'i am proud of you Prince Zuko.' - And there it was, what he had always wanted, the thing he had fought and worked and suffered for; his pride, his honour, the man wreathed by a barrier of flickering fire's voice should have been like the sun after a thousand nights, but it did not feel the way Zuko had always imagined.

Zuko did not feel the honour, and the pride that a Fire Nation Prince should feel.

He felt like a traitor.

Perhaps that was merely because of the lie that had got him those words, that is was not, in fact, him that had destroyed the Avatar, but his sister, whose lie confused him.

He kept his head down, his hair in the top knot he had not worn for many months.

'To honour your return i have a gift for you, Prince Zuko,' Zuko raised his head, wondering as to what his father intended to give him. Fire Lord Ozai raised his hand to his left, as though revealing some great magic trick, or rather, his 'gift'. Abruptly a door to the side of the throne room clattered and shook, cries of pain were heard, they swung open grandly - although this was diminished when the two guards in full fire nation uniform entered in terrible synchronisation, dragging something large, and struggling behind them. Zuko craned his neck to the disturbance.

What the soldiers were dragging was a women.

'A prisoner of war, a southern beauty, for your personal enjoyment.' Zuko was abruptly certain he knew who the prisoner was, though a feeling in his stomach begged Agni it was not true. In the low lighting and the vague flickering flames he saw only a great amount of curling hair, dark skin and long, lithe muscles, surrounded by very little, very provocative and immensely flattering clothes on her shapely body; deep blue and made of silk and net they were the clothes that simply stated what her purpose was.

She was forced to kneel before both of them though she fought against it; the soldiers wrenched at the chains at her wrists and she was pulled to the floor.

'She is yours,' Fire Lord Ozai crooned proudly.

'Good luck with that one.' Came the musical, and furious voice of the slave girl, he saw a devious smile, her teeth flashing in the fire light, though her eyes were still down, and she wrenched her chained arms back, causing the guard that stood on the chains to be pulled to the floor, with a loud crunch and clatter of armour, she spun her legs around, catching the other guards feet, he too tumbled to the ground. Zuko could not help but smile, if the slave girl was who he believed her to be there would be many injuries around those that attempted to restrain her. With a swirl of her delicate dress she had reached a hand to the door before Zuko had time to even stand.

But Ozai was faster, the door was a blaze as her hand touched it, and she stepped back, although her face clearly showed she had no intention of giving up; in a second she had regained her composure and kicked out at the approaching guards, Ozai did not stand, clearly amused by the display, and Zuko did nothing to stop it, getting more and more certain as she continued fighting that this was indeed the water bender he knew all too well. But he would not be certain, or rather, he would not allow himself to be certain, that this was Katara, the defiant, devious, beautiful Water Bender that he had met in the crystal catacombs, and several times before, the girl that had been both friend and foe. Her eyes snapped to his, although so far away and in such low light they appeared to flicker gold like a Fire Nation girl, her eyes brows arched and she ran full pelt to him, Ozai, of course knew her plan and shot harsh streams of fire after her but she dodged each one with ease, and he could not at first see the plan she had formed, he had assumed she was headed to the other door, although that would be foolish because many hundreds of guards and servants were that way, but she stopped, skidding slightly on the polished floors, and she was behind him, she threw her bound hands over his head and the chain cut into his neck, cutting of the air, his father stood up furiously, his hands crackling with lightning.

Abruptly Zuko was afraid for the girl, his fathers temper would obliterate her in seconds, but she seemed passed caring, as though she would rather be dead than imprisoned, that sounded like Katara. She did not yield the pressure on his neck, although if she wanted to make a point it seemed to Zuko she could pull a lot harder if she wished Ozai to fear for his son's life - that sounded like Katara again, filled with vengeance, passion and fury, but never wanting to truly hurt anyone.

'Do not be so foolish, Girl.' Ozai's voice rang with fury.

'I have a name. I am not some slave girl, brought here for any princes enjoyment,' she tugged harder on the chains around his neck.

Ozai was mere seconds form aiming a deadly blast of lightning at the girl, and Zuko stepped in, Fire Bending the metal cuffs around her wrists to burn, she lost her grip around his neck just for a moment, and on the next Zuko pulled her entire body over his shoulders, she fell to the floor as a column behind both of the exploded in a burst of lightning. She glared at him but did not waste her time, she grabbed his ankle and pulled him down to, propelling herself up as she headed for the burnt and blackened door which had stopped flaming and was merely smoking. She leapt through the hole, and she was gone from sight. But not from Father's, he sent a great while of fire followed her and dragged her back; he heard a horrible scream and he smelt the familiar scent of burnt flesh; she was dragged back by the guards, a long, large and fresh burn wrapped around her neck like a gruesome accessory. She panted, her eyes closed, sparkling tears of pain and defeat rolled down the eyes he still had not seen, Ozai stood, angry, and strode over to her, where she had been forced to kneel.

Ozai grabbed her chin and forced her eyes up to his;

'I would not try something so foolish again, Girl.' He turned to leave, before he seemed to rethink it, he grabbed the charm around her neck and ripped it away, dropping it on the floor in front of her eyes,

'Water tribe trinkets are forbidden to slaves.'

He stamped down on whatever it was. She let out a soft moan of pain, and she was dragged away from the throne room. Ozai turned to Zuko,

'i shall have her placed in your room,' he said angrily 'and restrained.' he added with a cruel smile.

'Thank you, Father, she is a fine prize.' He kept his eyes down.

Zuko bowed, and Ozai strode from the room, his cloak billowing. Zuko turned to leave as well, but first he looked at the necklace Ozai had destroyed. And when he saw the shattered pendant on the blue silk, he knew quite well who it belonged to. He gathered up the ribbon, and the two pieces of the pendent, fitting the together to form the pattern of crashing waves. And he knew, beyond certainty, beyond any wish or addled mind or foolish desire, who the water tribe girl was; Because he knew that necklace.

It was Kataras.