A/N: I don't own ATLA, that is my life's dream. And I am in no way glorifying slavery or using propaganda or fantasies to justify the abominable practice. It is merely a creative utensil in my literary toolbox. Entyways, I came up with this bit. Enjoy!
Chapter one: Auction
I yawned and tightened the hood on my lacey bonnet. It was getting quite chilly, though this is usual weather for early November. The filthy lot caught my eyes and bile rose in my throat; truly a disparaging sight, they were. I mean, come now, did they have to present themselves as such swine? couldn't they have freshened up just a little?
I sighed and spotted my father, sweat on his brow and persistence in his eyes, standing near the front of the small stage where the slaves stood. I could tell he was still angry at me for setting my last two slaves free, but honestly, what was a decent woman to do? I couldn't stand the sight of those desolate children, so I manumitted them as soon as I could. Now daddy had to buy another, and I hope he will pick a girl. They're much easier to work with. I lean on my knees and lower my head again, bored. I hope he hurries up.
Finally, after I've resorted to picking at my nails and blue dress, he comes lumbering back with a…boy dragging after him. I narrow my eyes but my father raises a hand to keep my silenced "Don't start, Katara! I've had a long day" my shoulders droop, but I glare at the young man. His shoulders also descend so low they're almost in line with his bare feet. There is so much dirt on his pale skin that I'd have mistaken him for a water tribesman at first glance. He is truly the image of slum…that is until I see his eyes. His left eye has been singed a horrid burgundy color, dimming down to a soft rose color around the perimeter of the organ. His liquidy iris, full of pain, anger, exhaustion, entrances me with its pure gold hue; this may be his only good quality.
It doesn't take long for him to break the spell and let himself into the back of our wagon, and I take my place beside my daddy in the carriage. It isn't long before we arrive home, and I love our home. It is nothing like our grandmother's home in the Pole, but it has grown on me. I step down in my dusty black boots and stomp towards the white porch leading to our huge house. I can't help but smile at the large mass of green surrounding our front yard, like a grass moat around our white stump of a castle, with our dingy porch as a drawbridge. The permanent house slave, Ty Lee, bounced past me with a grin. "I hope he's cute!" I hear her gush, probably talking to my grouch of a brother who inched behind her. "Is it safe to come near? Or is there a high voltage danger within a ten-foot radius?" he teases. I frown and give him a shove, and he laughs, his blue eyes twinkling. "What, baby sister, I was only teasing! What has you in the snake's gullet today?" I sighed "Dad got another slave, a real slime this time. Some hideous snip of a man" I grimace, but he grins "Great! 'bout time he got another man on the scene!" I shake my head in disdain as he rushes outside to meet our father. I don't know why on Earth he would take to befriending someone so beneath us, but that's just how weird he is.
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The day drags on until I eventually have to face the fact that the new slave is, indeed, mine. I must occupy him as to prevent an idle nuisance, or so my daddy says. He's sitting quietly in his study while I have to go out to the shacks to see about the scourge. I pull on my baby blue coat and leave out the back door into a not-so-handsome backyard that houses two small shacks; the slave is in the second one. I approach the makeshift door tentatively, as if I'm about to encounter a wild animal. I might as well be. I think grimly. Hastily, I push it open and see the boy curled up on his side on a few bales of hay. I nudge his torso with my foot, then harder when he doesn't move. He stirs, and stretches awake. "What do you want?" he snaps. I blink back my disbelief at his audacity "I'm coming to retrieve you for your instruction" I seethe. He stands, and looms over me a good two or three inches. "I'm at your service, master" his tone is suddenly docile. "Why the sudden transformation?" I ask. He shrugs "I have no reason to be disrespectful towards you and every reason to be the opposite. My mother told me how you freed your first two slaves, and how kind you were to them. I may be hoping high, but someday, you'll do the same for me" They were children, and I'd freed them because I didn't have use of them; completely selfish reasons, and as for kind…maybe on a good day, I am. Instead of admitting this, I smile warmly and offer "I'll think about it" but really, I don't know. I could have some fun with this.
Okay, so there's the first chapchap. I hope that wasn't too offensive for anyone. And I know I'm putting Katara in a dim light, but I must make her role in this fic believable. Please review, guys! I'd love to hear how I'm doing and what you think of it!
