Important Note: This story will be a series of vignettes beginning from the Siege of the North and continuing on till the end of the series. With a twist, of course. ;) It is co-authored by myself and Boogum, the genius behind The Undying Fire and many other wonderful AtLA stories. Chapters from Katara's point of view are written by myself and those from Zuko's point of view are Boogum's.
Those of you who have read or watched with Ranma 1/2 are going to find this premise very familiar. *giant unsubtle winky-face*
The Curse
#1: A Fishy Prologue
"I see you've learned a new trick. But I didn't come this far to lose to you."
Katara's eyes narrowed and her jaw fell as she breathed heavily, her chest expanding and contracting to pull in oxygen. Her opponent was scowling at her, his yellow eyes flashed with stubborn determination. Neither would be backing down and both knew it.
That was fine. This fight had been a long time coming.
Zuko's hand shot out like a catgator snapping at a wayward turtleduck. Fire erupted from his palm, scalding the air and illuminating the Spirit Oasis like a hearth. A month ago, Katara would've run from the blast, but now was different. Now, she was trained. She drew on that training to pull water from the pool and counter the blast, dousing Zuko's flames as easily as a child blowing out birthday candles. Katara smirked triumphantly and weaved a rope of water through the air tauntingly. Come at me, bro. The message in the motion was clear.
Zuko returned her smirk. Despite themselves, both were deriving a bit of pleasure from their brawl. For Katara, it was a chance to finally test her skills against a worthwhile opponent; Zuko was another story. Perhaps he hadn't expected her to be able to fight. Perhaps he even thought he could have fun while he crushed her.
Katara would not be crushed easily, however. She'd spent months dodging and living in constant anxiety over this jerk and she was more than ready to knock him down a peg. Not to mention she'd sworn to never let him take Aang again and she wasn't about to break that oath. This time, she made the first move, striking out with her watery rope and lashing at the overconfident firebender. He dodged expertly and retaliated with a series of short blasts which she blocked by pulling her whip back and reforming it into a shield.
So they fought, Zuko with rage and passion and Katara with determination and resolve. Fire collided with water and then fists and feet. It was gritty and it was fun, but it was also exhausting. It was a surprise to no one when Katara finally thought enough is enough and threw Zuko into the oasis. It was a surprise, though, when he grabbed her ankle and pulled her in after him.
Katara hugged her brother and best friend in joy and relief as the fleet of enemy warships fled, soon disappearing beyond her line of sight. Everything wasn't okay. Not really. They'd lost a precious friend and suffered many casualties. But it would be. They'd pushed the Fire Nation back and protected the Northern Water Tribe. More importantly, Aang was safe. Zuko hadn't been able to keep him, and for that Katara would forever be grateful.
The next day passed in a blur of recovery and cleanup. The siege had left deep scars on both the grand city and its people. The healers had their hands full tending to the wounded and everyone was busy doing what they could to aid in the relief.
Everyone but one person.
Shut up inside the bathroom of Yugoda's healing hut, Katara held a hand mirror tightly to her breast and rocked back and forth, smothering the urge to scream. She dared not relinquish the normally unassuming object for fear of what she would see were she to catch a glimpse of herself. Because when she'd looked in it before, it had not been her face that stared back at her from its polished surface.
It had been the face of a man.