Hey guys! I'm so sorry i havent updated i've got my exams next week and i gotta cram in all my studytime within the rest of the week! ill try and update ASAP after my exams!
Expect holiday updates!
-Serenity
Disclaimer: I DONT own AVATAR! dun dun dunnn
Heavy footsteps echoed through the hallway as Zuko rushed down the corridor. Today was supposed to be an easy assignment, go into a small but important harbor village, and seize it.
A pain in his conscious ate at him when he had to kill that family, the looks in their eyes of pure terror and desperation.
"But it had to be done. If the Lord ever knew I had let a village survive during a siege, he would look down upon me as it would show a strong sign of weakness." Zuko thought to himself in remorse.
While his men slashed their swords in every direction, killing whoever happened to be in the way, he himself had simply wounded them or knocked them out. Being the cause of death was something the Prince would stand for, unlike Admiral Zhao, Zuko had feelings and felt regret toward those who were killed.
But the peasant daughter was just going to be a constant reminder of the deed he had done, she was going to be a living reminder of something he did. She was rude, disrespectful, irritating, persistent, and smart mouthed, and it only took him the first few minutes of their encounter for him to figure that much about her.
The girl was the first girl he'd actually hit, but immediately afterward Zuko felt the sinking feeling of remorse. Keeping his apathetic features in place, he was going to proceed to discipline this wench, trying to keep the violence low.
When the commander reached the foot of the small stairwell, he looked up and saw a short old man at the head of the stairs. A grey eyebrow was raised in disappointment as he kept his stout arms at rest at his sides. Zuko's features softened a little, but still kept the apathetic normality.
"For shame, Prince Zuko. She is just a girl." The old man said hoarsely, moving to the side as the Prince walked up the stairs sternly.
"Uncle, the peasant hurt my men, attempted to hurt me, and embarrassed me in front of my men. She got what she deserved." He said smoothly, looking his uncle straight into his eyes.
The old man sighed thoroughly and put his head down, evidently ashamed at his nephew's treatment to the prisoner. Zuko continued to walk down the corridor leaving his uncle silent behind him at the head of the stairs.
He turned this way and that until he came to a thickly enforced door which led to his room, the commander pushed open the door with anticipation and rushed inside, slamming the door loudly behind him.
The room was draped with Fire Nation tapestries over the walls, seeming to stare at every move he made on his ship. Against one of the dull metal walls was a dark wood dresser, filled with armor, cloaks, training clothes, and other various necessities.
Zuko paced swiftly around his slightly large room and got angrier with each step that hit the floor.
He was angry at his father, he was angry at the wench, he was angry at this war, and especially, he was angry at himself. Zuko's body became tense again as he turned on his heel and punched the metal wall behind him, leaving a dent in the dark area surrounding.
A loud collision sounded through the corridor as former General Iroh descended the steps. But he didn't stop walking toward his destination, already knowing what the sound was from.
He could practically imagine the scene in his head, from Zuko slamming the door, to him hitting the wall leaving yet another mark of frustration upon the ship.
"My nephew does not need help in taking care of himself. His anger is his own life." He murmured inaudibly to himself .
Iroh gracefully stepped off the last stair and stopped at the foot, remembering the intolerable behavior his nephew exhibited.
Zuko stood up from the foot of the stairs, his fists clenching as he saw the girl running down the hallway. Iroh stepped down the stairs as his nephew began to sprint after her, his fists still clenched.
At the end of the prisoner hallway, a pounding sound echoed through. The old man was scared to walk further to see what the Prince was doing; instead he listened intently for the sounds at the end of the corridor.
All the pounding sounds stopped abruptly and a loud painful cry shortly replaced it. General Iroh gaped and began to walk upstairs, knowing that Zuko was going to be uncontrollable soon.
At the head of the stairs, he heard a faint snapping noise, the silence afterwards made him feel uncomfortable. Loud metal noises penetrated the silence as he recognized it as the complicated lock system placed onto the large cell doors.
Zuko walked back and looked absolutely furious, his hands faintly stained with blood.
"For shame, Prince Zuko. She is just a girl." Iroh said hoarsely.
Iroh wanted to go and at least make sure the girl was okay, knowing she was a prisoner made the crew liable for whatever happened to her. He knew she was injured; those screams weren't those of anything other then pain.
Though a tad muffled, the message was clear and distinct.
Everything was eerily quiet in the hallway, the fewer torches making softer sounds against the echoes of the man's gentle footsteps. Shortly thereafter, he stopped in front of the heavily locked door and sighed.
"How much can one girl do in order for Zuko to lock everything?" Iroh thought.
Slowly the old man tinkered with the many locks, twisting one lock to this position, pulling that lever after that, turning the knobs like a combination to a safe.
A soft click could be heard from the inside after a few minutes of Iroh's clueless decoding. As he pulled the door opened hesitantly, it creaked loudly from the lack of care it had received. The dim glow of the hallway entered the room in tiny proceeds, barely lighting anything in the small but dark cell.
General Iroh looked around curiously and didn't see any signs of any being living in the unbearable cell. Quietly, he crept around the room and was amazed that he could see anything at all. The cot in the corner in the room was stiff and only provided the warmth from a holey blanket.
A dirty chamber pot filled the opposite corner of the room, wavering slightly on the rocky ship. Everything was dark, but through the darkness, a very faint sound could be heard.
Iroh squinted his eyes and followed the sound to the far wall of the room. Up close the sound was only a little louder, but sounded raspier then if it was farther away. On the floor, Iroh saw a heap that was a darkened figure, moving very slowly up and down.
He crouched low and began to tenderly feel the figure to identify it. It was covered in a soft thin cloth, as he moved upwards he realized something was raw around the rib area, almost tender and fractured. His hands moved up awkwardly as he felt a slight rise below her breasts.
The basic medical supplies Iroh had with him weren't going to fix this; he had to get the doctor here soon. His hand fixated on the ground and came in contact with something warm and wet; he slurred his hand in it for a moment to see what it was and gasped.
Dripping down his forearm was warm fresh blood, escaping the girl in a slow but fluid rate. Iroh stood up immediately, slightly appalled at how much Prince Zuko inflicted on this poor girl. The doctor needed to be here, now.
He ran out the door as fast as his aged legs would take him, leaving the door slightly ajar.
Everything was so hazy, even with her eyes closed. Katara felt the room moving although she hadn't moved since Zuko had left her in this dreaded place. She hadn't even gotten a good look at her new "home" before everything went black.
Everything became in sight again, except hazy, only a few moments later. All the movement in her muscles had ceased and refused to move when she tried. Katara was even scared to open her eyes, knowing that waves of pain would succumb her vision anyway.
Her breathing was very slow and almost shallow, and the pain would return with each inhalation she dared to take. Only when vague sounds of a door opening could Katara tell that she couldn't hear very well either.
Immediately, her subconscious began to tell her that she should be scared, lest it was Zuko again, there to bring her more pain and steal more. Footsteps lightly echoed around the cell as they seemed to ponder around everywhere but where she lye on the floor helpless. Slowly she could feel her body becoming weaker, her weight seeming lighter, along with everything else.
Wheezing sounds escaped from her mouth, sounding harsh and uneven, realization hit when Katara realized that was her breathing. The faint sounds of the steps came closer and appeared louder as her breathing continued.
Shaky hands tenderly touched Katara, as if not to hurt her but still identify her. The fear slowly dissolved within her as the hands' touch became very gentle. Slowly, the hands moved near her breasts and Katara's breath caught in her throat.
But they stopped at one of the painful points at her ribs and didn't continue upward. Relief numbed her body and her pain until close footsteps pounded in her mind. The ship was rocking in a mildly violent way by then and Katara's vision began to come into one perspective.
The footsteps got farther and farther away until a beam of light shone through the cell, illuminating the bright hallway beyond the door.