Title: The Hunter and The Prey
Category: Avatar: Last Airbender
Author: RedNovember
Chapter: 8
Genre: Romance/Action
Pairing: Zuko/Katara
Rating: T (PG-13) for now, but if I have to up it to M (or R) I will.
Disclaimer: I do not own any part of this series. However, the
fanfiction written, the plot contained and any original characters I
write I do own.
A/N: PLEASE READ THE AUTHOR'S NOTES AT THE END OF THE CHAPTER! THEY ARE IMPORTANT, AND THEY ARE THERE FOR A REASON, BELIEVE IT OR NOT! Thank you.
Chapter 8: Yesterday
Yesterday, all my troubles seemed so far awayNow it looks as if they're here to stay
Oh, I believe in Yesterday…
For two whole hours after Zuko had left, Katara lay on the ground where she'd landed. It felt like an eternity as she stared up at the ceiling, blinking salty tears out of her eyes. They dribbled down her cheeks, mixing with the smudges of dried blood on her face, creating muddy-red rivers.
It quickly became unclear whether she was crying blood or bleeding tears.
Her bruised muscles grew stiff long before she finally decided to get up from where she'd laid, jumped in a pile of furniture. Zuko hadn't exactly been thinking of comfort when he'd picked her up and thrown her to the floor, Katara thought bitterly.
She raised her upper torso above the table legs underneath her. She almost cried out in pain before biting her lips, afraid someone might hear. She didn't want anyone to see her in the state she was in now. Her ribs must be heavily bruised. She dearly hoped they weren't broken. That would definitely put a damper on her cheery mood.
Limping up from the ground, she stumbled over to the mirror on the desk to check the extent of her injuries.
An unwelcome sight greeted her in the cracked surface of the mirror. Her face was a complete mess.
Dark, brownish-red blood caked her face, shirt, arms, and hair. She looked at it all with a sort of emotional detachment. She didn't know whether it was Rishku's blood, Sokka's blood, Zuko's blood, or her own. She supposed it didn't really matter at this point. It was only blood, after all.
Numerous other bruises covered her body, including one placed high on her left cheekbone. She ran her hands lightly over it before quickly drawing her fingers away, wincing in pain. Lifting Zuko's shirt up, she checked the mass of purple-blue spots on her ribs. Just by feeling, she could tell her hip bones and legs were hurt as well.
Katara looked at her reflection again, checking the bruises Zuko's hand had left on her neck. They resembled a necklace of dark pearls encircling her throat.
"And he gave a necklace of promise to his true love." She whispered, remembering the line from a fairy tale she'd heard before. The irony of it did not escape her.
Unable to look at herself in the mirror any longer, she limped to the bed, laying down gingerly on the mattress. Sighing, she rolled onto her side in order to lessen the pain, as the bruises on her back were the most extensive.
Inhaling deeply, she took in the scent Zuko had left behind on his pillow from previous nights. It smelled of smoke and something else that pushed at her mind familiarly. She couldn't place the smell exactly. She probably even smelled like him by now, wearing his clothes everyday and sleeping in his bed every night. The notion wasn't disgusting to her. Just sad.
She closed her eyes tightly, and wondered sorrowfully to herself how things could have changed so dramatically in one day. This morning she had been lying in this bed, in the comfortable embrace of that man. And now she was lying in the bed again, alone, hurting from pain given to her by the same man who had held her so close that very morning.
She pushed all her thoughts away, wishing the black darkness of sleep would come quicker, and that it would bring her respite from all her pain.
Zuko surveyed the men toiling to clean the bodies of the dead from his ship with cool, dispassionate eyes. They'd found Rishku's head earlier, and the Prince had burned it to cinders before tossing the rest of the pirate's remains overboard into the ocean as food for the sharks.
The blood would take awhile to scrub from the previously gleaming decks, he noted. Such were the disadvantages of war.
Soon after the pirates had figured out their leader was dead, they'd fallen into panicked disarray, each fighting to save his own life and escape on the pirate ships as fast as possible.
This made killing them all the easier for Zuko's soldiers. Any pirates who managed to get back on their ship were also deterred when their vessels all of a sudden burst into flames.
Zuko watched the chaos, admiring the way that his fire burned, crackled, destroyed, and killed. The flames rose higher and higher, climbing to a zenith before the wood under it collapsed from the strain and broke down. It made a screaming sound as the wood creaked and snapped, and all the nuts and bolts unscrewed and melted. It finally sank, almost in relief, back into the soothing embrace of the water, an escape from the all-consuming fire.
He watched this all with an air of cold disdain. His previous, red-hot rage had subsided, and he couldn't help but think of his earlier actions. He watched his own blood-crusted hands clench and unclench on his red-stained sword. He'd have to clean it soon, to keep it from rusting, Zuko thought absentmindedly.
He refused to entertain the notion that he might actually regret some of the things he'd just done. A Prince never regretted his actions. A good Prince did the right thing for his nation, no matter what the consequences. He distantly remembered the horrified, dying expression on Katara's face as his fingers tightened around her slim neck. Somewhere in his mind, he screamed at himself and knew he was the evilest bastard on the planet. He had practically killed Katara when he lost control of his emotions.
That was one thing that no other element understood about Fire Benders. Theirs was an element fueled by passion and intensity. Anger, Hatred, Happiness, and Love were all part of the overwhelming power of fire. Anger was the easiest emotion to come by for most people, and so that was the reason why majority of the weaker Fire Benders could easily lose control over their element. Love was the hardest to summon. Controlling your fire meant controlling your emotions.
If you lost control of your feelings, you lost control of your fire.
And Zuko had lost control. He'd done it many times as a young child, when he had been learning the basics of Fire Bending. But he was a young man now, and he should have already learned to keep everything in check.
Katara would never understand how it felt to have that heat inside him, driving into every corner of his body from his heart and building up hotter and hotter and hotter until he just had to release it. She was a Water Bender, a soothing, caring, healing element that could rock you to sleep as gently as if you were a babe in your mother's arms. But, of course, it could also destroy. Whipping up rain storms and tsunamis in a fury that was doom for anybody who got in their way. It was double-sided, as was every element on Earth.
Fire was like that as well. One could easily summon up anger and hatred when fighting an enemy, releasing all that pent-up emotion in a flurry of flame. But, if the Fire Bender was happy or in love, that heat was released as a beautiful warmth, caring and soothing, brushing away the cold chill on a winter's night. Because of all that passion, Fire Benders went one step further in everything. They hated more, angered easier, could be happy to the point of ecstasy, and loved with an incredible intensity.
Everything was double-sided. Everything had it's own duality. It was all just a matter of how you used the power.
With fire, everything burns bright and beautiful and powerful. But after the fire, after all the passion and heat burn out, everything is black, cold, and dead.
And so it is with the Fire Benders. After his energy and emotion had run out, burned straight through, Zuko felt empty and dead inside. There was nothing left after the heat of his anger but cold, dead cinders.
He sighed slowly, finally coming to terms with his actions. It was a good thing he hadn't set fire to Katara. It was a very good thing.
Then he straightened up, expression turning flinty again. No. He didn't regret one single thing he'd done today. He'd done it all for his Nation. He was a Prince. He had obligations. Really, he shouldn't have been feeling any remorse for what he'd done. It was simple. If she hadn't tried to escape, he wouldn't have had to hurt her. She would do well to remember who was the hunter here, and who was the prey.
Katara had deserved what she got.
Feeling much more assured of himself now, Zuko turned his attention back to discussing more important matters than Katara. Things like damages and losses and how they were going to repair everything.
Iroh came up behind his nephew, sword swinging tiredly from one hand. He tapped Zuko's shoulder, interrupting the Prince's conversation with Captain Raku.
"Yes, Uncle?" Zuko's eyes were guarded, closed.
Iroh could tell there wasn't going to be any family lovin' happening around here anytime soon. His nephew was in one of his leader moods. Meaning he was more likely to kill someone than to laugh at one of his Uncle's jokes today.
"Where's the girl?" Iroh inquired, slightly worried. He hadn't seen Katara during the battle because he had been to busy hacking at pirates and defending the ship. He hoped she'd stayed below decks, safe and protected. But after the battle, he'd heard from several soldiers about the interaction between his nephew and the girl, but they'd been vague on details. Still, it was worrisome. "I hope she's not hurt, Zuko." He finished.
Both of them knew it wasn't only the pirates Iroh was talking about. Something angry lurked behind Zuko's eyes.
"She's… not hurt." The prince seemed to have a bit of difficulty getting the words out. "She's in my room."
"Can I see her?" Iroh said easily, holding his hand out for the key.
Zuko gave him an "of course" nod while his hand reached up for the key where it lay beneath his shirt. He was about to take it out and give it to his uncle when his hand stilled suddenly. Zuko's eyes glazed over and focused on some faraway spot beyond Iroh. His hand fell, empty, to his side again.
"No." Zuko said smoothly.
Iroh wasn't sure he'd heard the words right at first, then blinked confusedly. "What?"
"No." Zuko repeated calmly, eyes still fixated on a point behind Iroh. Iroh resisted the sudden urge to whip around and see for himself what his nephew was staring at. But he also knew that if he turned around, he'd see nothing but empty air. It was something only Zuko could see, something that existed only in his nephew's mind.
"Wh-Why not?" The older man sputtered. He knew his nephew trusted him above all other people on Earth. Why was he keeping Katara away from his own uncle? Or, was he keeping Katara away from the rest of the world?
"Because, Uncle," Zuko said in a perfectly reasonable tone, "I don't think she's ready for visitors yet."
She's not ready for visitors? Iroh thought, or you're not ready for her to have visitors? And since when had his own uncle been a mere "visitor"?
But Iroh knew there was no arguing with his nephew, not when he was like this.
Turning stiffly, he strode off, knowing that Zuko's suspicious eyes were trained on him. Since when had the Prince been so possessive of the girl? And, not only that, but since when had the Prince been so wary of his own uncle? It hurt, surprisingly, that his nephew didn't trust him anymore. Iroh had thought they'd been much, much closer than that.
It was the girl, Iroh reasoned. Katara was changing the Prince in many ways, whether Zuko liked it or not.
Katara woke up at the sound of a knock on her door. For the briefest second, she hoped desperately it was Zuko come back, but, at the same time a terror gripped her insides as she dreaded seeing him again. It was the queerest feeling.
But she knew it wasn't Zuko, because he had a key and would come in without knocking. This knowledge left her both disappointed and elated.
She raised her bruised cheek from the pillow. "I can't let you in." She said weakly at whoever it was at the door.
"That's okay." Iroh's calming voice answered her. She relaxed. "I'll just talk to you from outside. Zuko wouldn't let me in anyways." He chuckled, an edge of sadness in his voice.
Katara frowned slightly in confusion. Zuko wouldn't let his own uncle in to see her? She asked Iroh why.
"I'm not… exactly sure." He replied carefully.
"He let you in last time, when he first brought me on this ship and locked me in this room." She protested.
A sigh from outside the door. "The situation's changed, dear girl."
Changed so much that Zuko had lost trust in his own family? It was all her fault.
"I'm sorry." She whispered loud enough for him to hear.
She heard Uncle Iroh settle down on the floor outside the door. "It's not your fault." He said. Sitting down, he leaned his head back a bit too hard on the door and banged a cut he had received from a now-dead pirate. "Ouch!"
"Are you okay?" She called.
"Yes, yes I'm fine."
A bit of silence.
"Are you?" He finally said. Iroh hadn't believed a word Zuko had said about Katara's health. So the distrust ran both ways between uncle and nephew now. Iroh felt bitter about the revelation.
"Well enough." Katara replied, trying to sound cheerful.
Iroh didn't press any further. Neither of them wanted to get into the delicate subject. It was like a painful wound that was only beginning to heal. Press hard enough, and it'll start bleeding again.
"Where are you?" He called again.
"In bed." She said into her pillow.
"Doing what?"
"Oh-" A slight sigh. "-just resting."
"That's good."
An even longer silence.
"Iroh?" She called, a bit of uncertainty in her voice.
"Yes?" He answered immediately.
"Sometimes…" She choked a bit, the sound was muffled coming through the door. "Sometimes I don't know what he wants from me." A slight sniffle. "You know?"
Iroh closed his eyes, leaning his head back against the door, trying to keep everything at bay. He felt tears prickle at the corners of his wrinkled, tired eyes. He really wasn't a crying sort of man. Not really.
The hallway outside Zuko's room was quiet, but the heartbreaking sound of Katara's tears floated through the door. She hiccupped once in a while, and Iroh knew the pillow was soaked with the crying girl's tears by now.
"I know." He said, his own voice sounding tight and strange in his ears. Maybe he was a crying sort of man. Maybe, once in awhile, he could be.
Zuko sat in a conference room with the top members of his crew, maps and plans and lists of supplies strewn about on the table before him. All the men gathered in the room were tired, and most were wounded a bit from the earlier fight. Everyone had deep shadows under their eyes, and few could keep from yawning.
"This is it, gentlemen." He said, rubbing his forehead with on hand. "We are going to have to put in at a nearby seaport sometime before the week ends. We just don't have enough supplies to last us through, and we have too many wounded that need care that we can't provide on the ships. Almost half our vessels need extensive repairs." He pointed to diagrams of all the ships in his fleet. "We lost three scout ships, and one more is heavily damaged." He switched to another diagram. "Two of the warships are fine, but the Ember is taking on water fast, and half her crew is kept pumping out water night and day, which isn't efficient at all." Zuko sat back in his chair, a seventeen year old commander worrying about a war fleet that most teenagers in the world would never be able to see, much less command. "The flagship is fine. A couple of scrapes, some small leaks, but we'll survive."
Captain Raku looked at him blearily from across the table, then raised one finger to point at several dots on the coast of the Earth Kingdom, parts of which they had conquered. "There are three choices we have for repairs and supplies. Menthat, we took over about a decade ago, a pretty extensive town with a sea port, maybe two, three days' sailing." He pointed to the next red dot on the map. "Konzu, good trading port, fairly new city of ours." And the third dot was "Yasid, not much there. More like a desert, really. Couple of wells and their only trade is the minerals they mine from the ground." The Captain turned back tiredly to Zuko. "So which shall it be, your Majesty?"
Zuko pondered for a moment, speaking out loud. "Yasid's probably not going to have much in the way of supplies. If they do have anything, it'll be outrageously priced because they need it for themselves as well. Konzu has good trade, but since they're such a new acquisition of ours, the townspeople will probably be more hostile than willing to help." He pointed at the first dot. "Menthat it is." He studied the area around the city. "It's surrounded by forest too, so timber for ship repairs will probably be cheaper there than at any other city."
All the officers murmured their assent and the Captain nodded.
Zuko took one look at all of them and slapped the table with the palm of his hand, rising from his chair. "Meeting adjourned. Set a course for Menthat tonight, Captain."
The room cleared out quickly, until only Zuko was left. He rolled up the maps and placed them in their tubes on the wall. He walked around the room, brushing dust off shelves before he realized what he was doing. He was definitely stalling.
Angry at himself, he blew out the lamps in the room and stomped back out onto the deck. Why was he stalling? Why was he scared of going back to Katara and confronting her tonight? She should be the one wary about meeting him, not the other way around.
It was a clear night, and the stars shone brightly in the dark sky.
Zuko didn't notice any of the natural beauty in the world surrounding him. He walked back to his room, almost dragging his feet before he realized what he was doing again. Quickly, he picked up his pace and arrived at his door, pulling out the key and unlocking it. Now he quieted down, hoping Katara was asleep and not wanting to wake her.
He entered the room silently, shutting the door behind him. A lump under the blankets lay on his bed, dark, long hair drifting out on the pillow. It rose and fell steadily with her even, sleeping breath. He sighed, relieved. Moving towards the wardrobe (the cannonball still lodged in the wood above it), he stripped off his clothes and changed into a loose shirt and pants for sleeping. Zuko averted his eyes from the mess that used to be the elegant furniture in his room. He'd done that bit of violence, and he wasn't ready to face any of it yet.
Crawling as gently as he could onto the bed, he lifted his side of the sheet up to slip into, and couldn't help but glance at Katara. His eyes locked on her form, and inside, every guilty emotion he had felt that day swarmed up to fill his mind. He inspected her battered form sorrowfully, and he lingered on the bruises surrounding her throat, put there by his own hands. He almost reached out and touched her, but drew back quickly, afraid that if he even breathed on her, she'd break right in front of his eyes. Even in sleep, a sad look was on her face, not like the peaceful expression he was used to seeing when she slept.
Laying down with as little shifting as possible, so as not to disturb Katara, he shut his eyes and tried not to think about all the things he'd done that day. It didn't matter if they'd been right or wrong. He just didn't think.
When Zuko woke up the next morning, he distinctly felt the absence of Katara's warm body next to his. However, his arms were still sprawled out in a position of embrace, and the spot right next to him was still slightly warm, meaning that Katara had just gotten up, maybe two seconds before. That was probably what had woken him, seeing as he was a pretty light sleeper. He raised his head from the pillow and saw her sitting in the last undestroyed armchair in the room, next to one of the remaining windows. She was staring out at the blue water, the sun having just risen.
She turned her upper body to face him, and he noticed her wince slightly. More guilt plagued him. "You were touching me again last night." She said calmly, her face a mask of emotionless serenity. He looked at her closely, and could see she also had several bruises on her face, including a particularly large on her upper left cheekbone. He refused to look at her neck.
Zuko didn't know what to say. He hadn't expected her to be so direct. This was what he had wanted to avoid last night. He cursed himself. Well, how was he supposed to act? He was goddamn sorry, couldn't she see that?
She turned her face away from again, looking out the window.
"Well, you just can't seem to keep your hands to yourself lately, now can you?" Her face was still utterly calm, but her voice carried hints of malice and anger in it.
He couldn't believe how guilty he felt. His eyes finally rested on her throat. It was probably just as painful for him to look at it as it was for her to feel it. He'd never really seen this side of Katara before, this side of her that blatantly told him she hated him.
A knock on the door kept him from providing any sort of response, apologetic, angry, or otherwise.
"Who is it?" He called, annoyed, from the bed. He made no effort to conceal his resentment at the interruption. He was already pissed off, what with Katara's little sarcastic quips this morning.
A meek voice answered him. "Uh, it's… it's me, sir-"
Zuko cut the voice off. "Who's me?"
"Oh, it's Kaz sir, I'm the servant who regularly takes care of the Lady?" The voice was even more frightened.
Before Zuko could tell him to go away, Katara spoke up. "You can come in."
He glared at her, and the servant came in. He hadn't bothered to lock the door last night, as he was positive that if Katara tried anything, even in her weak state, he'd wake up and know it. Three years of warfare and battles didn't make a deep sleeper of Zuko.
Kaz hurried into the room, and Katara recognized him as the servant who had been with her since her days on the scouting ship, when she'd first been captured.
As he entered the room, Kaz's eyes fell on the broken furniture, the damaged furnishings, the cannonball in the wall, the ugly scar of the armor covering the window, and finally, the dark bruises apparent on his Lady's face and body. His horrified expression was plastered on his face for all the world to see.
"Just some battle scars." Katara said, smiling gently at him.
He gaped at her a minute more before blushing and setting down all the things he carried. A washbasin full of clean water, breakfast food, and a jar of salve and several bandages. "His… his Lordship Iroh said you might need this." Kaz stammered, gesturing to the medical supplies. He kept his eyes averted, now obviously understanding why.
Zuko spoke, irritated, from the bed. "Thank you, you are dismissed-"
Katara cut him off, eyeing the servant. "Kaz is your name, yes?"
He nodded frantically in answer, meeting her eyes for a second before looking down at the floor again.
Katara stood up shakily, and limped over to the dresser. Kaz quickly moved to help her, but was stopped by a glare from Zuko. Don't touch her was the clear and obvious message.
Kaz gulped and looked down at the carpet as Katara turned around, having completely missed the entire exchange between the two men. She held something in her hand, and when she pressed it into Kaz's hand, the servant felt the weight of two full gold coins. He looked at her, clear adoration and reverence in his eyes. She smiled at him. "Thank you for all your help, Kaz."
"Th-thank you, my lady." He stammered as he left.
The room was oddly silent without what seemed to Katara the endearing bumbling of the servant boy.
Zuko had merely thought Kaz was annoying.
"Why'd you do that?" He asked finally.
"He deserved it." Katara said simply, stepping over to the washbasin.
"That was my money."
"You owe me."
That ended the discussion.
He watched her wet one towel and wipe her face with it, smears of brown-red coming off on the white cloth. She sighed with relief as she gently cleaned her face. The feel of clean water on her skin was wonderful. There was still the problem of her hair though.
She turned to Zuko first. "Do you need-"
"No it's okay. You use it." He got out of bed and she turned silently back to the water.
Zuko couldn't believe her. In his mind, he gaped in shock. Outside, he kept dressing. How could anyone be this… this good? He knew that if anyone had tried strangling him, he would have more likely killed them than offered them a chance at the wash basin. Even though she was in pain and decidedly angry with him, Katara still had the common courtesy and polite decorum to offer to share what she had with him. It was amazing.
He stared at Katara's back. It was a wonder she'd survived this long in the real world. Nice people usually didn't live very long. Everyone else took advantage of them.
Which was what had happened in this case. He had taken advantage of her status with the Avatar, and kidnapped her for it.
"Where are we going now?" She asked in a neutral tone, her back still to him.
"Menthat. We need supplies and repairs. It's about two days sailing." He answered, buckling on his sword. He caught sight of the medical supplies left by Kaz and stopped. Even though he'd all but beaten her yesterday, she'd still had the courtesy this morning to offer him water to wash with. Bandaging her wounds was really the least he could do.
"Do you need help with the medicine?" He asked, their eyes meeting across the room. She looked away to where she was folding up the second towel.
"No. I'm pretty sure I can handle it." She said quietly. The unsaid I don't want your hands anywhere near me again wasn't stated, but they both heard it in the way one hears the silence of unspoken words.
Zuko felt strangely disappointed that she had refused his offer. He simply shrugged and left, locking the door out of habit behind him.
When Zuko finally left, Katara sighed in relief and stripped off her clothes, cleaning herself thoroughly with the towel. She washed her hair last, and it was an immense relief to rinse out the blood, the tears, and the sweat from her body.
She hadn't even felt or heard Zuko come in last night, she had been so tired. But this morning, when she woke up, they'd been together again, like all the previous mornings. She had hurried to get out of bed before Zuko woke, resisting the temptation to stay in his warm embrace.
To her, the tension this morning had been almost unbearable. The welcome interruption Kaz brought was partly why she'd been so grateful to him. Maybe she'd gone a bit overboard with the money. But why should she care? Zuko could pay for it all out of his own pocket. After all, he did owe her. For many, many different things.
Zuko strode out onto the deck, thinking about this morning's events. Katara's biting, sarcastic remark, her subsequent courtesy, that servant's interruptions, and her kindness to him.
It was all very, very confusing. And the fact that his uncle had taken the time to make sure Katara received medicine just rankled at Zuko. It made him look like the bad, uncaring, rash teenage boy, and his uncle look like the kind, caring grandfather-type person. It certainly didn't help Katara's opinion of Zuko.
But that was mostly all his own fault. After all the things he'd done, he felt empty inside.
He had to admit, it had felt so good yesterday, punishing Katara and hurting her when he was fueled by the fire of his anger. He had felt she deserved it, deserved everything she got for disobeying him and flaunting his direct orders to stay in his room. And her attempted escape! She had tried to leave him. That was what made him even angrier.
But afterwards, after hurting her, and after the fuel of his fire had burned out, he was left with an empty nothingness that quickly filled with guilt.
His personality was so like a fire. Hot, burning, flaming one moment, and he was all burned out, he was left with nothing but cold ashes and regret.
Sometimes it really sucked being a Fire Bender. Especially a Prince.
That night, they both went to bed at the same time. Neither of them tried to start a conversation. Neither of them said anything about their day. Neither of them said good night to each other. And neither of them apologized, for anything they had done to each other.
The next morning, when Zuko woke up, Katara was in her armchair again. But this time she wasn't staring out the window. She was staring at him, and probably had been for awhile. When he woke up and looked at her, she turned away, back to gazing out at the ocean.
He wondered how long she had been staring at him for, and what she had been thinking. Zuko felt slightly uncomfortable. Had she wanted to hurt him, like he had done to her? Was she bent on deadly revenge? He couldn't help but feel a slight amazement at the thought that Katara could possibly want to kill him. Could she? And, more importantly, would she?
After a second's thought, he brushed the idea away. The girl would never have the guts to try it. It wasn't her thing. She could never kill anyone, not even her brutal captor, Prince Zuko. It was… just completely beyond her.
Katara stared out the window at the ocean. She was thinking as well. The thought of killing Zuko had crossed her mind already. How could it not have, when every waking thought of hers since Zuko's "outburst" had been of her wounded brother and Aang? She thought of how easily she could hide when he came in at night and leap out a with knife, stabbing and slicing and aiming for his life? Of how, in the small moments between her waking and his waking, there was a sword braced against the inside of the wardrobe? A sword she could easily gain access to?
But, being Katara, she never really gave it much serious thought. The mere idea of killing someone made her want to vomit. It wasn't something she wanted to do, ever. Even if she did try such an outrageous thing, there was the little matter of Zuko fighting back. If he had enough time between her attack and his reaction to it, he would fight back against her efforts, and he would most likely be the victor. He was taller, stronger, and knew how to use a weapon. She didn't. Her only advantage would be the element of surprise, and she wasn't even 100 percent sure about that.
It was all useless. All this thinking was useless. Her gaze locked on the blue water outside. She'd been in this room for two straight days, soon to be three, and it was a good thing she was on a ship. Otherwise she would have gone insane already. The soothing rocking motion of waves and water against the vessel calmed her. If she could actually touch the water and swim in it and revel in the fresh air outside, she would have healed much faster than she was now. But it was a good thing just to feel it's embrace and see it's deep blue color. It kept her going. She was a Water Bender after all. She needed water like her body needed blood.
Katara turned just in time to see Zuko slip out the door, having dressed and gotten ready while she was thinking and staring out the window. Good. She was glad to be rid of his presence. Now she just had to make it through the rest of the day.
Zuko spent his day receiving reports and issuing orders. They were supposed to arrive at Menthat today but what with the damages on several ships in the fleet, they were forced to go at a much slower pace, and it seemed that they would arrive tomorrow instead. It was a setback, although not major. Still, the sooner they could get their supplies and repairs, the sooner his mood would improve.
Aside from his worries as a commander of a fleet, he also worried, as a simple human being, about Katara.
His guilt had grown over the last few days until every single waking moment not filled with thoughts of the current price of bread in Menthat was filled with her. It was very inconvenient, as it didn't allow him one moment's rest the whole day. He woke up every morning and the bruises on her stared him straight in the face, mocking him for creating them. He was the reason she wasn't talking to him anymore, wasn't joking like she used to, wasn't smiling like she used to.
And his uncle too. Since that day when he had refused to give Iroh the key to his room, his uncle had been cold and distant with him. It seemed to be his fate to push away everyone who had ever meant anything to him.
Katara could tell by the darkening sky outside that it was late evening. She had spent most of the day staring, sleeping, and thinking. Or trying not to think. It was all really quite restful.
She finally stood up and stretched, wincing several times as her healing injuries voiced complaints. Walking over to the dresser where Kaz had deposited the medicine yesterday, she picked up the jar and rubbed the cool salve on her bruised skin. She would be forever grateful to Iroh for thinking about her.
Katara heard the door creak open behind her as she tended to her injuries. She kept her eyes fixated on the cracked mirror, and on her own face. Out of the corner of the glass, she could see Zuko stop and stare at her. He was back early tonight. Usually he stayed out later. She continued to ignore him, and dipped her fingers into the jar again.
She could feel him come up behind her, closer, closer, and closer until his chest was all but touching her back. She could see him behind her in the mirror, looking at her with a carefully guarded expression. Finished with her salve, she wiped her fingers on a clean bandage, refusing to meet his eyes in the mirror.
Zuko didn't know what was driving him to do this. He had been thinking all day of what to say to her when he finally saw her again, and now he was here, there was nothing left in his mind.
Katara stiffened as all of a sudden, she felt his hand drawing lightly up, up, up her arm. Over her bruised forearm and up to her sleeve his hand continued until he reached her neck. Her chest tightened with the feather-light sensation and she willed herself to be still, to not flinch, to not fall towards the fight or flight animal instinct raging in her mind.
Zuko watched his own hand reach her throat. Once there, he gently drew a line over the bruises. She was unbelievably tense, he could feel her muscles under her skin. Rubbing his thumb softly against her throat, he drew it back down until his hand was resting solidly on her collarbone, between her neck and shoulder. Drawing in a deep breath, he leaned closer, until he was resting the side of his scarred cheek on the crown of her head.
"I'm sorry." He whispered as sincerely as he possibly could, with every bit of guilt he had felt for the last few days evident in his voice.
Katara stared straight ahead at the mirror. She could see the picture of the two of them. Him, facing away from the mirror, resting his cheek on her hair, hand on her collarbone, the perfect image of regret. She noticed her own tautness of muscle underneath his touch. Slowly, she relaxed until she was leaning against him, until they were finally leaning against each other.
"I know." She said softly.
Zuko sighed deeply, still not moving. How she could forgive him so easily he didn't know. But that was who she was. Katara, loving, caring, forgiving Katara.
She was definitely too good for him.
But before he could think or say anything more, she broke from the embrace and turned around to face him, putting a little more distance between the two of them. He stared at her, agape. Had she forgiven him or not? Was she still scared of him?
Katara crossed her arms over her chest. "When we… when we reach Menthat, you have to let me out of this room. I've got to get off this ship."
He continued to stare at her. Was she trying to blackmail him? Did she think he needed her forgiveness that much? The crazy little bitch-
"I'm not trying to blackmail you or anything, Zuko." She stared intently at him. "I do forgive you. But I need to get out of here before I go insane." An honest sincerity bordered by desperation shone in her face. She was speaking the truth.
Zuko knew she wasn't blackmailing him, knew she wasn't lying to him. He convinced himself (against his better judgment) that she did deserve time off the ship, that she did deserve to walk on dry land again and meet people other than sailors, soldiers, or abusive Princes. She wouldn't try to escape from him. She wouldn't do it, because she should have learned from last time. He convinced himself this was true.
He breathed out, his decision made. "Yes, yes you can go." His gaze sharpened. "But only when I'm with you."
Katara could see he still didn't trust her. That wasn't a surprise. She didn't trust him either. Everything in Katara told her to forgive Zuko, that he was sincerely sorry for his actions.
But there was a little voice in the back of her mind warning her: Don't forget what he did. Don't forget he hurt you and he hurt Sokka he hurt your own brother made him bleed. He took your freedom away he's the enemy don't forget don't forget don't forget…
But she was already starting to forget.
A/N: Thank you again to all my wonderful reviewers! THANK YOU SO MUCH! Chapter eight already… I can't believe this story has gone so far. I never expected it to be popular or anything. I'm not even close to finishing up this story, so forget my prediction about it being 8-10 chapters. It's more like 15-18 chapters now. I've got everything planned down to the ending. Actually, the ending's not definite yet, but I've got several ideas lying around…
A/N 2: I know some of you might be a little dissatisfied at the lack of more Zuko/Katara interaction in this chapter, and I'm sorry about that, but I'm going to tell you my opinion. This chapter was really a behind-the-scenes look at the characters' thoughts and feelings towards each other. A real soul-searching (wince) if you want to call it that. I'm not going to have them one-sided like I've read in some fics, how Zuko is just a mean horny guy and Katara is just an innocent perfect girl. No. I think all these characters have full-blown personalities and I am going to take the time to go through each and every side of them. Angry Zuko, Responsible Zuko, Stupid Zuko, Jealous Zuko, Sorry Zuko, Nice Zuko. And, believe it or not, Katara has a nasty side too. She's not all cream puffs and sugar either. And, I'm not going to have them having sex by the second chapter (obviously, since I've already passed the second chapter). Nuh-uh. This is going to be long, painful, and drawn-out. Which is good news to some of you, and maybe bad for others. Don't get the idea I'm mad at anyone or anything. I've loved every single review and reviewer I've gotten so far. I just want to inform you guys about where I'm going with this story. Thanks!
A/N 3: Also, it was brought to my attention by several reviewers (namely PalominoMule and GMGirl) that metal is not, in fact, considered part of the Earth element, and the type of metal that Fire Benders use is special so that the Earth Benders don't have any sort of advantage over them (This is according to the official website, so it is, accordingly, official). If I may say so sincerely, Oops. I didn't know that before, and I'm glad somebody took the time to inform me. Unfortunately I can't change it now, but when I do go back and revise this story (which I plan on doing, as soon as I finish) I'll make sure to fix that and use a different idea for it. For now, I hope you can all just overlook it as a simple mistake. Thanks again, guys.
Disclaimer: The song "Yesterday" by the Beatles does not belong to me. I was listening to it while writing the beginning of this chapter and thought it made perfect sense. Yay for the Beatles.
