A/N: Hello my precious readers. (If I have any...) I have no idea how long I intend to make this, and I have no idea if anyone will want to read it. I would say that it is going to be pretty long, and if anyone wants me to continue it, I would be thrilled if you would give it a review and/or go to my tumblr.. (offtofeelthings) and drop in a message. :) yay for life
Summary: Katara of the North is told by her father that she is to marry Prince Zuko, future King of the Seven Kingdoms. The two strangers both have dark secrets and dangerous enemies. Death is coming for them and everyone they love. Loosely based on Game of Thrones.
Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN EITHER ATLA OR GAME OF THRONES.
"Lady Katara?"
"Yes?"
"Your father requests your presence in the dining hall."
"Oh does he now?"
"Yes my lady. He said it was urgent." The sigh that came out of her mouth was anything but ladylike, and Katara inwardly cringed thinking about Septa Hama whipping her for her ill-mannered tendencies. Her father's urgent was quite typically not anything close to what Katara would call urgent.
As she stood the fabric of her blue dress rustled and fell quickly to rest against the heated stone floor of her chamber. Her bare feet clapped against the ground as she followed the guard out of the door. She had fought with her father many times about shoes. One particularly bad fight had ended in him calling her barbaric and too uncivilized to be Lady Kya's daughter. Now when she walked without shoes she did it to spite Lord Hakoda; the lack of shoes could never take away the striking resemblance to her long passed mother.
The worn leather book in her hands was still open to her current page when she handed it off to one of the hand maids to return to the library. The young girl of approximately fourteen gave a quick curtsy before taking the book without a word and walking in the opposite direction of Katara's intended destination. If her father saw another book about sorcery in her hands he would lock her out of the library and forbid reading. He always told her that being curious about sorcery was like being curious about death. It only ever ended in one thing.
Her feet grew cold as they reached the area of the castle where the stones weren't heated from below, but she hardly noticed it as she thought to be nervous about the urgent news. The guard standing watch at the dining hall opened one of the heavy wooden doors quickly as she got closer to them.
He bowed his head, but Katara could see that he did not move his gaze down along with his chin. Icy blue that only appeared in northern irises looked up at her from under dark lashes. When her eyes met his they quickly sunk to the ground. This was a common occurrence. She stepped through the doorway and waited for the door to shut behind her before gliding forward.
"Father." He was seated in the middle of the long table, with her brother Sokka next to him. Surrounding the table outside of the men of her family were ten empty chairs, dry goblets and clean plates. Her father typically preferred to have the table full with his men. This night must be different. She felt no need to dab at the edges of the matter and went straight for the kill. "What is the urgent news?"
"Katara, will you dine with us?" Her father, however, felt differently. Katara walked towards them; she was careful on the steps should she not stub her exposed toes. Her waist length hair was in a braid down her back, and she silently cursed her inability to remember her fur-lined cloak. The cold air blew against her near bare shoulders. Her eyes stumble upon Sokka's and he crossed his causing a small giggle to rise in her throat before she turned back to her father. The look on his face squashed any kind of lightheartedness she had within her. She sat gracefully in the seat. The meat set before them was nothing recognizable due to the amount of charring done by the cooks. She never bothered asking what they were eating, and she wasn't going to start now.
"Father what is the news?" She tried again. He reached forward and used a serving fork to slowly rip a piece of meat off of the seared carcass. He put it on his plate before tearing a few more. He wrapped his old tan hands around the tin pitcher of wine and filled his goblet halfway. This was all he ever allowed himself excluding special occasions. Sokka was already gnawing on a rather large piece of meat, and looking at their father carefully out of the corner of his eye. Sitting across from Hakoda she watched as he very painfully dragged out telling her the important news she was summoned for. If not for him she would be dining in her room and reading about sorcery or another. She would prefer to sit alone than to face the uncomfortable stares or Septa Hama forcing her to do needle work. Before her father started eating he looked up at her cautiously.
"Katara," her father began as she slipped forward to the edge of her seat in anticipation, "as you know, when a girl turns of age it is her father's right to marry her to a suitable husband." Her heart that had earlier been stripped of lightheartedness was now also becoming heavy. It was full of dread and worry. Those few words filled her heart with such things that only succeeded in weighing it down.
"Father you can't mean…"
"Katara, word has traveled among the Seven Kingdoms of your coming of age. They say your beauty is incomparable, that you are a rare gem." He looked mildly proud for a moment before she interrupted his trance.
"What are you trying to say?"
"A raven arrived this morning." Panic swelled in her heart even more. She could feel the biting pain underneath her ribcage. Her knuckles were white as her fingers wrapped around the edge of the wooden seat. She could feel splinters lodging in her palm. Her eyes were wide and pooled with emotion.
"What did it say?"
"You are to marry the prince of the Fire Nation." She felt boiling anger, and her hands tightened on the chair so as not to do anything brash.
"You're selling me?" Her voice came out as a partial growl. Her father flinched before rage flashed in his eyes. She wondered how he could be angry for her justified reaction.
"You will be the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms." She stood up and the backs of her knees pushed the chair back, it tilted before falling to the ground with a loud slam. Katara didn't move an inch whereas her brother jumped considerably high.
"I do not wish to be Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. I do not wish to be the wife of a fire nation tyrant!" Her voice rose to a yell at that point and her cerulean blue irises were full of anger and betrayal. "You have no right!" Her head swung back and forth at that and her entire body shook with anger. She could feel her hands trembling from her need to hit something, but she used her rather large amount of strength to restrain. Her father stood much more gracefully than her and he rubbed his tired eyes. He was a man of thirty-six that had aged faster than many. You could never guess his age, and no one would even try for fear of offending the Leader of the North.
"Katara, I am your father. You are fifteen. Most girls are married at the age of thirteen; you are lucky I have let you go this long without a husband. You are also lucky to be asked to be married to the future king." He pointed at her before pointing at the ground next to him. He was all sharp movements and exaggerated gestures. "You will stand next to the throne; you will help him rule!" Her anger turned to misery as she took a step away from him. The wooden leg of the chair dug into her right calf. Her long blue sleeves were balled up in her fisted hand, and her eyes dragged to the grey stone.
"I don't know him." Her dejected voice was scarcely audible.
"We all have to make sacrifices for the well-being of our family. You have to sacrifice for the safety of the North." Her eyes rolled up to him, and she looked over at Sokka.
"What about him? Why isn't he sacrificing? He is older than I am." Sokka looked up at her and for the first time that night he spoke his mind.
"I have to be the lord of the North in father's place." Her anger slowed down her wit and what Sokka said confused her.
"But father is the lord." Sokka considered Hakoda who in turn nodded at him.
"He is going to the Vale to visit our brothers. The Southern Tribe." A terrifying thought occurred to her.
"I will go to King's Landing alone?" The last bit of anger fizzled out and the anguish returned. She had too much pride to cry in front of her father. He looked distressed as he tilted his head once to confirm her question. "How long?"
"You leave by ship in a fortnight."
Katara looked up at her father before turning around and running down the few steps there were. She took the iron handle of the heavy door and pulled with all her might until it was open just enough to slip through. The guard standing at the door was startled as she lurched past him. Her fingers released her sleeves only to grab onto the skirt of her dress. She picked it up to reveal her ankles and turned her walk into a brisk pace which then turned into a sprint. Her hair that was previously in a lose braid dropped around her face and brown wisps flew behind her. The concerns of maids and guards she passed went in one ear and out another. She could feel the distress that would befall Septa Hama should she run into her, yet she continued in her reckless run. She reached the enclosed spiral stairs and she made it halfway up before her tears caught up to her and she was blinded. One of her hands moved to rest against the cold stone walls that matched the floors and ceilings of every inch of this castle. She slowly slipped to the ground with her dress surrounding her in a pool of nice blue fabric. Her bare knees hit the edge of a step and she felt her skin scrape and wetness spread across her kneecap. The tears stopped coming and she froze in that place at the stairs trying to calm her breathing.
It was right there that the woman found her a few minutes later, the oldest woman of the North that refused to be called anything but Gran. She was only the true grandmother to Sokka and Katara, but she was a sort of nurturer to all. She compassionately pulled up the bruised girl and led her back to her chambers.
It wasn't until Gran's old shaky hands were wiping the blood from Katara's knees that she spoke.
"Sometimes your duty is the very opposite of what you would want for yourself, and sometimes what you want for yourself is your duty." Old wise eyes glanced up at the child that was to be the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. "Listen to me Katara, your mother was the same way about marrying your father." Gran chuckled and Katara looked down at the woman sitting down in front of her dangling legs that were hanging off of the tall bed.
"But they loved each other." Gran smiled and patted her shin before dunking the cloth back into the warm water.
"Your mother and father had to learn to love each other." The warm fabric stung as Gran gently cleaned the dirt from her bloody knees. "Kya yelled and screamed at me, and she cried. It was the hardest thing I had to do. Leaving the safe mountains of our brother tribe to carry my daughter to wed a man she had never met before was awful, but when we got to the docks and she saw this tall handsome man standing there with a beautiful white smile on his face. She stopped and thanked me. It was her duty Katara. And this is yours."
"What if he isn't handsome? What if he doesn't smile at me like father smiled at mother?"
"Not every man is like your father, but that doesn't make him a bad man."
"What if he doesn't like me?" Gran grabbed her hands and looked back up at her granddaughter.
"Child these are all things that you must leave to fate."
Later that night when Katara rested in her bed she thought of all the things she hoped her future husband would be. Before falling asleep she decided that the only real thing she could do before meeting him was hope.
