A/N:If the extremely lame and unoriginal title didn't give me away already, yes, this is a Game of Thrones/Zutara crossover fic. Since I can't seem to commit to long chaptered stories at the moment, and because I've been talking about doing this for forever, I've started this. Because I'm batshit crazy. This fic will be written in drabbles—short little bursts of writing, if you will. For when inspiration hits out of nowhere and I don't have much time to write the amount that I'd like. Updates could be three times a day or twice a month. I've been pretty unstable in terms of updating this past year, so if you guys don't want to come along for the ride, I totally get it. But I want to write, so here this is.

"His family had dragons, once. They say dragons blood still runs in his family's veins."

Katara's eyes swivel toward her septa. She narrows them. "Yes, hundreds of years ago," she points out. "Now they're all dead. And if he had dragon's blood perhaps he'd appear more reptilian, no?"

Her septa, the woman who is assigned to teach her and keep her in line, the consistent thorn in her side, does not even bat an eye and Katara's brash attitude. "You should not speak your mind so freely in front of The Dragon Prince. You should remember that one day he shall be your king," her septa politely reminds her.

"I'll speak whatever I like in front of whoever I like."

Katara is nearly positive that her septa is thinking about strangling her. And probably not for the first time, either.

"Just because his family's sigil is a dragon doesn't mean he's an actual dragon. Just like neither I nor my brother are actual wolves."

"And thank the gods for that." The old woman shakes her head and casts her gaze toward the gray sky, fighting a smile.

And this, Katara remembers, is precisely why she secretly likes her septa, despite how irritating she can be.

The chattering of the crowd grows louder as The Dragon Prince comes into view. He nods and makes eye contact with his people from atop his horse, strong jaw set in a serious line and broad shoulders squared. He looks like a leader, a real leader, and yet…

And yet Katara is unimpressed. He looks like any young man around her brother's age, and he probably fights and speaks like them too. The only thing that sets him apart is the crown atop his dark haired head and the fearsome scar that he received from an accident when he was a child.

And yet he is the reason why she and her entire family left their Northern home and traveled here.

The prince's horse starts to pass her.

"What a fierce dragon indeed." Katara makes sure her sarcastic tone can be heard over all the others. Prince Zuko, The Dragon Prince, subtly turns his head in her direction, light eyes darting about in his attempt to locate her. When his gaze finally settles on her she does not incline her head down in a sign of respect like she is inspected to.

Instead she meets his stare fearlessly before turning around and letting the crowds swallow her up. Her septa nearly falls to the ground in her haste to follow her.

Katara smirks to herself. No, she's not very impressed at all.