SEEEEEEEEEE! I TOLD YOU I WOULD UPDATE SOON!
Okay, yo me homesicles, I'm back in the hizouse (lol). Welcome to chapter 7. Guess what? I just finished my first week of French, and I love it. Anyways, here is the claimer of the dis variety.
Disclaimer: Ever wonder why it's called a disclaimer? It's because the claimers of the show (i.e. Not Me) are dissing us poor fanfictioners.
30 seconds of randomness
(The set is dark and empty for what you can see, which actually you can't because it is pitch black.)
(A deep low voice that sounds vaguely familiar echoes in the dark, hollow chamber where you reside, resonating off the moist stonewalls.)
Weird, deep creepy voice: Welcome fans of the fictioning genre. Do not fear. (These words send a chill up your spine, because no one says 'do not fear' unless you have something to fear.) You find yourself among friends. (Glancing around, you realize that obviously, this person thinks you have no friends.) I have come to weave for you a tale of dark and vast mystery, hollow, yet full, that dances in the mind on crippled limbs as you-
(At this the voice is interrupted by an annoyed feminine voice easily identified as Katara)
Katara's disembodied voice: What are you talking about? Dances on crippled limbs? That doesn't even make sense to the authoress, and she's crazy and evil.
The original voice, now obviously WB: It's called poetic expression. Gosh, you're just too uneducated to understand my complex artistic style. And another thing, I ma the authoress, and I completely understand what I mean. (Lights flick on, showing the two girls standing on opposite ends of the stage. WB looks imploringly at the audience of you) Don't you understand what I'm saying? …………Please………?
Another voice, this time Iroh's: I am sorry to say she speaks truth WindBender. Your storytelling is not exactly fluent, nor is it consequential.
Zuko (enters stage right to stand beside Katara): Long story short, your stupid, Katara wins, Iroh is too smart and knows too many big words, and I'm surrounded by people who annoy me.
Katara sniffles: I'm annoying.
(Zuko stares at the roof for a minute, as if considering, then turns back to Katara)
Zuko: Yep.
(Katara runs off crying)
(Zuko blinks)
Zuko, to Iroh: What did I do?
#Fin#
Chapter 7: read further at your own risk…
Katara stepped into the darkened chamber. Zuko followed closely after, and with a brisk wave of his hand, the candles in the room were ablaze, casting a dim light over the rug-ed floor( AN: as in the floor has a rug on it.). The room was somewhat simple.
Two tapestries hung ornamentally on the standard iron walls, both emblazoned with the fire nation crest. A single futon sat in the corner of the room, and on the wall across from it were two broad swords crossed and hung on pegs that had been welded to the wall. The rug on the floor matched the basic pattern of the room. Iron, black and red.
Katara turned to her male company, though he was not much company in truth. "Why did you bring me here?"
At her question he froze, turning slowly to face her. She met his steely gaze stolidly, and in his eyes she saw a strange truth that was foreign to her, and yet, hauntingly familiar. It was a brief flicker, but Katara still saw it. It was something more than contemplation, something less than doubt. It was gone as soon as it had come however, and when he responded, his words were slow and measured, carefully neutral.
" If I knew, I probably wouldn't have."
The empty response left her unsatisfied, and brought more questions to the surface, though one seemed far more pressing than the others.
"Then what are you going to do to me?"
Zuko seemed to hesitate at this, but Katara could not catch his eye, and was not given any clue as to why.
" I'll just be asking you a few questions. You'll be kind enough to answer, won't you?" Zuko had been thinking about this all the way down the corridor. He needed to be nice, to hold his temper, expect some resistance and win her trust with simple questions. Let her fill in the blanks, without knowing it. He had other types of information gathering.
Katara immediately turned on the defensive. "I won't tell you anything about Aang." She was resolute, but Zuko had anticipated this. He knew how to wheedle information out of a silly peasant girl.
"Who said anything about the Avatar?" Zuko questioned innocently. "Let's start with easy questions. What's your name?" Katara reflected for a moment, trying to determine any risks that might come with admitting her name to her interrogator. It seemed an innocent question, and Katara was at a loss as to why he had asked it. Her curiosity overbeared her judgment, and she answered, curious to see where he would go with this.
"My name's Katara of the Southern Water Tribe." She spoke with a confidence and airiness she did not feel.
"Katara. A nice name. There is no need to be so formal Miss Katara. After all, I already knew you were from the Southern Water Tribe. That is where I first encountered the small group of you, the water tribe boy and the Avatar. Do you not recall?" Katara nodded, not sure if she liked that he remembered so clearly their first encounter. It had not been a pleasant occasion for the Prince. Zuko frowned, though Katara did not see, her head bowed to stare blankly at her hands. He had hoped she would reveal something about the water tribe boy, a blush that indicated a close companionship, a growl of dislike, something. He would leave that for later.
Katara was struck suddenly with an idea. As Zuko prepared to ask his next question, Katara looked up, speaking briskly, slurring her words lightly in her haste. "Now I get to ask you a question…umm…I already know your name, so how about…umm…how old are you?" Zuko stared at her for a moment, and then something happened that Katara had not even considered possible. Zuko laughed.
Floating somewhere over the ocean, searching for the form of his friend's body, a thought occurred to Aang. "Hey Sokka…do you think Zuko has ever laughed?" Sokka stared for a moment, confused by the unpredictability of the question. Then he burst out into laughter of his own. When he had calmed he managed to respond with a somewhat serious face "No Aang. I don't think Prince Zuko knows what laughing is." Slowly the two boys turned back to their work, Sokka relieved by a moment where the tension was lifted, and Aang left unsatisfied. Not knowing how to laugh? No wonder the Prince was so harsh.
His laughter was deep and rich. It was not the hollow, throaty sound she had imagined when she reflected on him. It was low and gentle and Katara was haunted by the memory of her own father, whose laugh bordered on identical to the Prince's. "Forgive me, but I don't remember the asking of questions to be a mutual thing during questionings" He saw her mouth open, prepared to protest. "If you really want to know though, I'm 16." Katara's mouth snapped shut.
Taking this as submission, Zuko asked his next question, managing a friendly smile, almost as if this was just a conversation between new acquaintances. "How old are you, as long as we're on the subject."
Katara immediately remembered when her grandmother had told her that a man was not supposed to ask her name. She pushed the nostalgia away, and answered briskly, though her voice had lost some of the cold stubborn edge it had started with. "I'm 14."
Zuko failed to smother his initial shock. "That's very young to be traveling around the world with the Avatar." Katara frowned indignantly, rising to her own defense.
"For one thing, Aang himself is only 12. Secondly, I have my brother Sokka to protect me. And thirdly, I'm not the one who's captaining a Navy ship at 16." Zuko flashed a grin, his teeth glinting a predatory white that reminded Katara of the artic wolves that would stalk her village in the night.
"Touche, Lady Katara." Katara began to realize with a growing fear that she was enjoying her conversation with a Prince. She watched him with a hawk-eye, thoroughly confused. He had not so much as touched her, much less harmed her in anyway, much like she had imagined he would during an interrogation. He had asked simple questions, and had smiled and laughed. Fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately, depending upon where your loyalties lie, Katara's realization led ot Katara's silence, and Zuko could not gouge a reaction from her until he asked a question that delved to deep into her heart or her to ignore.
"Why is this so important to you?" Katara stared in awe at the blue iridescent pendant hanging from the grey, velvet band. "I-it was my grandmother's engagement necklace, passed down to my mother, and finally to me." Her words were breathy and low, and Zuko had to listen intently to make out her words. She didn't bother to look at him, to lost in her reveries. Zuko grinned. He had gotten her to speak again.
Well, that was a nice bit. I'm kinda proud of this one. It's not my best, but it's okay. (If you want my best, read my story "The Witching Hour.") Anyways, this took longer to type then expected, but I'm glad I finally got it up. Anyways, here you go, that was chapter seven of identity.
Reviews make me dance, and thats always creepy, but fun.
Love Peace and Bacon grease,
Bending of the Wind is my thing yo