Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar: The Last Airbender.
School's started, and I'm really – busy. Hope this story won't be too long. Maybe I should delete a few of the earlier chapters? Tell me in your reviews, please. (Please review!)
Chapter 14: A New Setting
How much time had passed? She dreaded to think.
Her stomach had turned into a monster within her. Constant pain, a roaring ferocity, a gross, roiling organ.
She felt like tearing herself apart. She needed food. She needed water. She knew that there was no water beyond the four walls in which she was encased. For ten paces, there was no water.
She knew that more than a day had passed. She longed for something, anything, to happen. Come Death or Life, she'd take the deal.
Anything, anything, to free her from this hurt.
Were those – footsteps - outside?
She got up weakly and stumbled to the door just as it opened.
Water.
Quick as a flash, with energy born of a new hope, she grabbed the jug of water in her visitor's hand. Without pausing to think, she tipped her head back and gulped down the precious water.
It was cool and refreshing, if only for a little while. When she had drained the ceramic jug to the last drop, she half-fell, half-sat onto the floor. Putting the jug down, she looked at her visitor.
She winced. It was Prince Scarface, and he had that 'don't look at me' expression on his face.
"Did you," she paused, staring at the floor. Was that really her own voice? It was terrible. "Did you…bring…me here…to kill me?"
She slowly looked up at his face again. He was smirking. She tried to glare at him, but felt that it wasn't the effort. He was just a stinking Fire Nation prince, after all.
"You look terrible." He rasped.
"I know."
The Prince turned and signaled to two of the guards behind him. They entered and picked her up between them. Having not much strength, she knew resistance was futile. She was dumped into a much nicer room after another long walk.
It was much bigger as her former cellar, and much more nicely furnished. A bed, a very comfortable-looking chair and a nice rug were on the floor. Not surprisingly, the dominant colour of the room was red.
But what was she meant to be doing? Where were they taking her? Where was she? A huge pot of questions settled into her mind.
With her dumped into the red bed, her captors turned around and walked away. Hearing the door shut, she lay down and turned away from the door, trying to get some sleep.
"I'm still here, you know."
She did not expect the voice that sounded just behind her ear. Flinching, she turned around to find the Prince sitting on the edge of her new cell-bed. She tried to sit up, but Prince Scarface stopped her and told her gruffly that she needed rest.
"Since when does a captor care whether his captive gets rest or not?"
"What makes you think that I care about you, peasant?"
She opened her mouth, then finding she had no suitable retort, closed it. It was easier to ignore his type. He would go away, eventually. Turning her back on him again, she tried to sleep.
But she couldn't. The Prince's presence behind her, almost touching her back was…well, it was warm, for sure, as all humans were, and maybe a little calming, even…
But he didn't go away. She lay very, very, still, and slowed her breathing, as if she had already fallen asleep.
He didn't move. At all. She found it annoying, but it was also a bit of a relief to have human by her side after her – what seemed like – days of solitude.
Relief?! She twitched a little. How on earth could she have possibly imagined his – the Prince of the Fire Nation's – presence to be a relief?
After a long, long, while, she felt his body moving. He was getting up. Slowly, he walked across the floor, his boots making a low thud, and opened the door.
"I want at least two guards standing here at a time, and tell the cooks that the captive is to allowed food, but any type of moisture will not be more than a teacup a day. We shall see if she would rather drink or use that little amount."
She had a very cautious and intelligent captor…escaping would be hard.
"You are not to permit anyone apart from General Iroh in here. They are not to be trusted. Am I understood?"
His voice was so harsh. It was so obvious that he had been giving orders all his life. She stopped thinking to listen to the guards' reply.
"Yes, Prince Zuko."
And the door slammed shut.
Sitting up, Katara gently spoke the name of the Prince: "Zuko."
----\--/----
Later during the day (or night), she heard somebody knock on her door. An old, masculine voice said, "May I come in?"
Katara was very surprised by this warm manner. It had better not be a farce, she thought.
"I suppose. Who's to stop you?" she replied with the cold but polite voice she usually reserved for rivals.
She heard the sound of bolts being drawn back, chains removed until at last the doorknob turned and her visitor stepped in.
She had not expected the man to have such a kind expression on his face. He was short, had a considerably round girth, wore the armour of the Fire Nation, had a bald crown on the top of his head, wore his remaining hair in a ponytail which adjoined to his flowing beard. In fact, if it hadn't been for the strange expression on his face, he would have been quite formidable.
"Greetings, my young friend. I hope that Prince Zuko hasn't been treating you too roughly. My nephew has a very short and bad temper." He had a strange, indirect sort of accent. It was hard to place, but his tone of voice was very expressive. He sounded just the way he looked. Formidable and commanding when needed to, but mainly gentle.
"Your nephew?" She was curious. How was it that such rash and hot-headed boy had such a thoughtful uncle? Were they even related?
"Yes," he raised both eyebrows a Katara and chuckled. "Didn't see that coming, did you?"
Katara blushed slightly. "Well, yes, I didn't. You're both so different."
"May I sit?" he gestured at the plush red chair.
Katara nodded.
"Before I tell you about my nephew's past, I'd like to enquire as to what your name is."
"I'm Katara."
The old man smiled. "I'm Iroh."