He took one tentative step forward and kept a wary eye on the girl standing twenty yards away
He takes one tentative step forward and keeps a wary eye on the girl standing twenty yards away.
Six months ago I wouldn't have this problem. One foot overtakes the other.
Six months ago he had been a prince (exiled, but a prince none-the-less) in charge of a ship, with a full compliment of men and weaponry at his disposal. Six months ago he had been a man with a mission, fully confident that his mission was righteous as were his actions. Six months ago he would have been able to walk up to anyone, of any nationality, with shoulders back, his head held high, and looked them square in the eye as he spoke to (commanded) them.
Back then confrontation had been his forte. His royal upbringing and natural tenacity merging together so that he never backed down in the face of his enemy (although bowing down and pleading before my father is a different story altogether).
He eyes the distance he has left to cross - ten yards.
Six months however can be a very long time depending on the vantage point. The battles he's fought (physically, mentally) both big and small have been enough to whittle away all the things he once held true. His decisions and their ultimate consequences (that incessant yearning for my father's approval) had forced him to strip down everything that made him who he was and see them for the lies (the self deception) and manipulations they were. He had been laid bare and had not liked what he found. At least my pride and my honor are no longer rooted in propaganda and falsehood.
Never in his life had he been nervous about having to speak to someone. Well, there was that "date" with Jin. He quickly redefines his line of thought. He had never before felt the need to revise and refine and practice a conversation; to review every possible angle and explanation as if were battle strategy, before actually having the conversation.
Five yards to go, and he is painfully aware that instinct has made him search the area for the best positions of offence and defence. He is a tentative ally to her at best, even after his help in extracting Suki and her father from prison. Their interactions have become less forced and somewhat more amiable, but conversation still comes haltingly and is sporadically spiked by her barbed wit.
He can still pull off that princely bearing when he speaks, but these days (right now when faced with her) his voice no longer holds the confidence (arrogance) it once did, and his shoulders fight the strain of a shame that is far heavier than his old armor.
When he is within arms length he calls to her, and she spins to face him, her own instincts coming into play as her arms rise to attack what has startled her. He grabs her wrists firmly (can they really be this small?) to keep her from striking, and remembers a night when they were in this same position. I'll save you from the pirates, but can you save me from myself? Her blue eyes become a subtle rainbow of emotion in which he finds himself lost, his purpose momentarily forgotten. She blinks and he regains himself.
"Katara, we need to talk."
this is my first story for ATLA so forgiveness pls for any mistakes.
dis: story is mine altho the characters are not