War Crimes
She had been in here for weeks until she had a visitor. Hands undid her blindfold, and as she blinked rapidly to clear her vision, she realized that she knew those hands, knew that scar, she gave him that scar on his right hand.
"Zuko," she acknowledged.
They sat silent for a moment, him staring down intently at her, her gaze off to the side.
"You've changed, peasant."
"I know," she said quietly, biting her lower lip as she mulled over this new bit of trivia. So this is what Zuko looked like then, she mused, after years of hard battle; hard battle against her and what she stood for, unfortunately.
"I'm sorry," he finally said. "I'm sorry for what I have done, and what I now have to do." Katara nodded, and shut her eyes for a moment.
"They don't know you're here, do they?" she asked him as he unlocked the thick handcuffs which bound her hands. She massaged her sore wrists, and then looked at Zuko as he lowered himself to the ground next to her.
"No. They don't."
"Am I going to be—" she stopped. "Never mind, I think I know."
"Your sentence and execution will be at mid-day tomorrow, heralding the victory," Zuko hoarsely said. "I have to watch."
"There's no way out this one, is there?" she said a bit rhetorically. He shook his head.
"It all… it all could have been different if you hadn't," her voice hitched, "betrayed us."
Zuko stood up, stiff from war wounds he was still recovering from.
"I have to go."
Katara nodded absently.
"I'll… see you at mid-day. Goodbye General Zuko."
The door shut with a click.