Disclaimer: …What could possibly make you think that I own Avatar? Would I have under any circumstance incorporated that kiss? …Okay, so I might have. But I don't own it anyway.
AN: I began writing this at about 3:30 in the morning, on a night of dreadful insomnia preceding a kind-of-important history test. Yeah. Thus the horrific title. And I'm currently dressed as a pirate. The lack of detail is intentional—certain things I had planned out, and then I realized how ridiculous they really were to try and explain. So I beg of you, dear readers, use your imagination to fill in any gaps you may find, because there are plenty. Motive, result, etc—that's what one-shots are all about, ne? And keep in mind that I wrote this to have at least two interpretations, so tell me what you think.
AN2: This little oneshot is dedicated to Wolfhawk and Khi, both of whom I have criminally neglected for far too long. Please forgive my absence.
Your humble servant,
Masako Moonshade
Past Midnight
The plan was supposed to be simple—because simple meant hard to mess up, which was kind of important for big stuff like this. It also usually implied that it would be hard to forget, but that didn't help Katara any as the hand clapped over her mouth.
"Don't move," that too-familiar voice hissed in her ear. She demonstrated just how brilliantly obedient she was by biting his hand. The voice cried out, he released her—
She heard footsteps rushing toward the room. Heavy, armored footsteps.
She reached for her water skin, all hopes of secrecy ruined, when that detested hand shot out again, seized her around the waist and threw her down. Hard.
"Prince Zuko!" The room was suddenly flooded with light as two guards burst through the door. But Katara saw none of this—nothing but a haze of red.
"Wh-what is it?" yawned the young man who lay sprawled across the floor. He was hopelessly tangled in his bedsheets, though parts of the crimson silk still clung defiantly to his bed.
"We… um…" The taller guard looked slightly uncomfortable. "Heard something, your highness."
The prince looked blearily at the bed, then at the floor on which he was sitting, then back up at the men. "I fell out of bed," he said, barely coherent in his sleep-addled state. "Too bad, though… I had a really good dream…" He yawned again.
"Oh," the guard bowed low. "Pardon the intrusion, your highness. We'll let you get back to sleep."
"G'nigh…" the prince mumbled, dragging himself to his feet despite the blankets that bound him. The door shut, and again his bedchamber fell into darkness. Immediately he stood upright, all illusions of sleep cast aside as he stepped out of the mess. He seized one edge of the blanket and cast it aside. The Water Tribe girl was wedged between his bed and the floor, no longer concealed by the stretch of fabric. She tried to pry herself out of the tiny space. Her water skin had slid halfway under the bed and out of reach—otherwise she would have frozen him and his guards solid by now.
"What was that all about?" she demanded, her voice as hushed as aggression would allow.
"Quiet," he hissed. "Or they'll come back!" He got uncomfortably close again, and she recoiled away. When he spoke, his voice was all but inaudible: "Most of the people here think the Avatar is dead," he said.
Katara prayed that the darkness hid her surprise; it was all she could do not to gasp. "What are you talking about?" she hissed. "Your sister killed him, remember?"
"I know he's alive," he whispered. "And Azula's already guessed, so don't depend on a surprise attack."
"You can't stop us." Her back hit something solid—it was the bedroom wall. Still somehow Zuko remained disturbingly close.
"My uncle is being kept in the dungeon," he continued. "It's the center cell against the north wall. Usually there's around three guards in that building, but there will probably be more, so be ready for them. He knows more about this palace and its defenses than I do; he can help you if you get him out." It didn't make sense. None of it made any sense. Why was… what…? "And you remember what Azula is capable of. She's got more tricks up her sleeve, so don't let your guard down. I'll try to distract Mai, but don't count on her not being there, and watch out for Ty Lee."
"Why are you telling me this?" Katara asked. Zuko stood up quickly, but his stance had changed. Once again he looked sleepy and sluggish, and he trudged past his window, blinking out into the gloom. Satisfied, he subtly beckoned to her. She darted back towards his bed, grabbing her water skin before she tentatively crept to his side.
"Why are you doing this?" she asked again. If not for the darkness, she might have seen his sad, grim smile. She might have understood just a fraction of what his act meant to his family, to his country, to himself. She might have guessed that he still wondered whom he had betrayed with this act. She might have weighed this single moment more heavily when the final consequences were dealt.
"Because," he said, so soft that it was barely a murmur in the dark air. "I finally understand what it means to have Honor."
And he released her like a bird into the night, to pass his warnings to her friends. Once she was out of sight he returned to sit on his bed, but he did not sleep. The coming dawn would shape History forever; Zuko wanted to be there to see it.
