Full Summary: A young woman from the Southern Water Tribe finds herself spirited away in yet another raid upon her homeland, catching the fancy of a certain Prince whose hand offers the only chance for escape from her prison. In another place, Chief Hakoda's corsairs retaliate furiously for the loss of their people, and in their zeal seize upon the escort vessel belonging to a noble Lady of Fire, the very woman arranged to be wed to a Fire Nation Prince.

Years later, a pair of Water Tribe siblings stumble upon a boy encased in ice who may just be their greatest hope and find their destinies inexorably changed. Meanwhile, a young untested Prince takes his sister's blessing and departs on a quest to win the respect long denied to him. They are certain to cross paths, but for good or ill is yet unknown.

A/N: This story is not comic compliant. Ursa is assumed to be ranked or nobility instead of a commoner.

Otherworld Lady

It starts like this: black skies above white tundra amid shouting and panic, waking Kya from her slumber and drawing her outside where the warriors were already gathering for a fight.

The black ships approached across the horizon, heavy with soldiers armed with fire and blade, a sight that the Water Tribe knew well and despised. Every time time the ships came to the southern shore, some of the villagers went with them, either in chains to an unknown destination, or to the cold embrace of eternal sleep. The warriors and their ferocious pride preferred the latter option, and if any waterbenders had been left in their home to take, they would say the same. Death was understandable, and in the grand scheme of things inevitable, but no one wanted to know what the Fire Nation would do to those they spirited away.

The raids never came with any predictable regularity; they could arrive twice in the span of a few months, or disappear for several years without a single attack.

Fortunately, the Southern Water Tribe was not helpless, even without the boon of their waterbenders. Water Tribe ships far outstripped the Fire Nation in speed and maneuverability, dashing around the dark ships and dropping slime bombs with pinpoint accuracy, stopping up engines in the cold water. Yet it took so many strikes to down a single one of the metal monoliths that the speedier boats had their hands busy taking down one, leaving their brethren to make for the shore unhindered. Kya could only savor the short-lived satisfaction of one of the metal vessels tipping backward and spilling its passengers into the brine, creaking loudly as the rest of them finally made landfall.

Firebenders stormed the frozen shore, meeting with the warriors over the first rise, and the loud clang of clashing spears and the roar of flames reached Kya even from the entrance to her home. She was no warrior; no woman from the Water Tribe was, but that didn't stop her from drawing a long carving knife out from her supplies and holding it close in a stiff grip. Nothing but a knife made for food preparation, but the young woman held it in both hands like it was one of her tribe's sturdy war clubs. She'd never fought a day in her life, not with a blade in her hands and certainly not with the blessing of water which she lacked, yet the threat of enemy soldiers on her doorsteps made details like those cease to matter.

Kya didn't have the opportunity to steel herself though, when a pair of armored Fire Nation fighters blasted apart the back wall of the igloo and stomped inside. Running off of nothing but adrenaline and raw desperation, Kya turned on her heels and lunged with her knife, aiming for the chink in the armor in the soldiers' necks.

She was, humiliatingly, batted aside.

In hindsight, an inexperienced young woman with a kitchen knife was never a match for a pair of trained firebenders, especially when she lacked the element of surprise. The blade clattered away, and when she tried to catch it, one of the soldiers kicked the handle out of reach into the snow. Kya tried to scramble away, only to be grabbed and pushed against the far wall, expecting any second now to be charred to dust on the floor of her own home. "Well you don't see that every day," A surprisingly feminine voice sounded from beneath the helm, and a gauntlet-covered hand moved aside the mask to reveal a woman no older that Kya herself with sharp brown eyes. "A Water Tribe lady trying to attack us?" The Fire Nation woman gave a derisive snort, "it's such a change of pace it almost makes this stupid trip worth the time."

Kya felt her lips harden into a thin line without realizing, because for all that she lacked the power of a bender, there was still the icy determination of Southern Water Tribe that the Fire Nation couldn't burn away. Even if she was destined to die here, they would hear her before she did, "There is nothing for you here. There are no more waterbenders for you to steal and no resources to make your own."

"Pretty and mouthy. This one's something else," The soldier's companion muttered, his voice a low, harsh grumble. The first paid no attention to him, but her face tightened in annoyance and fingers flickered with fire, causing Kya to instinctively stiffen her posture and eye the flames.

Realizing that she may be facing the last moments of her life, Kya spoke out once more, "What do you want from us? There's nothing for you to gain by doing this." Despite the intensity of her gaze, she was calm, measured even. Still, in spite of that, the female firebender was clearly losing her patience.

"No place for us? Ha, you think the captain cares about little details like that? What matters is that we don't leave empty-handed. And guess what," The woman yanked Kya forward by her braid and pushed her towards the hole they made in the wall, "you've just volunteered!"

Kya struggled, her howl of desperation blotted out by the sound of clashing blades and fire blasts; the fire crowded her out. Shaking and desperate from the realization of what was happening to her, Kya dug in her heels and resisted, even as the maw of the metal ship gaped open above her.

It instilled a fear she didn't even know she possessed, but when recognized, would not recede.

No tribesman belonged there, in the dark, away from the wide open snow fields, the icy slopes, the moon.

Her feet slipped as snow gave way to smooth metal, cold to the touch in an alien, unfamiliar way that was so different from the world she knew and it made her shiver the way snow never would. The world which was quickly slipping away. She caught a brief glance of more Water Tribe ships approaching in the distance-reinforcements outnumbering the Fire Nation navy but a minute too late to save her-before her gaze was tugged away. The walkway tilted up as she was dragged into the dark corridor, and the view of the soot-speckled sky behind her thinned to no more than a sliver, and then disappeared altogether.

They left her in a dank, tiny cell, without even a guard's acidic company to cut through the silence. There would be no going back now.

Kya wilted for but a moment, before straightening her stature. She was scared of the future, but she would not bend, would not cower. The Water Tribe never thawed before the flame.

The Southern Water Tribe had driven away the Fire Nation, but they were not victorious.

Like so many other raids in recent years, the black ships struck fiercely and then turned around and fled the instant the bulk of the fleet arrived. Even though the south had lost much of their once-impressive power over the decades, the naval force was more than a match for a relatively small raiding attack, and the Fire Nation was well aware of that fact. The Tribe could chase them down still, attempt to cause some real loss, but first priority always went to the wounded and the damage inflicted upon the village.

But though most of the injury against their tribe was limited to nonlethal wounds-though the healers would be busy with treating those for some weeks-there was one exception.

There was a half-circle of gathered warriors kneeling around a crumpled body in the snow, the gray of the fallen man's hair and beard strewn across the snow, his trembling hands still clutching his ornamented spear. Two red-clad bodies lay beside him motionless on the ground, permanently punished for their trespass. Even now the old Chief lived, but the blackened, bloody hole in his chest and faltering rattle of his breath left no doubt as to his inevitable fate. The Chief would be dead before he saw his next morning.

His Second, a mild warrior with ice blue eyes, laid his knuckles on the man's wrist in respect as the elder faded into unconsciousness, too exhausted and fading to stay awake any longer as the ice numbed the pain before the end. Hakoda pulled his hand away, assuring their lost leader as he slipped away, "You have fought with bravery and strength, my Chief. May you finally find peace in the next world." He slowly eased the elegant spear from cooling, slack hands and rose to his feet, the rest of the warriors watching in respectful silence and eyes cast down.

Hakoda turned and presented the spear to Kanna as she approached, and even without seeing the body or the blood tainting the white snow red, the meaning of the gesture was clear.

Kanna wasn't one to mince words or hesitate; she gave the Chief's weapon and the gathered tribesmen a slow, mournful look, and then began to direct them to prepare funeral raft to send the man to his final journey. The wounded and those too weakened to work were directed back to their homes to treat their wounds and rest. Kanna left to gather the rest of the elders to convene upon their next Chief, spear clasped in front of her like an offering, and that would be last Hakoda would see her until the final decision was made.

He had suspected that was the end of it; that now was a period of mourning and rebuilding before they could all stand tall and proud again, shoulder to shoulder like the warriors they were. And yet, the shroud of dread still hung over him; a hammer that had yet to drop.

Hakoda's concerns were confirmed a moment later when Bato came running up to him from the village, a look of alarm that sent his settling calm crumbling in an instant. The other man clasped him by the shoulder and jerked him back away from the blackened battlefield, insistent and uncompromising, no different from his voice "There's something you need to see." And if those words weren't enough to unnerve him, being led to a familiar igloo on the far side of the village certainly was, eyes straying to the cloth flap torn from the doorway and strewn across the snow-ripped away by a desperate hand.

'Kya…'

Hakoda didn't want to see what was on the other side. But he didn't have a choice in the end.

When his friend released him, Hakoda entered the igloo under his own power, plucking a carving knife from the ground as he did, fallen there as though knocked from a hand. He'd seen many weapons lost in much the same way in the heat of battle. He clenched his fingers tightly around the tool and cast his gaze to the ruined back wall of the igloo, blasted open by a combination of heat and force, and the fading footprints beyond it leading to the icy shore.

Hands brushing across scuff marks in the floor and the melting ice puddling in the rear, he could see in his mind's eye exactly what had happened, clear as if by witness.

The soldiers, forcing their way into the little home with fire and violence, and Kya who was knocked away from a wild charge with only an improvised weapon. There was signs of a struggle, but no blood-no, no body…. She was taken away.

Hakoda knelt there before the gaping hole, knife laid in his lap, and felt the pain settle over him like a shroud.

He remembered watching her across the fire, stewing over the feelings he never had the courage to face, while Bato nudged him in the arm, told him to just go for it with an encouraging smile. But he never had the chance to say anything.

For a while, Hakoda couldn't work up the will to react, to voice the sick pain churning in him. Even when his friend knelt by his side in a duly comforting silence, or when the elders came to retrieve them to hear their verdict. A despairing Kanna at their head who'd come to the same realization he had, taking Hakoda into an embrace as she shook with silent tears, needing comfort for the loss of another southern daughter. But when the elegantly carved spear was passed into his hands and the tribesmen dipped their heads in respect of his new station, Hakoda began to understand exactly what emotion he was feeling the most, and the one most insistent for his attention: anger.

The Southern Water Tribe had suffered the cruelties of the Fire Nation for too long, and simply surviving was no longer enough. His sharp mind and roiling pain rallied them, a people no longer content to wait for the black snow to come.

That was the day the South moved to war and destinies were irrevocably shifted.

Far from the South, the conflicts on the battlefront, a young woman of a noble lineage lived a bloodless life, and would-if luck had allowed it-never see the horrors of war or the crimes of those who perpetuated it. She had lived her lived within the confines of the Fire Nation and the beliefs that permeated her culture since she was small; so even blinded, Ursa's loyalty was genuine.

That the Fire Nation was the greatest culture in the world, she believed this.

That one day they would grow to spread their insight to the world, she also believed.

That she knew this, like so many other Fire Nation citizens did, was not uncommon. History is often written by the victorious and few who lived within the nation's borders who were not wronged thought otherwise. The sense of superiority, like a pall, settled over the masses educated to believe so, and overshadowed those who were not. The Fire Nation ran on its efficiency, its order; and favor always went to the royal family first.

Ursa, clad in her world of peace and noble blood, shared this truth and rarely doubted. With a bloodline directly traced from Avatar Roku, she was coveted for her pedigree, for whatever power and prestige she was thought to pass down to her children. Inevitably, Fire Lord Azulon extended an offer to her family for an arranged marriage between her and one of his sons, and even with the generous dowry, it was obviously an invitation she didn't have the right to refuse. Ursa did not know either of the princes very well, only that the deal was already neatly wrapped up, without her input. Though between royalty, it was not an unusual arrangement; Ursa accepted this with a layer of disappointment and calm resignation.

The word arrived that the seas were too fraught with pirate activity to send the royal family, so a guarded vessel was sent to see her onward. The decorated escort barge docked at the shore of her home months after the initial marriage offer, final preparations for the treaties and dowry finally settled, gilded ship flanked by two battleships waiting patiently in the bay.

As her belongings were loaded onto the vessel, the captain warned her that she was to hide below deck if they were attacked.

But the war was distant to her, like a story told from long ago, rather than something still taking place within her lifetime. Never did Ursa expect to see combat, or the effects of something she only heard about from others, but although ignorance can be also bliss, her lack of knowledge and emotional distance would not protect her.

So when the rogue ships ambushed her escort vessel, she no longer knew what to do. Her life, though contained and small, was not one of uncertainty. Only her first glimpse of battle made her wonder, and the sight of elegant, unmarked cutters skirt the wake of a Fire Nation barge shook her safe little world for the first time.

Too far away to be struck by firebending and too fast to succumb to trebuchet, the corsairs pelted the port battleship with sludge-filled bombs that made the engine sputter and groan, a sign that even Fire Nation engineering was not invincible.

Ursa did not get the chance to see any more, as the captain shepherded her below decks to conceal herself, now much less calm than before. She took the stairs two at a time at the man's rushed directions, her elegance faltering as she stumbled on the rough paneling. Descending further into the ship, Ursa huddled in the cargo hold, listening to the escalating sounds of combat, explosions signifying rushed firebending filling the air.

Eventually, the clamor faded away, and Ursa dared to hope it was over.

Then, breaking the fragile lull of silence, the sound of booted steps alerted her to the presence of someone coming her way. Ursa-in spite of her panic-did not for one second expect the might of the Fire Nation to fall to pirates, so she clambered to her feet instead of concealing herself. Only when the door flew open did she regret her decision.

The man standing in the doorway was not Fire Nation; in fact, his clothes were so incredibly distinctive in fur lining and navy blue dye that no one within the Fire Nation were likely to wear it. And before her eyes, he pulled the leather half-mask from his face and brushed aside tangled hair to reveal a set of icy blue eyes made even more intense against his dark complexion, and Ursa found herself frozen in place by his gaze. The man's expression softened a little when he noticed her, and his grip around his jagged spear loosened, tilting the blade away but not releasing it.

Trying not to show weakness, Ursa straightened up, poised and dignified in the face of a threat the way she should be. Staying strong, she spoke out to the invader, "I don't know what you wanted here. We don't have any treasures on this ship for you to steal. You're better off leaving immediately."

The warrior stared at her, and for a moment Ursa thought he wasn't going to answer. Then unexpectedly, he quirked his mouth, seeming almost...amused?

"Your boat is sinking, miss."

Dignity faltering, Ursa was almost embarrassed by how he threw her off, "What? Then...the crew?" She would have moved out to the deck to check if he wasn't still standing in her way.

"I didn't keep track of them all, but the captain threw himself on his sword. I didn't destroy the lifeboats, so they should be evacuating, if they have any sense left in their heads." There was no malice in his voice, or cruel lingering in the delivery, but the sense of distance she'd felt for so long still made the words feel unreal. "Normally, a Water Tribe warrior doesn't go scrounging through Fire Nation cargo, but the captain did have this on his person…" The man drew a handful of parchment out of the folds of his tunic marked with distinctive calligraphy, an ink-stamp in the shape of the Fire Nation insignia. They were Ursa's marriage papers, the set delivered to her home that she had read to her but never touched. Proof of her lineage and fate in the hands of her country's enemy.

He dropped them carelessly from his hands and left them where they lay, but the undone tie shown they had already been read, and from the pointed look the warrior gave her, there was no doubt he knew what they meant.

"What are you going to do with me, then? Ransom the royal family for my safe return?"

Her question brought a hardness to his face, but not-surprisingly-anger, "You really don't know anything about the war, do you?" She wasn't given the opportunity to answer that question before the Water Tribe warrior lowered his spear completely, an opening a soldier would have taken advantage of, but one that Ursa didn't know what to do with. "You're mistaken, we don't care about money and…" His voice faltered for a moment, only to return tightened with strain, "and my people don't harm noncombatants."

The unspoken accusation of 'unlike yours' was heavy between them. Ursa averted her eyes first.

The rumble of the ship broke the silence and he stepped back through the doorway with one arm set in a gesture to follow. Ursa went willingly, not seeing the point in fighting him now that the battle was already over, and held her head up high with all the dignity a prisoner could muster, even if he hadn't used the word. She spared a glance to the horizon, where the lifeboats were just barely visible and fit to bursting with the remaining crew from the scuttled ships, before arriving at the gangplank.

Even distracted by her situation, Ursa still caught the respectful gaze directed at the man in front of her from other warriors on the ship, and the almost inaudible acknowledgement of 'Chief' from the helm.

He was their leader. Even so young, still.

Her strangely receptive captor gave her his hand to steady herself over the unstable boards, and Ursa almost couldn't suppress the chuckle building in her throat; a gentleman, even to someone who should be his enemy.

The apparent Chief led her into a small, simple cabin and stepped away, "Only the best for the Avatar's granddaughter, right?" Was he joking? Yes, he really was. Ursa stifled another involuntary noise; she wasn't used to this kind of attitude. "I have to leave you now. If you have any other questions for me, knock on the door and ask for Chief Hakoda."

Ursa processed that name, memorized it as intensely as bureaucrat's speech. But she interrupted him before he could leave, "Wait, at least tell me this now… What do you intend to do with me, if not kill or ransom me?"

Hakoda's lips twitched in a suggestion of a smile-somehow he seemed like the type who should smile often-and what he said next was almost painfully sincere, "I'm going to show you the world that your home wouldn't tell you about."

He left her then and Ursa collapsed on the cabin's lumpy cot, revising the world she knew, while Hakoda's parting words played over and over in her head.

Meanwhile, the barge Ursa left crumbled and sunk into the sea, her marriage papers gone with it.

For weeks the only thing Kya saw were the dull gray walls of her prison, the shifting groan of metal a constant companion after her capture, and the tight space drew up a disgust she never knew she had.

The Water Tribe were often at home on the sea, element strong in their blood even for the most inexperienced and unknowing sailors, but this was nothing like her people's' way. Poor circulation in the enclosed halls gave the air a rank smell that moppings could never really clean out-who knew if the firebenders could even smell it after being exposed to it for so long-and the solid walls trapped the humidity and uncomfortable warmth inside with her to smolder.

But the worst of all was the claustrophobia, the sensation of nowhere to go, nowhere to move, walls pressing in around her. The South didn't have prisons and the greatest punishment was lone exile into the wastes; she had no way to prepare for this, and the only thing she could do to assuage the panic just beneath the surface was to think of anything else. Trapped in the darkness, Kya calmed her mind and occupied herself by thinking up imaginary backstories for the guards who brought her meals and cleaned her cell.

There was little else.

The guards provided her water and soap to clean with, which Kya did only enough to prevent herself from getting sick. It warded the guards off from interacting with her for the most part, which suited her just fine, and gave Kya more time to think away from them. She picked at the dull red tunic and pants the raiders gave her after her parka grew heavy with dirt and grime. They gave little attention to her, but Kya understood enough; she was just a message to be delivered: that the Fire Nation didn't consider her important, she was just proof that they never left empty-handed.

She wanted to go home; at the very least, to escape this cage. But the question was how.

The answer came in the form of the warming climate, the scent of spice drifting through the scant fresh air she got, and the sound of waves slapping against a harbor. She had arrived in Fire Nation proper.

The soldiers seemed eager to get her off the ship, clapping her in tough irons and pulling her down the lowered gangplank, while Kya did her best to stay upright in the bustle of the crowded dock and shake the tangled hair out of her eyes. The sun was blinding bright in a sky of scarce clouds and the spice was heavier than ever in the air, carried on the wind. Everywhere she looked was painted in shades of flame, intense enough to hurt her eyes from so long in the dull grey hold. In the distance, a monolithic statue of a Fire Lord stood overlooking the east; Kya wondered at their gall and arrogance in such a creation.

But as the soldiers exited the ship with her, another larger vessel was pulling into dock alongside it, worn in places from unknown damage but elegant and trimmed with golden decor. All activity along the dock seemed to freeze. As the massive ship opened up civilians were shooed off the harbor-side and those that remained fell into low bows.

Even from her awkward position, Kya could see the gleaming armor of this new entourage as they stamped in organized file into view. And beyond them, as the plated shoulders parted, strode a man with smoldering yellow eyes and topknot secured with a golden, royal ornament.

Before she could see any more, the raiders yanked her down into a bow next to them, and she reflexively shouted in pain as their grip wound tight around her arms.

When she gathered the courage to look up again, the golden-eyed man in his crimson finery was staring directly at her, boring holes directly into her eyes. His inspection was fierce and predatory, like the dark gaze of a seal-leopard on the ice, just before it sunk its teeth into its prey. Yet there was curiosity and interest there as well, and even after averting her eyes, the weight of his stare was heavy upon her.

Eventually he turned away when called though the feeling lingered, and one of his envoy said in a stiff voice, "The Fire Lord requests your report on your search, my Lord." He sniffed derisively and turned as the guards surrounding Kya pulled her up and away from where a beautiful covered litter was brought to ferry the man away, and she couldn't help but feel relieved by his absence.

Without ceremony, the soldiers escorted her up winding roads to the city proper, giving her a sprawling view of mountainous slopes devoid of a single flake of snow. Homesickness like lead sunk into her soul.

On the border of the city was a towering structure Kya correctly assumed would be her prison, and her impatient escorts pulled her towards it. Called back to the capital for a report, the raiders decided they would leave her here out of convenience. She didn't speak to them, nor them to her. Once in the ship's hold, she had tried to interrogate them as to the fate of the rest of the stolen waterbenders but had been told nothing, except that she would never see them. An ordinary prison cell would be Kya's only reward for her endurance, deprived even of the chance to be shackled alongside her people.

Shepherded into a dark cell, Kya felt suddenly, unbearably exhausted. How far she'd been taken from home, the unfamiliar landscape, and the golden-eyed royal...all of these things together were too much to process at once. It sucked the energy right out of her.

Kya climbed onto the rough cot in the far end of the cell, and despite its uncomfortable lumpiness, fell asleep almost immediately.

She was rudely awoken the next day to the sound of booted feet tramping down the halls to her cell, and pushed herself up to sit just as the golden-eyed man from the other day stepped inside.

Nervous without really knowing why, Kya's shoulders tense and she straightened up against the wall, waiting in forced calm silence as the man began to speak. "So, you're the woman the Raiders took from the South. Not what I expected," Kya furrowed her brow at those words, staring at the floor instead of his face and wondered what he could mean by that. Instead of responding, she let the moment pass in silence. But she was taken aback by his next words to look up, "I am Prince Ozai, second son of Fire Lord Azulon."

The unspoken prompt was obvious, "Kya, of the Water Tribe."

The Prince-a shock that needed some time to process-gestured towards the barred door and a masked guard stepped in, carrying carved box, which was placed just inside her cell. "Call it a welcoming gift to the Fire Nation," Ozai told her, before departing with his guard, leaving the room feeling smaller in his wake.

Curiosity overtaking wariness, Kya pried open the wooden box to reveal a simple comb, yet one made from polished silver instead of bone or tin.

She put it down and pushed it to the far end of the cell, suspecting a trap or deception. No one in the Fire Nation would give her something like this without some ulterior motive. Yet, as the days passed in that dirty place, that gift proved to be far from the last, as the Prince's masked guards arrived every other day to present her with some trinket or another. The gifts couldn't have been worth anything to him, and may have even been easy to throw away on some Water Tribe woman, even if they were expensive in her eyes. Kya eventually did use the comb, if only not to look so pathetic when the man visited her again.

She'd been expecting a lie out of his actions, but was even more surprised with the knowledge that the most blatant answer was the right one. Kya had pleaded the soldiers guarding her cell for answers until the regular outside the bars finally cracked, admitting that he'd heard that the Prince was displaying an "interest" in her. But that he was also engaged to be married to another woman arriving in a little more than a month's time.

So that was it.

Kya may not have been versed in politics, but she did know men, and she knew now that the Prince's motives were far less complicated than she expected.

He was attracted to her, plain and simple, and wanted to play bachelor by plying her with trinkets in the last weeks before getting married. A distraction. Who could know why a high and mighty Prince would find allure in the primal South, but Kya suspected she'd learn when (not if) Ozai came for her again.

And he did come again, this time flanked by two guards, one of whom carried a thin, rectangular box under his arm. "It's been too long since our last meeting," he started, eyes pausing on her combed and braided hair before moving to unlock the gate to her cell. "You must be eager for a change after sitting in this unpleasant filth for so long."

Kya eased herself to her feet, one hand placed on the wall for support, and when she spoke her voice was calm and even. "What's to be done with me then? Have you tired of spoiling me, Prince Ozai?"

"On the contrary, Kya of the Water Tribe...I've come to extend an invitation to you."

"What?" The words didn't immediately register, and Kya looked up to find him smiling sharply.

"I've made arrangements for a room to be set aside in the palace for you. A cell ill fits a woman like you," He said this very bluntly, as though the truth in his words was obvious and undeniable. But as Ozai waited for a reply, Kya found she couldn't speak. Plying her with gifts was one thing, but breaking societal rules she knew had to exist so suddenly just for personal interest was something else entirely. This man was a very dangerous kind of direct. Her lack of response seemed to displease him, gesturing at the package his guard carried, "Too stunned for words? I even had the seamstresses make something to replace those ugly rags."

"Aren't you engaged?" Kya asked numbly, forgetting for a moment that she shouldn't know that.

"And how did you know that? Loose-lipped guards spilling information? Not that it was a secret… Still, it hardly matters, my bride-to-be is still a month away and the palace is a much finer place to be than a cell." Kya frowned, knowing very distinctly what he would want from her, but also aware that cooperating was the best chance she had at freedom. "No? How about this...the day my fiance arrives in the capital, I will personally set you free."

On one hand, conceding to the Prince of the Fire Nation was not something she ever wanted to do, but just as she promised herself that first day on the Southern Raiders' battleship, Kya would not cower. She could use Ozai, bear the sacrifice for the sake of freedom.

Kya took the Prince's hand that day, and left the cold behind, not knowing she couldn't get it back.