Chapter One; Awakenings

The first time Katara wakes, she is met with a smiling face. She is still half-asleep, so gives a smile back and snuggles deeper into the covers, not noticing his dark red tunic and the scowl that appears as she turns away from him.

The second time she wakes, it is because her feet are cold. She is being carried down a long corridor, and she turns inwards, expecting soft cloth and warmth. She is greeted by cold, hard armour and a skull-faced soldier. She screams and breaks free, but is caught as she runs past an open door. She is held close until the tears have ceased, then is picked up and taken to a cabin with a small porthole. She falls asleep again, comforted by the ocean sloshing against the hull and the presence of the man at her bedside.

She has a nightmare about flames, a skull faced warrior, and her mother dying. She wakes for the third time, gasping for air, and is comforted by the same smiling face. This time, she holds the face in her memory, remembering it and associating it with warmth and safety.

It is a fortnight later and Katara has formed a tentative friendship with the lieutenant who saved her life during the raid on her village. He is in charge of this small fleet and, though she does not realise it, has ordered that all faceplates and helmets are to be decommissioned until he says otherwise.

She is standing on the upper deck, watching him practice firebending. He does not realise she is watching, but will smirk later on when a crewmember tells him of the entranced expression upon her face as he worked through the increasingly difficult sets.

But it is now, and he looks up, sweat beading his brow as he sees her standing there. He remembers to smile, and is pleased when he gets a tentative wave in return. She makes her way down to the lower deck, and he is even more pleased when she runs towards him, arms outstretched, and stops.

She retraces her steps to the foot of the stairs and walks towards him. She bows low, and he drops to his knees, able to suffer this small indignity for the preciousness of having her under his control. He lifts her chin with one finger and smiles at the worried eyes that look at him. She hugs him then, and he allows it for a brief moment, before untangling the small arms and sending her to the physician with a nod. He resumes his training, this time with a sparring partner. I have her now…

"How is she?"

The healer shrugged as he put away a delicate instrument. He had been aboard this ship since its first voyage; moving from commander to commander as the ship changed hands.

"Physically, she is fine. She has regained the weight she lost, is completely over the cold sickness, and the burn on her shoulder is fully healed. Mentally, however, I cannot tell. She seems to have recovered, but…" The healer shrugged helplessly. Zhao frowned.

"Will there be- complications?" There was a sinister undertone to his voice, and the healer swallowed nervously before answering, knowing his career could be in jeopardy.

"Only time will tell. She has- is going through an emotional upheaval. As long as what she learns remains constant, there should be no problems."

"Constant?" Zhao queried, raising an eyebrow.

The healer looked him in the eye for the first time in the conversation and with frank honesty said "No lies," before disappearing out the door.

Zhao left the infirmary some time after, making his way through the familiar corridors of the ship. He stopped outside the door, essaying a short knock before stepping inside and closing the door behind him. His face was set, and he took a deep breath as the young girl turned towards him, smiling.

"Katara, I am afraid I have some… bad news."

Her smile disappeared. Five minutes later, she was crying on his shoulder, her breath coming out in great, gulping sobs. For who wouldn't be upset at learning that their whole village, the only life they had ever known, had been destroyed?

Zhao picked the girl up as she continued crying and placed her on the bed. He turned to leave, but she caught his sleeve, looking up at him with shining eyes.

"Please don't leave…"

"It is late, Katara. I need to sleep, and unfortunately, your bed is not big enough for the both of us. Goodnight." Zhao stood, untangling the small fingers from his sleeve, and walking out the door.

He was in his room preparing for bed, when his door creaked open, and a small voice whispered "Your bed's big enough, isn't it?" He snarled under his breath, and was about to banish her back to her room when she closed the door behind her and dived under the covers. Zhao paused, and turned away, smirking. This could work to my advantage...

Pulling back the covers, Zhao spoke sternly to the small girl. "Tonight only," and slid into the warm confines of red silk.

He woke briefly in the dead of the night to small arms winding around his waist. He drifted back to sleep with a smirk on his lips and a small delicate, so easy to break body curled in his embrace.