Title: Backwater
Word Count: 306
Summary: As the water tribe conquers the Fire Nation Capital, her hate festers, and his faith in the Avatar does not waver. AU.
Written: 6/39/10
Posted: 11/9/10 (on FF.n)
Author's Note: Written for the Zutara fic meme (a-twisted-vine DOT livejournal DOT com SLASH 220191 DOT html). The anonymous prompt was "AU where the water tribes have monopolized the world instead of the fire nation, some encounter between the two with the hate/privilege reversed." Reviews are greatly appreciated.
"You think you're better than the rest of us? Think again, fire bender. You're not. How does it feel to have us backwater peasants riding the waves that devour your city?"
Her prisoner's eyes do not meet hers. He doesn't even look out the window to the streets of the Capital where the men of the Water Tribe, clad in their wolf-helms and painted faces, are marching through. If he looked past that, he would've seen what had once been the Port City now laying beneath the sea.
"Look at your precious Capital, Fire Prince. What good do your war factories do you now?"
The prince does not struggle, not even to ease the chafing of the chains against his wrists. He isn't even afraid. How typical, how arrogant. She wants to know the source of his ill-found bravery, so she can crush it as the polar leopards of the South do to tiger seal skulls.
"Why aren't you afraid?" She crosses her arms, feeling for the water in the room.
At last, the prince lifts his eyes to hers and speaks, "The Avatar –"
The anger and hurt in her boils. "The Avatar is dead! Where do you think he was when you people began to kill all the waterbenders? Where was he when we began to die of the poisoned waters that came from your war factories?" She grits her teeth. "No. There is no Avatar." Clenching her fists, the words climb out her throat with a roar, "I will end you, just like you ended my mother!"
Water explodes from the vases lining the tables, sending pieces of sharp ceramic across the room. She is unmoved as shards rip her cheeks. Jagged pieces slice his arms, and he hisses at the pain. She smiles beautifully at his pain, the cuts across her face already healing.