Storm

(n) a violent disturbance in the atmosphere

They sent her away to keep the world together safe when she was seven. It wasn't just that she was the daughter of a Chief, nobility in her own right, or that her eyes were the blueblueblue of the Water Tribes. It wasn't even that water played at her hands like a horn at a musician's lips. She knew her father hated to do what must be done, and she clung to him when she said goodbye, already missing the snow and ice. Sokka wrapped his arms around hers in a quick hug ("Write to me about the food – no, no, send samples – and no boys"). Her mother gave her the necklace, and she held onto it tightly as the ship brought her away.

It was a peace offering. Give the Fire Nation the last waterbender of the South, a noble daughter of the Earth Kingdom (because they wanted nothing of a crazy king) and a princess of the North. They asked nothing of the Air Nomads. There weren't any left.

"Am I getting married then?" Katara had asked her mother, biting her lips. "I wanted to get married here."

"I don't know," Kya smiled kindly as she bent down so she was level with her daughter. "They might. But remember, be strong. Have courage. Don't forget who you are."

The icy wind breezed back her dark hair, snow dusting her slender hands, and Katara doubted she could ever forget. Still, she clutched to her mother's necklace just in case the sea swept her identity away along with her home.

: :

The crew kept an eye on her, but she was young enough for them not to be cruel. They didn't like her on deck, not when she was surrounded by the sea. Katara loved it. She could feel the sting of the ocean tugging at her skin, her bones and then her heart thudding in her chest. Midway through the journey, she stole a sword.

She had hidden it till she could sneak on deck at night. La, it was heavy. Somehow in the rush of adrenaline, it had weighed nothing in her hands. Now she could hardly move it, let alone bring it down in the definite strokes she had seen the soldiers practice.

"What are you doing?" The voice was curious not cruel. She hated it anyways.

"What does it look like?" She snapped, tightening her clumsy grip on the sword.

Prince Zuko. He was Fire Nation in a way the soldiers and sailors weren't with the gold of his eyes and the royal crests and gold he wore. From what she heard, he had been required to come to gain experience. His sister had been allowed on the other ship for Princess Yue.

He was defensive now. "It looks like you're breaking the rules." He wrinkled his nose as he looked her over. "And looks like you don't even know how to fight."

She was indignant. "I do too!"

"You're a water tribe peasant," he told her condescendingly.

"You're a boy," she glared, hands trembling with the effort it took to keep the sword up. "And my name is Katara."

He noticed. "Put that down."

She frowned. "I don't have to listen to you. You're not an elder."

"I'm a prince," he told her haughtily.

She shrugged. "So?"

To the seven year old's satisfaction, he looked flustered at the question. "So I'm royal."

"So?" This worked with almost everyone but Sokka. Sokka was too idiotic for it to work. A sudden bout of homesickness swept over her at the thought of him, and the blade clattered to her feet. While their bickering had been unheard under the crashing of the ocean, the metal against wood wasn't. Every soldier's ears were trained for the sound of a blade, and two swooped down almost at once.

Katara's breath caught in her throat as one asked, "what's going on?"

"I… " Katara had never liked lying. It felt wrong. Only she was willing to do what it took.

"I was showing the peasant how to use a sword properly," Zuko's words were too haughty for her to be grateful, and she didn't have to feign the glare she threw them.

The other soldier nodded. "As you wish, your highness." The amusement was palpable on her features, but both soldiers left them alone.

"You can thank me," Zuko said.

She almost didn't. Then she remembered what her mother said, and she reached out to catch his hand, squeezing it because that was who Katara was. Kind. "Thank you, Zuko."

He almost looked startled, yellow eyes too bright for the night. "Prince Zuko," he corrected.

Diplomatic, she decided to ignore that. "Will you though?" She asked, hand still tangled in his. He didn't shake her off.

"Will I what?" He pushed a hand through his dark hair.

"Teach me how to use a sword."

"No, of course not," he pulled back, kind of defiant, kind of unsure. "You're the enemy."

Katara scowled at him. "I'm going to bed."

"Well, so am I." He turned around and strode off before she could which was so annoying. She just knew he did it on purpose. She huffed, turning to do the same, only bending down to take the blade with her.

: :

They were getting closer to land, and Agni, Zuko was glad. The sea rocked under his feet, and he had spent the first week pretending he wasn't sick. He brought his hands down in a deft motion, completing the basic form before pivoting to try it again. By the time they got to the Fire Nation, he would be better. Then Father would see, and he would be proud.

As fire burst from his palms, red-gold, he ignored the blue eyes watching him. He also ignored his Uncle talking to her. It probably was about tea. Or something probably boring. He punched out another flame, pretending he didn't care. As he spun, movements sharp and concise, he caught a word of their conversation. Turtleducks. What was his uncle doing talking to the waterbender about turtleducks?

He clasped his hands together, ending the form. Zuko bowed to the sun in thanks to Agni before he crossed the deck to where his uncle was. He ignored the girl. "When do we get home?"

"Soon, Prince Zuko," Uncle Iroh told him, a warm smile crinkling the creases on his face. "We reach the Earth Kingdom before sunset. I am told Lady Bei Fong is sweet of tongue and heart. Perhaps you'll make a friend."

Katara snorted.

Zuko continued to ignore her. "Perhaps Lu Ten will get married."

Uncle Iroh's smile dissipated into a thoughtful frown. Then he smiled. "Grandchildren!"

Zuko slumped his head against the ledge of the boat, gold eyes staring off into the horizon and groaned.

Katara giggled.

: :

A blind-eyed (she didn't like to call it green when she didn't know what green was) five year old brushed her hair out of her eyes and wondered if it was appropriate to pack one of her trunks with mud.

Then she wondered if she cared.

a/n

This is completely and utterly impulse, so any thoughts or feedback is more than loved. I'll try to update frequently, but it's a bit drabble and a bit chapter, so we'll see. Reviews are better than cupcakes. Thanks loves!