It became routine. I'd fall asleep somewhere in the morning, after trying futilely for hours to close my eyes, and then wake not even an hour later by the dreams that would surely invade my head. Then I would stare at the wall, thinking about everything, and thinking about nothing. Zuko would come with a cup of water and a small bit of food, and ask me where the Avatar was. When I didn't give him the answer he wanted, he would leave, and I would resume staring at the wall. Hours later, he would show up again, with fresh clothes in the color of the Fire Nation and ask me the same questions again, in hopes that my mind would be changed. It never was.
Somewhere in the back of my mind, it registered that he shouldn't even have bothered bringing me new clothes. Yes, I was glad that I could change, because the cell was not in the least bit clean, and nor was my skin at that. But still, it bothered me to no end.
And as to his questions, what could I say? I really didn't know where Aang was. Not that I would say if I did, but the man must know that I don't have the slightest clue. Aang could be on the upper deck having tea with the captain for all I knew about his location.
And so, with those thoughts being the only company I had, I stared at that wall hour after hour, day after day, wondering where I was, where my family was, where Aang was, when we would come to dock in the Fire Nation, and where I would be buried once Azula or Ozai got tired of my existence. Probably just thrown off the edge of a cliff.
I was having a particularly intriguing thought about how I would be killed one day, when I heard the distant footsteps that signified Zuko was coming. He rounded the corner and unlocked my cell, setting a cup of water, an apple, and a piece of bread down in front of me. As he opened his mouth to ask the inevitable question, I cut him off.
"Zuko, I don't see the point," my voice sounded distant to my ears. "I don't know where he is anymore than you do. So why don't we get the unavoidable end over with."
"What 'unavoidable end?'" He asked tiredly, already used to my badgering him about my death.
"The one where I die. Please, don't spare my conscience, I know it's coming. I'm just dead weight anyway." I truly meant it too; I knew I wasn't coming out alive.
We stared at each other for a long, long moment. His expression was completely unreadable, but I was used to that by now. Eventually, he said, "Get up."
I did as I was told, and studiously looked past his right shoulder to the darkness behind, waiting. This was it then, this was the end.
"Come closer," he said.
I did, but he didn't kill me. Instead he walked around to my back and grabbed my shoulder, pushing me forward. I complied, albeit a bit confusedly.
"Where are we going?" I asked, a sudden eagerness entering my voice at the prospect of getting out of this dungeon.
"My room," he said from behind me.
My eyes widened more than I thought humanly possible, and I whipped around, effectively shaking his arm off of me. His room? HIS room? No way in hell. If that was what he had in mind, then the next thing going into his mind will be my foot.
Zuko took this act silently, and then rolled his eyes, topping it off with a theatrical sigh. "For the love of Agni, Katara, get your mind out of the gutter. I wouldn't defile you like that. I'm not a total and utter asshole, you know. I'm taking you there so you can bathe."
"Bathe?" I repeated, dropping my stance. Maybe it wasn't the smartest idea to automatically trust his words like that, but he had made it perfectly clear that I was no more than a filthy water peasant to him.
"Yeah, soap, water—"
"Naked. I know the drill. What I'm asking is why. You already made it obvious that I wouldn't be let around that much water."
He smirked maliciously at me. "We're almost to the city. You have to look decent, blend in even. The people won't take well to having one of your kinds in the city, even if you are a prisoner. I still have use for you, so it won't do to have them rip you to shreds. And as to the water, you won't try it."
I raised a challenging eyebrow. "What makes you so sure?"
His smirk turned to a sneer. "I'll be waiting outside, and if I even suspect that you're bending, I will go in and take you down. And I'm sure you don't want me bursting in on you in the tub."
I scowled. He was right. Prisoner or not, I'll be damned if he gets to see me naked. "Fine, I'll play along. But what about your father, or your sister? What happens when they find out about me?"
He didn't even blink. "They already know, and I've made it perfectly clear that I am in control of you, and that neither of them has any right to you."
My anger spiked again, stronger. "Control of me? Right to me? You have neither of those, prince," I mocked.
"On the contrary, I think I do."
I couldn't help myself, so don't think about me as the little girl with the short temper. It made me so livid that he thought he was in control of me that I lashed out at him, kicking him square in the chest. He stumbled back a few steps, surprised, but quickly recovered, moving to block the next kick I aimed at him.
Soon, we were full out fighting, neither of us bothering to use our elements, even though he could. This was a total hate fight. We were getting out all of our feeling toward the other with our physical blows.
I aimed to punch him in the jaw, but he caught my wrist, yanking it behind my back. I moved my head forward, and flew it back so hard that I heard a loud smack when it hit his skull. He released his grip reflexively, and I took the opportunity of his injury to bend and kick his legs out from underneath him.
He rolled onto his back, and kicked me in the stomach, sending my sprawling onto my back as well. In a second, he was on me, one knee pressed hard into my stomach, and his hands pinning my arms to either side of me, twisting them so my elbows grinded against the hard floor of the ship.
"Enough," he snarled at me. "Is that any way to treat royalty, Waterbender?"
I growled right back at him, "Royalty? Says the banished prince. You have no right to that throne any more than a dirty beggar on the street. You are nothing to me, nothing. You have zero control over what I do."
His hands tightened around me, and I could feel the pulse in each fingertip. "You think I have no control over you? Your life is in my hands. If you had known that by keeping you down here, I was keeping you safe, you might be feeling a little more grateful. I could have had you tortured or raped like you had said, but I didn't. I could even kill you right now if I wanted to. I could do anything I please, and you wouldn't be able to stop me. So, yes, I think I have control over you." His eyes blazed.
I swallowed the revulsion I had at his words. He makes me sick, I thought to myself. Just plain sick. "Get off of me," I choked out past the nausea.
He glared silently at me for a minute before flinging himself off of me, pulling my body up roughly with his. His grip hadn't loosened in the slightest; in fact it had tightened even more. "Look at me," he ordered. I did so reluctantly, smothering the urge to spit in his face. "Pull any more shit like that and you're going straight to Azula when we arrive. Understand?"
I nodded, barely. He released his grip, and I felt the blood rush back into my fingers with a vengeance. I turned around, and he grabbed my wrists tightly again, and pinned them behind me. I couldn't help but smirk to myself. He had absolutely no control.
Bathing could possibly have been the greatest thing to ever happen to me.
Well, that was an obvious lie, but after spending countless days stuck in a crappy cell, covered in dirt I had acquired beforehand and grime from the grubby room, it felt like the best experience of my life. I washed myself until the water turned brown, and then I drained the water and washed myself again. By the time I was done, I'm sure I was cleaner than I had ever been in my whole life. My hair, tangled and knotty, was the only problem. I was able to bend water bit by bit through my hair to get the worst knots out, and it fell down to my waist in a grateful heap, smelling faintly of lavender.
After I had stepped out of the tub, I realized suddenly that I couldn't change back into my old clothes; they were covered in muck, the blue covered by the brown. Wrapping a towel around myself, I exited the bathroom, letting all the steam out behind me into the room.
Zuko sat in a chair across the room, reading a book. My grip reflexively tightened on my towel when he looked up at me. I wasn't sure, but I think I saw his lips part in surprise before he quickly shut his mouth and closed his book. I flushed unexpectedly, suddenly aware and frustrated that my towel was not nearly as long as I wished it was.
Ho stood, awkwardly avoiding his gaze from me, and gestured absently toward the bed. "Wear that." His commanded. He stood there a moment longer, before hastily exiting the room. I nearly laughed out loud. Not temptation, my right eye.
When he left, I looked to the outfit on the bed. It was a simple red dress, standard Fire Nation clothing, nothing special. I dropped my towel and slipped the dress on, glancing swiftly into the mirror. I looked like a piece of Fire Nation crap. I turned to the door and shouted in what I hoped was an obnoxious way, "I'm ready!"
Zuko opened the door, looking pleased. "We're here."
I turned to look out the window, and had to stop a gasp from escaping my lips. The city was absolutely beautiful. The main island was situated in the crater of a volcano, and though the Fire Nation was very humid and should sport a lot of different vegetation, the plant life that should be thriving was all but gone. Where there were not streets filled with houses and shops, there were vast plains with dry, parched grass. However, the city was stunning in it's architectural setup. There were areas of low built houses, and some areas of very tall buildings, making it look confusing but intriguing at the same time.
In the center of the whole thing rose the palace like a gold and red bird from the fire of the nation. The gold roof reflected the rays of the sun, making the city shine with radiant light. Despite the abject hate I had for the country, I couldn't deny the beauty of such a place.
A rough tug on my wrist brought my attention away from the city and back to the boat. Zuko looked impatient. "Come on," he said. "We're leaving this place."
I followed. "You sound like you don't like it here."
He snorted. "Why should I?"
I shrugged. "Never mind."
We walked through the deserted halls of the ship; me trailing behind by my wrist which he had a tight hold of. The whole place smelled of dank rust and mold, and I held my breath most of the time until we reached the upper deck.
A rather old and chubby man strode over to Zuko and I once we emerged from below. He smiled at both of us in turn. "Well Zuko, you didn't tell me how pretty this young one is."
I simply stared at him, and Zuko sighed. "Katara, this is my uncle Iroh. Uncle, this is Katara. She's a prisoner." He sounded annoyed.
Iroh looked sternly at his nephew. "That may be so, but she is also a lady. Shouldn't you be treating her as one?"
Zuko scowled. "She is an enemy of the Fire Nation, therefore she receives no special treatment, lady or not. You should know this."
"I may know it, but that does not mean I respect it." Iroh beamed at me. "You should let me escort her into the city, Prince Zuko. It has been a while since I had a beautiful woman to share this country with."
Zuko stiffened. "I'm not sure that is the wisest idea, Uncle. Let me handle this. She is my responsibility after all."
The older man pouted in a childlike manner. "Very well. But you be nice to her now. She may be here because of the Avatar, but that does not mean you cannot treat her like a guest."
I had come to the conclusion that perhaps Iroh was not entirely sane.
After he had left to Agni-knows-where, Zuko pulled me over to where a ramp led off the ship and onto a dock. He talked to a few guards and led me to a carriage of sorts, painted red, gold, and white. As it lurched forward onto the cobblestone streets, I couldn't help but ask, "How long has it been since you've been here?"
He looked startled, but his expression quickly turned into a scowl. "It doesn't matter."
"You've been chasing Aang and the rest of us for quite some time, I can't even remember the last time we weren't afraid of being hunted down and captured. How long has it been since you've been home?"
He looked out the window for several minutes. Finally, he said, "A while. A long while."
"Doesn't that make you sad?"
His face hardened. "No," he said shortly.
A feeling of pity welled inside of me momentarily, before disappearing completely. It wasn't my concern, and I didn't care.
The rest of the ride was spent in silence. He looked stonily out the window, and I kept my gaze trained on my hands, clasped firmly on my lap. The ride lasted several hours before we finally reached the palace.
When we did, Zuko swung the door out immediately, and then offered his hand to me. I ignored him and jumped down myself, landing lightly on my feet. He fixed me with a glare, but led the way into the palace, guards surrounding us. I looked at them warily.
The inside, if possible, was even grander than the outside. The walls were painted red but covered with images of past Fire Lords, places in the Fire Nation, or just fire in general. How cliché. There were intricately patterned tiles placed in the floor, various plants along the walls, and red and white furniture was laid from place to place to place along the ground. But I didn't have too much time to admire.
"Zuko," a falsely sweet voice called out, causing both of us to tense and turn. "How nice to have you home again. And you brought the water peasant too. How lovely."
It was Azula.
