Heavy Heart
By: Caiyus
Fandom:Avatar the Last Airbender
Raiting:T for now, possible M for mature themes (child abuse, slavery, etc)
Pairing: Zuko/Katara, possible Aang/Katara
Blanket Disclaimer: I don't, and never will, own Avatar the Last Airbender. (I'm not creative enough to think of plotlines, anyway...) I try to stray from using OCs, but the characters that you don't recognize are mines (unless you know less about Avatar than I do?)
Author's Note: This is going to contain slightly dark themes, but it will all get better! Ahurhurhur. And I apologize for any OOC-ness, but keep in mind that I'm trying my best. C: Byebye Oh, and let's all pretend Azula's away... (Permanently?) If I can figure out a way to fit her into the story, she'll make an appearance, but until then... Nope. P:
Summary: Sold into slavery by her own parents, Katara has gone from house to house within the Fire Nation. When she gets bought by the Fire Lord himself, Katara thinks she's lucked out. However, upon meeting the Fire Lord's cocky, arrogant son, she's begun to think otherwise. Though he treats her like an animal, why does he look at her with such longing eyes?
I still got chills every time I thought of that night. It was such a long time ago--almost eleven years ago--I'm still surprised I can still recall every little detail. I suppose it's only logical, though... It was the most important event in my life.
I was six years old when it happened. I remember my real family well. We weren't well off, but I never thought we were that poor. My father had died of a heart attack a year ago, so now my family only consisted of my older brother, my mother, and I.
It was an especially cold night I remember--colder than it had been in months. Perhaps it was destiny's way of foreshadowing the coldness that would enter my life that very night.
We had a lavish meal that night. There were generous cuts of the best fish, some new rice, and even some slivers of pork and beef.
"Why do we have such good food tonight? Are we celebrating something?" I asked, innocently munching on my rice and meat.
I was too innocent to take the silence of my mother and brother as anything more suspicious than normal. Perhaps I would have eventually picked up some weird vibes if a knock on the door hadn't interrupted our lovely meal.
"A visitor!" I said excitedly, smiling with joy. It was rare for anyone to come and visit us, but when someone did, I enjoyed it.
Maybe it was then when I realized something was going on, something very wrong. I noticed it when my brother, Sokka, started to cry. Usually, if one of us cried in my mother's presence, she would slap us until we stopped. This rule was more extreme for Sokka, considering he was a couple of years older than I was and he was a male. Instead of getting up to hit him, tonight she just shifted her weight in her seat.
The knocking on the door grew louder. I watched my mother place down her bowl and chopsticks gracefully and get up; I remember that she never made eye contact with me. She reached the door and opened it.
Into our house stepped an average-sized man. He looked like he hadn't bathed or shaved in weeks. I remember wondering briefly if he was going to be my new father, and if we were going to be a happy family again. Could I have been farther from the truth?
He walked into our dining room and looked at me. "Is this her?" He asked in a deep, gruff voice, a voice I would never forget, no matter how desperately I wanted to.
My mother nodded, keeping her eyes glued to the wooden floor. The stranger stepped forward, then reached out his hand and grabbed my wrist and pulled me to my feet.
Sokka was full-on sobbing now. "Mom!" I called, trying to break free of his grip. A fight between a six-year-old girl against a middle-aged man hardly seemed fair. "Sokka!" I screamed, more scared than I had ever been.
"Katara..." My mother whispered as I was dragged past where she was standing. She never lifted her eyes from the spot on the floor. I was dragged by my wrists across our house, but we stopped at the door frame.
A brief flicker of hope lit within me. I thought that, maybe he had a change of heart. Maybe I wasn't going to be taken away from my mother and Sokka. Maybe we could pretend this had never happened and go on living like a happy family.
The hope was soon extinguished when I realized what he was doing. The man reached into one of the many pockets of his coat and dug out a ratty cloth bag. He threw it at my mother in an uncaring fashion.
"Your payment." He said to my mother. We watched as she untied the string and poured the contents of the bag into her hand gingerly. Even from the distance, the shine of the silver and gold coins were unmistakable.
Without another word, I was roughly shoved into a horse-drawn carriage waiting a few feet outside our house. I understood now... My mother had sold me.
The door was quickly slammed shut. I briefly got to get one last look at my house. There was no one outside and the door was shut.
I never did get to say goodbye.
Post Note: Sorry if that didn't seem realistic or whatever... I'm not entirely familiar with the methods of selling a child into slavery?
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