This is my newest creation? For a while I've had this story shoved in my pocket, so to speak and tonight, I saw the movie that inspired me to write it and thought, why not publish this dang thing already? So, I hope you enjoy. This was based off the movie, 'The Patriot' and is coinsidentally named, 'The Patriot' and I hope you enjoy this. This story will have many different twists and turns to it, it will not, as all my stories, follow exactly the path of the movie. It will be original, yet not at the same time.
Please, read and enjoy. Let me know what you think, if it is something worth continuing. I've had this nag for combining historical legends with this pairing...why? No clue, but I am in love with history. Also, this weekend, I have been in a writing frenzy, again why? No clue. But I hope you enjoy this tale and let me know what you guys think. This is one of those stories that depends greatly on its readers/reviewers. If you like it, love it, hate it, tell me. Your thoughts do mean something!
This first chapter is in first person, from Katara's point of view. Enjoy! (I think I've said that a million times already!)
Canons roared with such sunder, the earth trembled in their wake. The simplistic chandelier shook softly, the flames flickering as if stroked by the breeze. Only on this night, the air was till, the atmosphere consumed by a thick fog, lifting above the summer crops. War was upon us, it had been ever since the defiant act of the revolutionaries. To spit in the face of King Ozai of England was treacherous, an act that would not go unpunished.
The master hadn't joined us for dinner. I watched over his children as they ate silently, noticing the small flickering of their eyes from one to the other as the sounds of war drew nearer. My heart thudded wildly in my chest as I placed a comforting hand on Lee, Jyro's second oldest son. All throughout the course of their meal, it was Lee who seemed to be more interested in the occurrences outside the plantation home than the dinner that was placed before him. I smiled tenderly down at him, trying to calm the anxiety that raged within him. He not but a year my junior and I was looking after him and his siblings as if I were their own mother. His eldest brother, Zuko was only two years my senior and the moment he had turned eighteen, enlisted in the revolutionaries military.
I remembered when the family and I had left the plantation for Charles Town to visit the children's aunt Wu while their father was summoned to a towns meeting. Revolutionaries had gathered to convince several of the state's leaders that war with England was inevitable and the only way to separate ourselves from a tyrant three thousand miles away was to act in war. My master, Jyro had been against the idea of war. He declared that he was a father and that he had no right to openly choose the fate of his fellow townsmen or his children. Several of the town's leaders had been upset by his declaration. He was a man who was once fervent in the military. He was a captain far beyond his years in his youth, who now was determined to be a stalemate in the actions that would determine the future of this new breeding country, America.
I recalled the words Jyro had so openly stated in front of the entire town's council the day we were in Charles Town. Lee was kind enough to reenact such a…brilliant moment of the master's. He said that Jyro stood tall and proud as he approached several of his fellow councilmen and stated, "What point is there to break ties with a Tyrant three thousand miles away, only to be ruled by three thousand Tyrants one mile away?" Those words bore permanent wholes in my brain. There was a point to his madness. But it was after such boldness to reject the idea of a new country, a new America, that Zuko, Jyro's eldest enlisted. It was his own way of a personal rebellion against his father and the moment Zuko signed his life over to the cause, he was no longer his father's little boy. He was a man.
"Katara," Azula's soft voice called to me, her eyes glancing wearily up at me. She was only sixteen years old and yet, she was much more mature than she appeared. War had changed her, war changes all, but it seemed that it affected her far more than it had her siblings. Her mother had died when she was only a little girl, raised by a slave, me, who was only three years her senior. It had been a difficult patch for her, for me. I didn't know the first thing about raising children, but, with the help of my master, I was able to connect with the children in their time of need. Not as a motherly figure, as I am now, but as a friend, someone who understood their loss, their pain. I smiled with as much tenderness as I could as I rounded the table, kneeling myself before her.
Small black locks littered her face, with a simple brush of my fingers, they were gone, "Yes, Azula?"
A soft sigh escaped her lips she played with her food on her plate, shifting it around in small circles, over and over. For a moment she glanced my way, then looked back down at her plate with a heavy huff, "Where's father?"
My heart tightened slightly. To be honest, I didn't know where the master had gone. I only knew that he had not attended dinner. Last I saw him, he was out in the barn, attempting at making another rocking chair…every time he failed miserably at making such a delicacy.
"I don't know Azula, last I saw him he was in the barn," I began, but movement in the hallway caught my attention. A man staggered towards the dining hall, blood coating his white cotton shirt. The shadow of the hallway casted across his face, but his eyes gleamed in the darkness. They were so familiar. Slowly I moved away from the table, padding softly towards the doorway, watching as he merely stood there, as if waiting for me. I wiped my hands with the makeshift apron that wrapped around my waist, resting gently on my skirt. I was surprised that the children didn't see him, but I suppose it was due to the fact that the doorway was sealed slightly, a small crack about the width of a man's hand being the only opening. Perhaps the only reason why I knew he was there was because I happened to look up, or perhaps because I felt an eerie presence of someone's eyes watching us. Whatever it was, I noticed him and I would confront him, but not before the children. I didn't want to alert them, or scare them.
Suddenly, the cocking sound of a hammer caught not only my attention and the attention of the man, but it also caught the children's undivided attention. The small gasps made me tear my eyes away from the scene in the hall, and quickly comfort them.
"Turn around slowly," I heard the master's rugged voice command the stranger.
Looking up, I watched as the stranger turned away from me and the children, staggering slightly with a disgruntled groan, "Father," he breathed out helplessly and I suddenly heard a flurry movement in the hall, watched as the master now held the man who had nearly collapsed. For the first time since I caught sight of him, I saw his face revealed by the candle light of the dining room.
"Zuko," his name escaped my lips helplessly as the children flung from their chairs and bolted for the hallway.
Jyro stood, wrapping Zuko's arm around his shoulders, "Katara," his voice called to me, "the children," he didn't need to say any more. I exited the dining room, my arms encompassing the smaller three, rushing them up the stairs.
"Children come," I called to Lee and Azula, knowing that I could not herd them like cattle.
Azula and Lee followed me quickly up the stairs, or so I thought. As I took the younger children up to bed to prepare them for sleep, I noted that all were present except for Lee. I took a deep breath as I helped Ani change into her night gown, and Tero and Chen in theirs. Azula helped put Ani to bed as I rounded the two boys up and shuffled them to their room.
"Goodnight," I whispered tenderly as I bent over, my lips grazing their foreheads.
They smiled up at me as they curled up underneath their blankets, "Goodnight, Katara," they whispered back. I stood after adjusting the blankets underneath their chins, before blowing out the lone candle that lit the room. Slowly I closed the door behind me, hearing their voices carry soft whispers to one another.
Slowly I peered into Azula and Ani's room, watching as Azula tucked little Ani into bed, whispering tenderly to her. Praying perhaps and I wished to not bother them. So, I turned away, making my way down the steps where I ran into Lee sitting there, listening to Master Jyro and young Master Zuko's conversation.
My hand came down on his shoulder firmly and with a pleading look, I wished him to bed. With an apprehensive gaze, he sighed heavily before standing, meeting me face to face. He nodded respectfully to me before trudging up the stairs to his room in silence. After a moment or two, I stood there on the stairs, listening to Zuko's painful gasps and his father's scowling remarks. Jyro hadn't appreciated Zuko's rebellious actions, but there was a hint of tenderness in his voice when he reprimanded Zuko.
Carefully I walked down the steps, my hand gripping firmly onto the railing as I met with the leveled floor. The light from the room where Zuko was being tended to lit up my face halfway as I peered in.
"Master," I called softly, pressing myself into the room, "the children have been put to bed," for a moment I glanced over at Zuko, seeing golden gaze brighten at the sight of me. A soft smile, despite the pain that consumed his body, graced his lips. I loved seeing his smile, the way it made me melt inside and my heart flutter uncontrollably. I felt like a silly girl in love rather than a slave serving her master.
"Is there anything you require of me?" I asked hesitantly.
Jyro glanced between Zuko and I, sighing heavily before pushing himself from his stool, "Tend to his wounds," he was short in his command, "I've cleaned what I could, but there are still wounds to be tended to."
I nodded as he brushed past me, giving his son one long lasting look over his shoulder before disappearing behind the closed door. For a moment I pressed my hands down against my skirt, straightening any flaws it may have held before walking towards Zuko on the bed, my hand dipping into the pot filled with blood soaked water. I pulled out the heavy rag, weighed down by the mass amounts of water that were absorbed in its embrace. My tattered, weathered hands wrung the rag until it had very little water to give up before taking it to Zuko's pale chest, caressing his wounds gently.
I felt his eyes upon me, watching me steadily as I tended to his cuts and scrapes carefully. The wound that had been inflicted by the bullet had already been well dressed and cleaned. The bullet lied not only a few inches away from the bucket of water in a small tin pan. Sighing, after several moments of silence, I glanced up at him to see his eyes locked on me as if he hadn't seen me in years. To be truthful, it had been two years since we had laid eyes on one another, but not once did we miss a beat in writing to one another. He had matured greatly since we had last seen one another. He had become stronger, taller, leaner, but still retained a muscular tone to his body. His face was thinner now, more mature than what it had been when he left and his eyes, still smoldering with emotions that I could not explain. I wondered how much I too had changed since we last saw one another, but decided not to dwell on such thoughts as I continued to tend to his wounds.
It was his voice that startled me, breaking the silence that rested between us, "It's nice to see you again, Katara," it was low and rugged, much like his father's, but there something about it that made her weak in the knees. Luckily she was sitting on the bedside, so collapsing wouldn't be possible.
"As it is you, young master," I remembered my respectful teachings. After all, he was still the son of my master, no matter how close we had grown during our youth. He was a freed man and I a slave. When I looked up at him as I drew my hand away, I noted the disappointment etched into his features, and I quickly wondered if I had missed a wound perhaps. Carefully I dipped the cloth back into the bucket before pulling it back out and wringing it dry. I examined his torso carefully and began lightly grazing it over his sculpted chest. I hadn't missed anything, so I didn't understand the pained look that crossed his features.
Slowly I began to pull my hand away, but his calloused, blood stained hand reached out quickly, his fingers winding tightly round my wrist. I watched, with a hitched breath as he pulled my hand closer towards him, pulling the cloth from my grasp. His fore finger traced the lines of my palm as he eased it open. Such a simple act caused my heart to flutter and I couldn't help but blush when he pulled it to his lips, their soft tenderness grazing my flesh. My breathing became shallow as I slowly pulled my hand from his grasp, clearing my throat as I placed the rag into the bucket.
"Is there anything else you need young master?" I asked hesitantly.
Again his features were etched with an emotion that I couldn't quite place, but I decided to cover my own emotions with a placid, obeying mask. Zuko licked his lips slightly as his teeth bore into his bottom lip, but after a moment he gave a heavy sigh before shaking his head at me, "No, thank you Katara."
I stood, smoothing out my dress before folding my hands before me, bowing slightly, "Goodnight, young master," slowly I turned away from him, my fingers grasping hold of the door handle.
"Goodnight, Katara." I smiled to myself as I heard the way he spoke my name, before pushing myself out into the hall, my back pressing firmly against the door that separated me from Zuko. After a moment or two of adjusting myself, I pulled away from the door, my hands absentmindedly reaching up to my braided bun before walking further down the hall to my sleeping quarters.
But, before I had the chance to do anything to prepare for bed, the sound of canons rattled my mind. The house shook slightly and I could see the flickering flashes of light exploding through the thick fog that rested atop the crops. My heart thudded wildly in my chest, they were so close! I turned on my heel, running straight into master Jyro, swallowing my scream quickly. He pulled me down the hallway to the front door. There we witnessed the horrid scenes of battle. Blue, like the color of a man's veins in his body ran through the crops, headed west, running away from something. Red, like the color of a man's blood chased after those in blue. Gunshots were fired, canons were unleashed, and the agonizing screams of death and desperation filled the night air. My thoughts suddenly swam towards the children! I didn't want them to see this; I didn't want them to be alone up there either.
Quickly I ran from the front porch up the stairs and into the girls' bedroom. Lee, Chen and Tero were huddled together with Azula and Ani, staring out the window desperately watching the battle below.
"Children," I chided, "come away from there," I waved my hand towards me, commanding them to draw their attention from the scene outside.
After several minutes, I had them all snuggled together in one bed, singing a soft tune to them, trying to lull them to sleep. Once the younger children had fallen victim to slumber, I noted that both Lee and Azula were still awake and motioned them to follow me. Slowly they pried themselves from the bed, creeping away from the children as they slept soundly. They followed me down the stairs and out onto the porch. There we found Zuko and Jyro standing there, watching the scene before them.
"Katara," the master called to me without even looking at me, "Lee, Azula, prepare bandages and fresh water. The wounded will need tending too."
So, what did you think guys?