This is inexcusably late. It kept getting away from me and I could never find a good stopping point and it took me ages to actually write the damn thing. Bleh.
After the princess's ominous announcement, Katara was unceremoniously fished from the pond by a few reluctant servants. Katara's energy was already spent from her earlier display of anger, and she didn't particularly feel like harming people that already had to put up with Azula all day.
She still struggled, of course. No need to make things easy for them — they were still Fire Nation.
One of the servants yelped when one particularly enthusiastic thrash caused a splash larger than what was strictly possible for non-Waterbenders, reared back, and fell onto her behind in the shallows. Katara snickered, but bit her tongue when she realized that Azula and her lackeys were laughing as well.
Crimson-faced and soaked from the waist down, the servant struggled to her feet and wound up for a backhand. Katara flinched back (her head was still sore from her interrogation a few days ago, as she could hardly heal herself in the heart of enemy territory), but the blow never came.
"Did I tell you to hit her?" Azula asked, her words cast in iron. The second servant inched away, and the one who had fallen sank into a ninety degree bow, her hair brushing the pond's surface.
"No, Princess. I overstepped. Please forgive this unworthy one's transgression." The apology was fluent, and obviously a fairly common occurrence within the palace, but her voice still trembled.
"As she is to be my sparring partner, she is not to be harmed by anyone but me or my father, or people acting upon our orders. Is that understood?"
"Yes, Princess," they murmured.
"Then you may rise, and continue with your duties."
The first servant finally straightened her back, and the two resumed dragging Katara back out. She didn't struggle this time, as she couldn't afford to incur Azula's wrath without the use of her (rudimentary) healing abilities.
"I don't feel like sparring you right now," Azula said, inspecting her nails. They had been filed into points, like talons. "I've already humiliated Zuzu today and I'm not really in the mood to do it again." Katara's jaw clenched, and the princess's lips curved slightly in response.
A guard was summoned to haul Katara back to the dungeons. With the skull mask and crimson, hulking armor, she had no way of knowing if this was the same person who had brought her up, but this time she was slung over their shoulder.
For a second, she was back in time, black flakes in the air and her mother's blood on her hands as she watched her aningaaq chase fruitlessly after her. She wondered if Sokka had changed at all, if he missed her, what he was doing right now. Her heart twisted sharply, as if trying to wring out all of her homesickness.
Katara was docile all the way back to her cell, drowning in memories and trying desperately not to cry. When the guard set her down almost gently, apropos of Azula's recent orders, the tides finally came in. It was the first time in almost a week that someone had touched her without the intent to harm. As her cell door slammed shut, she started to sob, uncaring of how her short, uneven hair was plastered to her cheeks or how the straw stuck to her damp skin and clothes. She wished for Hama, for Bao, for Chen.
She knew better than to wish for her family. Impossible dreams were no comfort.
When Katara woke, some time later, there was a tray awaiting her by the gate. But it was decidedly not prison fare. It was arranged beautifully, the both the cup and the tray itself glazed and painted. The cup itself was much larger than the one she was allowed — thirst was a constant companion in her life since she came to the Fire Nation. Beside it was a small plate artfully arranged with a number of white, pink, and green buns.
Katara rolled from her straw pile and inchwormed forward, her limbs still bound. She hadn't stretched properly for days, and her muscles and joints had begun to cramp and stiffen in protest. She tried not to think about what exactly she was smearing all over her front, and tried her best to keep her chin from touching the dried muck on the cell floor. Once she reached the tray, she rolled onto her back and sat up, flexing her much-abused hands behind her.
Someone had thoughtfully left a straw in the cup. She sipped greedily, grateful that she didn't have to lap it up like a dog, or worse, spill it. The tea was bitter, but of much higher quality than the low-grade bancha they served under the arena, which often still had twigs in it. The buns she had to pick up with her teeth, but they were so delicious she didn't spare a thought to the inconvenience. They were delicious, and very filling, full of rich red bean paste.
All too soon, her treat was gone. Katara had never had something so sweet in her life, and berated herself for eating so quickly. But who had bothered to give her this? Was it because she was Azula's new sparring partner? It hardly seemed the Fire Princess's style. She probably thought that getting to fight her was a reward in and of itself. Had some servant or guard taken pity on her? That was almost as unlikely.
She decided not to dwell on it any longer. Katara did not want the spirits to think her ungrateful in her suspicion. "Thank you," she said, soft but heartfelt. "Tui and La, and anyone else watching over me, thank you. Especially whoever gave this to me."
That evening at dinner, Zuko noted that both his sister and his uncle seemed more cheerful than earlier.
Seated beside him, on their father's right, Azula was smirking to herself as she ate. She paid little attention to Ty Lee's chatter from farther down the table. Mai had long since left for her parents' estate just outside the palace, but Ty Lee's parents only ever retrieved their daughter when the princess tired of her company.
Seated across from his sister, at their father's left, was his uncle. Iroh was smiling at nothing in particular, savoring his tea and occasionally slurping at his noodles. Zuko was glad that he had gotten over his funk, but the humming was a little grating. Ozai certainly seemed to think so, but he could hardly reprimand his elder brother, no matter how far Iroh's standing in court had fallen.
Sometimes, Zuko wondered if his uncle did such things on purpose.
"Prince Zuko," Iroh said, momentarily silencing the twittering courtiers at the lower end of the table. The Dragon of the West rarely spoke publicly anymore, though he would readily share meaningless proverbs and anecdotes with any who still bothered to engage him. "What kind of tea do children like best?"
The chatter started up again as the lesser nobles decided that the soft-minded first prince had nothing interesting to say.
"I'm twelve, Uncle. Hardly a child," Zuko said, a little testily.
"Ah, forgive me. Princess Azula?"
"I hardly care about something as inane as tea," Azula snapped, causing another lull in noise. Zuko spotted his father's lips twitch, and he pointedly did not reprimand his daughter.
"I see," Iroh said diplomatically, his smile never falling.
There was an awkward pause, and then the courtiers hurriedly pretended not to be paying attention and re-engaged each other in conversation.
"I like matcha," Ty Lee offered. "It's nice and sweet!"
Iroh gave her his full attention, as if what she was saying was of great import. "A fine choice. What do you think of sencha?"
Zuko tuned them out, uninterested. Beside him, Azula looked annoyed, but did not push her luck.
"The servants inform me that you intend to use the Waterbender as a sparring partner," Ozai said suddenly. Zuko looked up, surprised.
"Yes, father," Azula replied. "I think it would be beneficial to learn how to combat other bending styles, for when we take the North."
Ozai smiled approvingly.
"Then I'll spar with her, too," Zuko blurted.
Azula narrowed her eyes. "No, you won't. She's mine to fight."
"I'll just spar against her on days when you don't!"
"Then I'll fight her every day!"
"Then I'll spar with her after you!"
"Prince Zuko," Iroh interjected, "she is only a child. I do not think that it would be wise to force her to fight two trained Firebenders every day."
Zuko scowled, his face flushing. To be openly scolded by his disgraced uncle! In front of his father, and over the welfare of a prisoner! He could feel Ozai's eyes on him, could see his sister smiling, but he had no idea what to say. He heard the Fire Lord snort derisively, and it took all he had not to sink below the table.
After the final course had been served and the royal family had retired, Iroh drew him aside into a shadowed alcove.
"I'm sorry to have disagreed with you, Prince Zuko. I did not fully consider your position."
"You humiliated me in front of my father, and for what?!" Zuko snapped. "The comfort of some filthy Waterbender?!"
His uncle's face hardened. "The child is going through enough already. There is no need to add to her hardships."
"What hardships?" he growled. "She's in the palace of the greatest nation in the world! If anything, she's better off here than in some tent, raised as a savage in a backwater tribe!"
"You know nothing if that is what you truly believe," Iroh said, and Zuko stilled. He had never heard his uncle speak so solemnly. Half of his face was cast in shadow, his eyes glowing with faint lantern light, and his expression was not that of Iroh, the abdicated prince, or even that of the proud, fearsome Dragon of the West. It was the face of a wise, sorrowful old man, a warrior who had seen and lost too much.
His surprise must have shown on his too-expressive face, because his uncle's expression softened. "Good night, nephew. I will see you tomorrow."
Despite her mixed feelings about fighting Azula, and her fear for her father's life, once he learned she was alive, Katara's spirits had raised considerably. The sweet buns proved that someone in the palace — perhaps an Earth Kingdom spy! — was sympathetic to her plight, and wanted to help her.
Tui and La were looking out for her, as one of their favored children, and she felt that her situation was not so hopeless. Whatever was done to her, she would survive; her value as a bargaining chip guaranteed it. Maybe her father's warriors would mount a rescue mission! Maybe the North would finally come to their aid, if they knew the last of their sister tribe's benders was still held captive! Maybe the spy would help her escape!
Katara paused, and snorted at herself. "Yeah, maybe the Avatar will come back, too," she muttered. Nevertheless, she still felt more hope than she had in years.
As the hours passed, Katara became anxious. The prison beneath the castle was still horrifying, and she shrank into the shadows whenever interrogators pulled a struggling victim or a limp body past the bars of her cage. Would she look like that, when Azula was done with her?
Finally, when her only meal of the day was well behind her, a guard from above came to fetch her. This time she was held under their arm like a rolled-up futon, their gauntlet and bracer digging into her concave belly with every step taken. The combination of nausea, hunger, and discomfort was interesting, but unpleasant, and she distracted herself by counting the people they passed in the halls. The number was not reassuring when compared to her father's warriors.
The floor beneath her changed from stone to tile to wood to carpet to grass. Katara squinted at the sudden burst of sunlight, craning her neck to see the sky and scowling at the distinct lack of clouds. The guard carrying her, who wasn't even panting under the burden of their armor and her (admittedly slight) weight, marched straight through the garden this time, and arrived at a wide courtyard with a paved floor instead of hard-packed dirt or sand.
"The princess scared of a little dirt?" Katara sneered, and received a belligerent jostle that made her clamp her lips shut and focus on keeping her lunch where she wanted it.
"Finally," Azula said pointedly, and the soldier snapped to attention. Katara looked up as best she could, and found the princess and her two lackeys sitting at a shaded table piled high with various delicious-looking dishes and pitchers of cool drinks. Her stomach rumbled audibly, and she flushed at Ty Lee's giggle.
"You can put her down," Azula ordered, and the guard did so, uncaring of which end of her hit the ground first. Katara swayed dangerously, but stayed mercifully upright. When the guard reached for her chains, Azula waved them away.
"I'd like our prisoner to keep us company while we eat. You can unchain her afterwards."
"I won't be much good in a fight if I haven't stretched," Katara blurted, ignoring the noticeable surprise on the girls' faces at her gall. She was desperate to move her limbs, to regain the feeling in her extremities. She was desperate not to embarrass herself in their upcoming spar.
Azula smirked. "I forgot how mouthy you can be, sometimes. Very well." She flicked her fingers at the guard, who hesitated only a moment before doing as she asked.
Katara sighed in relief when the weight of her chains was lifted, immediately rubbing at her wrists and ankles and frowning at the rawness she found.
"Don't I get a 'thank you, Princess Azula?'" Azula asked, all honey and venom.
Katara looked at the set of her brows and mouth, the gleam in her eyes, and sensed that she was pushing her luck. She decided to push it some more. "Thank you, Princess Azula," she replied, just as sweetly. "I just wanted to ensure that I wouldn't bore you."
Azula smiled again. "Very well. That's more than I can say for most people in this castle."
Behind the princess, Ty Lee shifted nervously, and Mai's omnipresent scowl grew just a tad. Katara shot them her biggest grin. "Considering your friends, I can see why that might be a problem."
This time, Azula laughed outright. It was quick and sharp, almost as if surprised out of her, and it ended just as quickly. "You're just as brazen as your mentor. We'll soon see if you have the skill to back it up."
Katara fell silent, and Azula's shoulders shifted downwards a fraction. She turned back to her companions and joined them at their table. Ty Lee shot Katara a pitying look that she couldn't bring herself to scowl at through her nerves. Mai's lips just quirked.
While the three nobles ate and chatted, Katara moved through one of the katas that Hama had shown her. After over a week in chains, it was harder than she remembered, and she grew even hungrier and thirstier than she had been before. She tried not to look at the table too often, but she was sure that they knew just how much it distracted her. Ty Lee remarked on how delicious everything was almost as often as her father did when Emaa-Emaa made sea prunes.
Her lips pinched at the unwelcome memory, and she forced herself to focus on her forms. She could be homesick in her cell.
Azula took her sweet time, lingering over her food and making unflattering observations on her athleticism to Mai and Ty Lee, who either snorted or giggled just loud enough to irritate her. She ground her teeth ever harder, and knew that she was reacting exactly how Azula wanted her to. Realizing that she was being successfully manipulated just made her temper worse, instead of better, but she put her anger into her movements, enough to make her forceful but not sloppy.
"Well, that was tedious," the princess remarked, once Katara had come back into a neutral stance. "Are you as slow physically as you are mentally?"
Katara whirled and stomped over, the amusement on the girls' faces incensing her further. "Big words, coming from a pampered royal brat," she hissed, the pitchers on their picnic table trembling from the force of their contents jerking toward her, eager to serve as her weapon. "What, still upset that your big brother noticed something you didn't and told daddy before you could?"
Azula stood up abruptly, even as her companions went pale. The sneer on her face would normally make Katara retreat, but all she could feel was satisfaction on seeing her own rage reflected back to her by a girl who had caused so much of it.
"If you're that desperate to get burnt to a crisp, then I'd be happy to get started a little early," Azula said coldly, even as the air around her shimmered with heat.
Katara responded by upsetting all their pitchers and cups ("I was drinking that," Mai griped, a little shakily, as she and Ty Lee evacuated to the observation balcony) and shooting frozen milk daggers directly at Azula's eyes. She dodged via a perfectly executed backbend, resting her weight on her hands and kicking two surges of flame towards her opponent. Katara was forced to make a shield, grimacing as a large portion of her element went up in steam. She could reform it, but it would take time and energy that she couldn't spare.
Azula's kicks turned into a handspring and she was on her feet again, punching a fireball that Katara dodged easily. Her expression was calculating, as Katara could tell she was being gauged, but anger and satisfaction had overwhelmed the fear that she lived with daily. It was intoxicating.
Katara threw out a crescent blade of ice that shattered under the heat of Azula's retaliatory fire, but she had been counting on that, and had left intentional cracks that made it explode outward, much more quickly and with far greater force than she could yet manage on her own. Hama had taught her that fire's volatile power made it almost as dangerous to the wielder, and that the most reliable way to defeat a stronger opponent was to target their control.
Surprised, Azula crossed her arms in front of her face defensively, and Katara pressed her advantage. The frozen shrapnel that had gone towards her quickly melted under her command, and after Azula had weathered a rain of jagged ice and put her arms back into a bending position, a blast of water hit her full force in the stomach and knocked her backwards.
Katara hadn't counted on the princess keeping her feet, and was thus unprepared for the viper-quick blast of flame. She twisted away, unable to form a shield quick enough, and screamed when she felt her part of her back and left hip get bathed in fire. The intimately familiar scent of burnt flesh invaded her nostrils and her memories, but she ignored the searing pain and continued her twirl, a full circle. She sent a clumsy but forceful rain of icicles in the direction that the fire had come from, her vision blurry with tears.
Azula was still there, clearly not expecting her to continue fighting, and had to jump to the side to avoid getting skewered. She shot another stream of flame, and so their battle raged on.
Zuko had been with one of his Firebending teachers when he heard the sounds of an out-and-out brawl from the courtyard next to his. It was bigger and with better access to the sun, and so reserved for Azula's use.
"What in Agni's name is that?" the latest tutor yelped, her shock a welcome respite from her thinly veiled disdain for his bending skills.
Azula must be fighting the Waterbender! Zuko realized, equal parts incensed and excited. Most Fire Nation citizens had never and would never see a Waterbender other than the Puppetmaster in action. As much as he wished he could have an opportunity to fight her, an opportunity to observe was almost as good.
He dashed off without bothering to retrieve his shirt or shoes, smirking just a little at his teacher's indignant, "Prince Zuko!"
He arrived just in time to see the Waterbender's blade explode, and had to duck behind the iron railing of the observation balcony to avoid the higher flying shards of ice. He registered someone huddled beside him, and made a moment's eye contact with a wide-eyed Ty Lee before he was up again, not wanting to miss a second of the fight. As soon as Zuko's head had cleared the railing, a blast of — what was that, juice? — hit his sister and sent her skidding back, her normally schooled expression slack with shock and pain. Was she losing?
But no, Azula never lost. She recovered faster than Zuko could manage even against a teacher trying not to hurt him. There was a scroll-perfect fire blast and a shriek of pain that set his teeth on edge and that, Zuko figured, was that, as it was whenever Azula landed a hit on an opponent.
But the Waterbender kept fighting, unphased, even as tears streamed down her cheeks and were simply pulled to join the rest of her element, as if her pain was just another weapon. She never let Azula rest, forcing her to dance around the courtyard with frozen, jagged blades and thin tendrils of water that cracked like whips against every surface they hit. She was making her defense her offense, trying to tire Azula out, but Zuko knew it wouldn't beat her; he had tried the same tactic himself, before.
What was amazing was that she was making his sister work for her victory.
Usually, when Azula sparred, she was openly bored. Their teachers did not dare use potentially damaging attacks against a royal, even though she outclassed many of them, and she ran rings around Zuko no matter how hard he fought. But now, even as she dodged lethal hail and shot quick blasts of superheated flames, she was grinning, her face and movements energetic and enthusiastic, as if she was seconds away from laughing in delight.
The Waterbender, in contrast, was heavily wounded; Zuko could see where her tunic had burnt away, could see the angry red burn beneath. He was no stranger to burns, and something like that would have him out of commission fairly quickly. But she was still fighting like a cornered animal, trading lightning-quick attacks with his sister, her teeth bared in a challenging snarl, her tears still coming and instantly put to use. Where had she learned to fight with wounds like that?
Oh, Zuko thought. He felt a little bit sick. He pushed the thought from his mind, but it lingered in his stomach, even as he focused on the spectacle below him.
But all too soon, most of her water had turned to steam, and she was weakening, favoring her left side and trembling with pain and fatigue. Azula circled closer and closer, like a catyena, and when she spotted a crack in the Waterbender's defenses she shattered them completely. She darted forward and forced the Waterbender to her knees, one hand at her head and the other at her chest, able to roast her in an instant.
Azula and the girl stared into each other's eyes for a long moment, both breathing heavily, the Waterbender's gasps interspersed with soft, involuntary noises of pain. She was still crying, but quietly, her tears thin from heat and dehydration. Zuko noticed, from the corner of his eye, that the courtyard was ringed with spectators, soldiers and servants alike. Even the balcony was full of courtiers, though they had left a respectful distance between themselves and the prince and Azula's friends.
The Waterbender — Katara, she had said her name was Katara — broke the silence. "Well?" she croaked, chest heaving. "Kill me."
Katara's heart was hammering in her chest, but she refused to look away from Azula's bright golden eyes. She would look a monster in the face and greet it with courage. She was her mother's daughter, after all.
There was a long pause. Azula's face, still flushed and open from their fight, showed a microsecond of confusion before her composed Fire Princess mask slammed down once more.
"Idiot," she said, and stepped back, arms lax by her sides. "I can't kill you. You're a political prisoner."
Katara teetered for a moment, disbelieving, before the trembling in her limbs won out and she fell facedown. Adrenaline, confusion, and overwhelming relief warred in her brain, and she said, "Oh. I figured you'd kill me anyway."
"I could," the princess reassured her. "But I'm tired right now and I don't feel like it."
"Okay," Katara said agreeably. Wow, did all Fire Nation courtyards spin like this?
Passing out while surrounded by Firebenders wasn't what her sifu would want her to do. Katara did it anyway.
The entire courtyard stared at the Waterbender for about thirty excruciating seconds before it became apparent that she was unconscious.
His sister sighed. "Someone bring her to the infirmary," she ordered. "And clean her up, too, she's filthy."
A few servants inched forward.
"Use a stretcher, imbeciles," Azula snapped, a little half-heartedly. "And bring me something to drink. I'll be in my chambers." She marched off, not completely masking the stiffness in her limbs or the way she tried not to move her torso.
Once the Waterbender and Azula were gone, chatter in the courtyard grew louder and louder, even as people began to drift out.
"...a child…"
"...political prisoner?..."
"...Puppetmaster…"
"...Southern Water Tribe…"
"...the Puppetmaster…"
"...her pupil?..."
Eventually, only Zuko, Mai, and Ty Lee were left, along with a few servants hovering discreetly behind them in case they needed someone.
"That was… really amazing," said Ty Lee, a little enviously.
"I guess," Mai muttered, eyeing Zuko surreptitiously. Before his mother had vanished, he used to get along with her pretty well, but he hadn't actually spoken to her one-on-one since then.
Besides, right now he had more pressing concerns on his mind.
"I guess she really is the daughter of the Southern Water Tribe Chieftain," Zuko said, half to himself. Furious whispers broke out from the cluster of servants behind them.
"That didn't prove anything," Mai said.
"I've heard lots of stories about the Southern Water Tribe and their chief, though," Ty Lee speculated. "They say that they fight like wolves, and kill as many as they can if they get surrounded. It's supposed to be impossible to take one of them alive. And their war chief, Hakoda, is supposed to be the smartest of them all. They chose him, out of all the other chieftains, to lead the fight against the Fire Nation."
"Where'd you hear all that?" Zuko asked suspiciously.
"Azula and I sometimes eavesdrop on the admirals," she confessed, rocking back and forth on her heels.
"So?" asked Mai. "She's a simpleton."
"Not when it comes to fighting Firebenders," Zuko pointed out, and started for the stairs, the servants falling silent and scattering.
"Zuko, where are you going?" Mai asked, following him for a few steps but stopping when he didn't bother to pause or even look back.
"The infirmary," he said, and bounded down the steps.
The buns are called daifuku, btw. Katara's just not familiar with them.
Well. Some shit went down in this chapter, none of which I am actually confident about. This is one of the chapters where different aspects of Katara's character shine through, aspects that she has shown hints of in the show but were never really addressed, and so I'm terrified that it comes across as wildly OOC. Katara's incredibly high emotional intelligence is something that is always shown as a 100% morally righteous type thing, but she could get pretty damn nasty sometimes, in the few instances in the show where she got really mad at people before her heart of gold caught up to her. She knows exactly what some people need to hear - but she also knows exactly what to say to make you hurt, to make you feel the way she wants you to feel.
I'm also not terribly confident with how I wrote Azula. If I butchered her please help me out. I think that she was a little less of a criminal mastermind at 10, and I want Azutara (friend)shippy moments, but if I can't do it properly I'd like to know how to do it better.
Also, fair warning: I am not a Mai fan. As a villain, I loved her, but as a love interest? No. Her "redemption" was shitty and she was just a fundamentally bad person before Bryke retconned everything (very poorly btw) to try to give some actual credence to the pairing. So I will not be portraying Maiko in a positive light here. I won't with Kataang, either, but seeing as their meeting and dynamic will be dramatically shifted, unlike Mai and Zuko's, there will just be less Kataang interaction all around. No offence to Kataang or Maiko or Mai or Aang fans. I just thought that they were not written in a healthy way, especially in season 3.
Please share your thoughts! I hope a few of you are still reading.