Sorry this is so late. I was planning for a lot more to happen but then it took forever to actually type and practically nothing had happened yet and I figured that I should just give up and publish the damn thing. The next chapter will be eventful, to say the least. Hope you enjoy!
Warning for the abuse and interrogation of a minor, and some suicidal ideation. It's not as graphic as some of the other stuff in this fic, but it's still pretty bad.
When Katara was summoned by her master several hours later, she was not sure if it was anger or terror making her fists tremble. The huge guard escorting her was less aggressive than usual, either because he was reminded of just how easily Hama could literally take him apart, or perhaps leery of joining the scarred woman in the infirmary, as if antagonizing the Waterbender might offend the Fire Princess. The woman's punishment had been brief, but the medics were still stitching up the shredded skin on her back. That, at least, was the advantage prisoners had after punishments; the flames on the scourges the guards favored tended to melt the skin back together, even as it tore.
They were never offered help with injuries the guards decided they deserved, anyway. It was almost as common to die from infection in the compound as it was to get killed in an actual duel.
As soon as she was inside the luxuriously furnished cell, Katara sank to one knee, bracing one open palm on her thigh and the other on the carpet, and bowed her head. It was a position traditionally used in the Water Tribes to acknowledge another's superiority, or to beg for something not easily granted. Due to her tribe's relaxed hierarchy, she had only seen it used once, during the funeral of her father's predecessor, when the entire village had paid their respects. No matter how upset she was with her teacher, Hama owned her, and the questions she wanted to ask were safer when posed from a position of utmost reverence.
The guard paused in the doorway, surprised and obviously curious about her actions.
"Leave us," Hama ordered, tone hard. He hurried to comply, and as soon as the door slammed shut, she released a tired sigh. Every long, arduous year she had lived weighed heavily in her voice when she spoke again. "I expect you have questions, Katara. You may speak."
"I don't understand why you had to be so . . . so cruel, in your match against Tyro. And after, with the guards — you're powerful enough to kill all of them, but you didn't even try." Her voice trembled with accusation, but she still didn't dare to lift her head. She studied the curling blue dragon under her hand, inhaled the scent of fire lilies from the candles, and waited.
"I have tried before," Hama said tiredly. "But we are in the heart of the Fire Nation, Katara, with Firebenders on every side. I was lucky to escape with my life the first time, and even then, it was only because healed myself. I am too dangerous for them to allow for my survival a second time. They would eventually put me down, no matter how many of them I killed first."
Katara nodded once, conceding the point. She had only thought of the guards, and not the people in the stands. And even if one did manage to defeat all of them, there was an entire city of enemies beyond that. Katara wondered if even the fabled Avatar, who had disappeared so long ago, would be able to escape were they in Hama's position.
"As for Tyro, the reason is simple. Why do you think that I've been the champion for so long?"
"Because you're powerful, master."
Hama chuckled raspily. "Not quite, nuusiq. The answer is that I am entertaining."
Confused, Katara began to raise her head, but caught herself and anchored her gaze on Hama's feet.
"The freedom duels aren't simply a handy way of eliminating enemy benders. First and foremost, they are a business," Hama elaborated, contempt curling around every syllable. "Death is not enough for these pigs. They want pain. They want to see us desperate. The outcome of my matches are always a foregone conclusion. Were I to simply kill my opponents as soon as I saw them, they would get bored of me. So I would be killed, and then replaced."
Katara closed her eyes briefly, absorbing what her master had said. She was too afraid, too confused, too angry. She didn't understand, didn't want to understand.
Tyro's screams still echoed in her ears.
"I am tired," Hama said, silencing Tyro a second time. "Have the guard take you back. Think on what I have told you."
The next day, Katara was summoned again, but not by Hama. This time, her escorts were soldiers, with ornate red armor and bone white masks. They collected her from the main hall without even bothering to tie her hands, guards and prisoners alike watching in awed, intimidated silence. Chen's eyes met hers, wide and afraid, and Katara did her best to smile reassuringly. She sent a beseeching glance at Bao, who nodded grimly and gripped Chen's shoulder, and then the doors of the hall clanged shut behind her.
They moved up through the metal corridors and eventually out of the compound altogether. Katara was thrilled to feel dirt beneath her feet, rather than metal or blood-soaked sand, but her heart beat hard in her chest. Were they going to execute her, because she was the chieftain's daughter? Were they going to imprison her someplace even worse, where she'd never see the sky again?
As they turned onto the main street, the one that led to the palace, Katara realized that the answer was likely a whole lot worse. She became aware of curious, slightly derisive stares, and resisted the urge to stare at her feet. Instead, she squared her shoulders, set her jaw, and met them head on. The men, surprisingly, looked away more often, but the women tended to return her glares.
As they made their way through the palace grounds, Katara had to grudgingly admit that the capital was beautiful, if only on the surface. The clothes, the architecture, the plants, the weather, and even a sizeable number of the citizens were gorgeous, no matter how ugly their actions were.
It was ironic, she reflected, that the coldest thing about this spirits-forsaken land was its people.
The grounds inside the gates were even more breathtaking. Ornate red and gold pavilions dotted the manicured yards, flower patches splashing the green grass with other colors. Ancient, slender trees ringed a few different ponds, each connected by a wandering brook. There were even tiny bridges, though the water itself could be easily crossed with a step. Autumn was fast approaching, but the Fire Nation was temperate enough that only a few trees and bushes had begun to change color, dropping orange and yellow leaves like snow in slow motion. It was one of the most beautiful places Katara had ever seen in her life.
All she could think of was that she wanted blue.
A guard abruptly took her shoulder in a bruising grip, and for a second she thought that they were worried she would try to bend. But then she was forced to her knees, and then her hands, and finally her forehead was pressed into the cobblestone pathway. She instinctively struggled against the gauntleted hand on the back of her neck, but froze at a familiar voice.
"Father, why is the Southern Waterbender here?"
Katara had only spoken to the Fire Princess once, but it was not a day that she would easily forget.
"Your brother informed me that she claimed to be Hakoda's daughter. She was brought here so that it could be ascertained whether she told the truth. She could be very useful."
The Fire Lord's voice was deep and smooth, but Katara shuddered at the sound, all the same. The man standing only a few feet away for her was responsible for the deaths of tens of thousands, and could cause her own with a mere word.
He was going to use her against her tribe, all because she couldn't keep her mouth shut. The world spun dangerously around her, and she was unspeakably grateful that she was already on the ground. She would not shame her mother by fainting in front of an enemy, when Kya had protected her so courageously two years ago.
"I thought you were already aware, father, or I would have told you myself—"
"But you didn't," Fire Lord Ozai said icily, and Azula fell silent. Katara surprised herself by feeling a flash of sympathy for the girl, which she quickly quashed.
"You may rise," the Fire Lord said, and Katara was hauled to her feet. She wasn't brave enough to look the Fire Lord in the face, so she instead turned to the princess, and was unsurprised to find her scowling at her. It wasn't Katara's fault that she had been scolded, and the injustice of Azula having the gall to be displeased with her when she was a the one who was imprisoned brought a challenging frown to her face.
One of the soldiers cuffed her skull none too gently for her disrespect, and Katara stumbled forward, refusing to be knocked down again. She was yanked back before she could collide with any royals, and she planted her feet once they let go of her, sick of being manhandled. Her eyes watered in response to the pain, and Azula gave an unladylike snort of mixed amusement and disgust.
The Fire Lord watched this exchange in silence, and then ordered the soldiers to take her to be interrogated. As they led her away, despite her dread, Katara felt incredibly relieved to leave the pair behind.
Instead of using the main entrance, which was presumably reserved for the court, they circled around the side of the palace. The grounds grew less beautiful and more utilitarian, and grim-faced imperial officers and meek, stressed servants replaced the courtiers and wealthy merchants who sought an audience with the king.
There were several gates leading out into the city along the way, and Katara realized that they had brought her here in the most public manner available. For whatever reason, they wanted her to be seen in the palace, by as many people as possible.
They soon reached a heavy iron door in one of the stone courtyards where a cohort of soldiers practiced their drills under the watchful eye of a senior officer. They were too well-trained to become openly distracted from their training, but more than a few shot curious looks her way when they thought their superior wasn't watching.
The hallway beyond the door was well-lit but barren. This was a section of the castle meant for its defenders, for withstanding a siege. She was hustled deeper into its bowels, passing empty cells and rooms filled with tables with leather straps across them and pointed, barbaric tools, stained black on their various blades and spikes. She could hear faint screams echoing through the corridors, but she didn't know if they came from people or her own frightened imagination.
Was she going to be tortured for information?! She hadn't been home since she was a little girl, and knew next to nothing of the warriors' plans. Were they trying to scare her into obedience? Would they torture her, just to make sure she was telling the truth?
Katara found herself longing to be back in the arena.
They soon arrived in an empty, dark room. They shoved her into a chair and locked her down with the iron bars attached to its arms and legs, and left her there, the door slamming ominously shut behind them. The door allowed no light into the room, and Katara could only hear her own loud, panicked gasps and beating heart.
She did not know how long she sat there, too scared to cry or even blink, imagining a hundred horrible deaths that played out vividly in her mind's eye. It might have been a relief, when the door finally opened once more, had she not been absolutely certain that a Firebender could come up with a million ways to hurt her that would never even cross her mind.
A trio of soldiers marched in, two with balls of fire hovering over their palms to light the room, revealing dark, suspect stains on the floor and walls. Katara caught a glimpse of a strangely familiar insignia on one woman's shoulder before the trio turned to face her. The man standing between the two masked soldiers was even more nostalgic, but she couldn't quite place him—
"Well, brat," he mused, "Can't say I expected you to last this long."
Katara froze. It was the soldier from the boat — her soldier, the only person she'd seen her entire time in the brig, two long years ago.
She jerked against her bonds, lips pulled back in a feral snarl. The masked soldiers flinched infinitesimally in surprise, either at the sudden movement or the sudden ferocity. "Where is he? Where's the monster that burned my aana?"
"Captain Rha, you mean?" he asked, with a sardonic smirk. "Currently enjoying his retirement."
Katara wanted to wail at the injustice of it all. Her mother was probably suffering right now, disfigured by burns, and he didn't even have the decency to die, to save her the trouble of hunting him down. "I'm going to kill him. I'll escape from here, and I'll kill him"
The soldier kicked her chair over without warning, then grabbed her by the hair, wrenching her head up at an uncomfortable angle. "We're not here to listen to you badmouth a distinguished veteran, you little Water Tribe bitch," he said conversationally, but his yellow eyes glittered with the foul temper she had so feared as a child. "We're here to find out if you're really that cowardly chief's daughter, like you had the gall to claim to Princess Azula. You'd better answer truthfully, or you will regret it." He twisted his fist in her hair and then slammed her already bruised head back against the metal floor.
Katara saw stars, and felt something warm and wet start to pool under her skull. She was afraid, so afraid, and tears were running from her eyes into her hair and ears. But, more than that, she was enraged. She would not let him win.
"'M not," she said thickly, voice trembling. "I lied. I thought I'd get special treatment. Please stop hurting me."
"I knew it. They never even bothered to come after you, you know. There's no way you're that ice rat's spawn."
Katara turned her head to the side, her lips trembling. She knew that their ships were slower — the main reason the Southern Raiders targeted their benders was to cripple their superior naval power. Hama had told her.
They couldn't risk rescue operations, either, not even in Hama's time. Their boats were made of wood, which made boarding a Fire Nation vessel a suicide mission. Even in Hama's time, their tribe's warriors were too few to risk them.
That didn't make it hurt any less.
"Whose child are you, anyway?" her soldier asked, straightening up and resting a boot on her sternum.
"Bato," she said. "The chief's second."
The soldier stilled, then stomped on her stomach, then spat in her eye. "Bato's proclivities are known even to us, you lying bitch. Don't underestimate the intelligence gathering of a superior nation." He growled like a polar bear dog, frustrated, and turned to his fellows. "Liars don't recant that easily, anyway, and she looks a lot like their chief, even if those rats all look the same. She was telling the truth to the Princess," he announced, then hauled her chair back upright. The world lurched and spun, and Katara tried desperately not to vomit.
"Should've figured they had no honor. Leaving their chief's daughter for dead. And she's their last bender, too. I would have expected nothing less." His disgust was evident, and she wanted to scream at him that they had no other choice, that they had been devastated by war, that her life was nothing when weighed against her tribe —
That she wanted her father to beg for her forgiveness.
"Gimme a kunai," her soldier ordered, holding out an expectant hand. The nearest underling hurried to obey, and he pushed her chin into her chest and sliced through her braid in one clean motion. "We'll be taking this with us," he stated, handing it off to the woman. "Scorch the ends a little, make it look bad." Katara's stomach churned at the scent of burning hair.
He paused in the doorway of her cell, silhouette completely dark now that his escorts and their fire had left. "You're in luck, princess," he mocked. "I can't kill you, now that you're useful. More useful to us than to your tribe, it seems." The door slammed shut, and Katara was left in darkness once again.
She sat there, trying not to pass out, hating herself, and wishing that he had.
Hang in there, guys. I swear it'll get exciting again soon. The next time Katara deals with someone trying to beat her face in, she will do some face beating in response, pinky promise.
Edited May 14, 2018.