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Firewater Rose: Arc 1, Chapter 4

Zuko watched with feigned disinterest as the girl bent a small amount of water from the tin cup she'd been given to drink from. She molded the few drops of water into a myriad of shapes - spheres, cubes, and even a short, thin whip. Finally she formed the water into an oblong shape and wrapped it around the fingers on her right hand. Zuko's interest was piqued when she began massaging her left arm, and he slid a little closer to her.

She pretended not to notice for several minutes, focusing all her attention on her wounded arm. When she was done, she spoke.

"Why do you want Aang?" she asked.

"I don't want the Avatar. I want my honor back," Zuko stated, his voice as hard as steel.

"I've heard that honor is rather important in the Fire Nation," she said.

She's baiting me, Zuko thought. "A person is nothing if they have no honor."

Katara looked up at him briefly before turning her attention to her left wrist. She continued talking while massaging her wrist.

"Do you know how old Aang is?" she asked.

"One-hundred and twelve years," he replied, flatly.

"Yes, it's been that long since he was born. But, he's only twelve in his mind, body and soul. Care to guess what his greatest ambition is at the moment?"

"To destroy the Fire Nation."

"Wrong. There's a rather impressive list of animals he wants to ride, and places he wants to see. In other words, all he wants is to be a kid!" she exclaimed.

Zuko's expression remained disinterested, but the gears in his mind began turning. Half of the Fire Nation Navy is breathing down his neck, and he wants to indulge in childish games? I've been chasing him half-way around the world, and he's chasing his whims? Zuko felt his temperature begin to rise.

"Of course, he can't do that with you and your father running us all ragged," she continued. "You've forced him to stop being a twelve-year-old."

She fell silent for a few moments, no longer rubbing her wrist, and studied Zuko's face for a moment. Evidently, she didn't find what she was looking for, there.

"Where is the honor in sending Aang to his death?" her words were a sword poised to strike his very heart. Was the act that would restore his honor in the eyes of his people, in and of itself, dishonorable?

"Neither you, nor I, nor the Avatar know what will happen once the Avatar is in father's hands," was all Zuko could say.

"Now who's being the coward?" she asked. "You and I both know exactly what your father is going to do, so don't hide behind your illusions of ignorance."

Zuko cast a single, burning glare in her direction before he stood up and stalked over to his cot. He crossed his legs and closed his eyes, determined to shut her and her words out of his mind.

Katara finished healing the worst of her most recent bruises. With a heavy sigh, she got up and slumped over on her cot.

Good move, Katara. You've just alienated your only friend in this place.

She glanced over to the meditating Prince in the adjacent cell. Sitting on the far side of his cell from her, all she could see were his boots, which were a far cry from the fine leather footwear he'd worn when he was in command of his own ship.

Friend? Is that what he is? OK, maybe, 'ally,' is a better word, but that doesn't really do it justice, does it? Could Aang or Sokka not look away?

She struggled in her mind for a long time, tossing around words that might suit her new situation with the exiled Prince, but none seemed to quite fit. He wasn't a friend or an ally, because as soon as they were both to safety, she was sure he'd resume his Aang-hunting pastime. He was more than a friend, though. He cared enough to do the most difficult thing she'd ever needed anyone to do. He may not have been holding her hand, but what he did was better. He was saving the most important pieces of, 'Katara,' from drowning in pain.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. A glint of gold in the shadows indicated that Zuko had opened his eyes.

"You didn't deserve that from me. I shouldn't have called you a coward. The truth is, I don't know if Aang or Sokka could do as much for me as you have these last few days," she said, with more volume and conviction. She was rewarded by the sound of him sliding off his cot and approaching her cell.

"We really should eat before the food congeals," she said. She laughed nervously for a moment before sliding off her cot and grabbing his plate.

He ate in silence, occasionally pausing to glance up at her while she held his plate. A storm was brewing in his eyes that mimicked the confusion she felt in her mind. When he was done, she set the plate down and turned back to see, to her surprise, that he was still sitting there, watching her. She stifled a giggle rubbed the tip of her nose with her finger. He glanced at her in confusion, and she did it again. Finally, she reached through the bars and gently wiped a smudge of the daily slop off of his nose with her shirt sleeve. His expression returned to its usual surly state.

"What was that you were doing earlier?" he asked.

"Waterhealing," she answered, "It's not unheard-of, but not common, either."

"You're pretty good, then, for a waterbender?" he asked.

"If I do say so myself..." she said, "Yes. I still need practice, but I'll be a Master before long."

"At least you're able to bend in here," he groused. "If I try, I'll incinerate my hands before I melt the lock on this thing," he indicated his steel glove.

Katara considered the device for a moment. "You can bend with your feet, too, right?"

"Of course, but I'd still destroy my hands trying to burn this thing off."

"What if you only need to apply fire to it for a few seconds?" she asked. When he raised his eyebrow, she continued, "They really were counting on us not cooperating, you know."

"Why don't you just tell me what you're thinking, girl?"

"Fine. Back home, we always had to be careful not to warm pots, pans... tea cups... up too fast, or they'd break. What if I froze the lock, and you heated it up real fast? That should bust it," she whispered.

He thought about it for a moment. "That might work. There's just one problem. We're out at sea. There's no where to go but overboard."

"Then we wait until the opportune moment," she grinned wickedly.

He nodded in agreement. "The next time we dock."

The faint noise of a bell clanging somewhere above deck echoed through the brig.

The entire stretch of the southern horizon was an ominous black, though it was still just mid-day. Flashes of light followed by distant rumblings of thunder danced between the low-hanging clouds and the surface of the sea. White peaks rose above the surf only to come crashing down into the waiting water. The ship's bell sounded a warning.

Zhao stood on the deck of his ship and eyed the approaching storm with an impatient scowl. They'd have to go miles out of their way to avoid the worst of it, and they'd have to put in for supplies sooner than he'd planned. This was going to cost them a lot of time in his hunt for the Avatar. He waited until the storm began driving the waves up on deck before he returned to his quarters.