreed. "It's worse! I have a right to do what I want to myself, but you have no right to do this to me! Let me go and leave me alone, NOW!" she lashed out at him, and started to pant loudly. The pain, the indignation, and the anger she felt was being poured out with every breath.

She heard Zuko take a deep breath. "I can see I'm not getting through to you," Zuko said. "I'm sorry about this, Azula, but you leave me no choice."

Gnashing her teeth and trying to figure out what the blazes he was apologizing for, Azula had a feeling that this trip across the Fire Lord's lap was not going to end yet.

Then, her eyes widened.

She felt his thumbnail lightly scratch the bare skin at the lowest part of her back, then felt a long line of cloth being raised from her body. Then, she felt the front half crumple as he pulled back her pants.

"Don't...you...dare!" she threatened.

She felt a mild snap as the pants were released and made contact with her upper thighs. She felt a flood of different emotions: anger, embarrassment, fear, and a certain thankfulness that her modesty was still protected by the pair of black panties she was wearing.

"Zuukoo, I'm warning you!" she bluffed, knowing there was nothing she could do to stop him.

His hand struck her backside again, and Azula gasped. She realized that her form fitting underwear was not going to cushion the blows at all. Soon, she was once again being spanked like a child. The sting had only just started to subside, and now he was igniting the flames anew, raining swat after swat across her vulnerable sitting place.

Azula's fury was growing as hot as her bottom was. "Stop it!" she ordered. "Stop it right now!"

But her commands fell on deaf ears. His arm did not stop swinging, and her bottom did stop stinging. "STOP!" she demanded again, and tried to force her way up, pushing with her hands and feet, but Zuko placed the full weight of his left arm against her back, pushing her back down. "STOOOP!" Her voice was losing it's authoritative tone, but his smacks lost nothing. She growled, and tears started to flow from her eyes, refusing to be stopped.

Azula kept pushing up, but he kept pushing her down. She could feel her pants sliding down her legs as she struggled, which mortified her. At last, the humiliation and the hurt was too much. She stopped fighting and allowed herself to fall across his thighs. "Stop," she whispered, but he didn't. "Stop," she said again, but his chastising hand kept falling.

"Stop, Zuko, PLEASE!" she whimpered, still having no effect on his resolve to keep spanking her. If she could focus on anything but the horrible burning sensations, she would have been irate at herself for begging, but she was running out of options and the pain was becoming unbearable.

Ultimately, her will broke. It was all too much. Loud, uneven cries escaped her lungs, dying to escape and let the world know that she was being hurt. Her eyes were red and moist, her mouth was spread wide as she wept. And she couldn't help but kick her legs and pound her fists, throwing a tantrum over her brother's lap. The once mighty Azula had been reduced to a little girl by the steady discipline of her older brother.

Eventually, Azula gathered enough of what was left of her pride and dignity to stop flailing around like a two-year old. If she was getting a spanking, she was going to take it like a woman and not a child. Forcing herself to hold still, she lay over his knees and do not flinch as he kept whaling on her. She allowed herself to cry and and didn't try to hold in her squeals, but she kept her body still and submitted to Zuko.

To her surprise, her surrender seemed to ease the pain of the ordeal. She still winced each time she heard the crack of his hand and couldn't help but tremble as her bottom was blistered. But gradually, her sobs started to subside and her tears abated. And somehow, her mind adapted to her situation. Azula was finding a clarity in the punishment, and one thought fought its way through the noise and the burn to let itself be heard.

I deserve this.

Azula could hardly believe her own thoughts. How could she possibly deserve this? What right did Zuko have to discipline her like a child? He had no right! It was absurd, and she put the thought out of her head, trying to focus on the loud noise of her spanking.

HER spanking? No, HIS spanking. In no way did she own this.

I deserve this.

There it was again, boring itself back in. Azula tried to disagree, but she couldn't. She had broken a mirror and slit her wrists in a fit of insane rage and disappointment at her life. She could have really been hurt, and she knew it. Frankly, she should still be in solitary and in that jacket, unable to harm herself. Finally, she found herself agreeing with Zuko's assertion that she needed help for her own safety. Fresh tears fell on the couch as she thought of nothing but her actions and her spanking.

HER spanking?

Yes, her spanking. The one she sorely, desperately needed, and compliantly accepted.

I deserve this.

Letting go of any inclination to fight or exhibit control, Azula went limp over his lap. She gave in to the spanking, let herself feel every bit of it's burning sting. Focusing on it, clinging to it, she could truly experience it. Her sobs grew louder and more frantic as her submission grew more complete.

"I'M SORRY ZUKO!" she exploded. "I shouldn't have cut myself! It was stupid and I'll never do it again! I PROMISE!" She could hardly fathom that those words were coming out of her mouth; they felt like they didn't belong to her, like somebody had turned her into a puppet and forced her to obey her brother.

For several seconds, she didn't even realize that he had stopped spanking her. The pain was so intense and she was so lost in her own thoughts that she just couldn't imagine it was over. Only when Zuko wrapped his arm around her head and lifted her up from his lap did she understand.

Still sobbing, she knelt next to him, looking him in his fierce, golden eyes. Tears were dripping from his right eye, while his scarred left one remained the same as ever. Touched that doing this to her had made him cry, Azula gulped. "I'm sorry. I promise I won't do anything like that again Zuko," she reiterated.

Zuko nodded. "Thank you Azula."

Nodding herself, she turned her attention to rubbing her burning posterior. She gasped; rubbing hurt almost as much as her brothers swats had. But she kept at it, and soon it started to soothe the sting.

"I'm sorry, Azula," Zuko admitted sheepishly. "I know it was probably way out of line, but..."

"No, I was out of line," she shut him down. "I understand, and I'm not angry."

To her surprise, Zuko threw his arms around her. She tensed up, not comfortable with being touched. She had never been a huggy person, but she did not protest this. Somehow, being wrapped in his arms made her feel safe, secure, and strangely positive about the future.

"I love you, Sis," he said.

To her shock, Azula didn't mind being called that. She felt closer to her brother now than she ever had. She smiled weakly, but couldn't bring herself to reciprocate the sentiment. But it meant a lot to her.

"Take care of yourself, okay?" he said, standing up and leaving her kneeling on the couch.

Azula looked up at him. "Or what? Are you going to spank me again?" she asked timidly.

"No," he shook his head. Azula felt a wave of relief, but strangely, couldn't help but wonder "What if I deserve it again?"

Zuko left out of the room and smiled before shutting the door. Azula once again smiled, but as soon as the door was closed, she threw herslef over the couch, pulled her panties down, and rubbed furiously.