Silence.
Before she could bring herself to open her eyes, she knew she was alone. Slowly, through her pounding headache, she peeled her eyes open and blearily peered out.
Darkness.
She couldn't see a thing. Swallowing down a panicked cry, she tried to listen for anything that could let her know where she was. Nothing. She couldn't hear anything above the rhythmic thumping of her head.
She was cold. The air felt dry and stagnant, causing her breath to catch as she tried to calm herself down. A few deep breaths. Her hands were bound. She pushed herself off the cold metal, swaying as she sat up. Poor decision. Falling back, her already complaining head striking a smooth, cool surface. A wall. She tentatively felt behind her and leaned against it. She shut her eyes again.
Gradually, she recognised a calming sensation falling over her. One that she had felt before, that made up her very psyche. The ocean. Deep breath. Why could she feel the ocean? Her brief feeling of calm was shattered with the realisation that she could feel the movement of the ocean. She was in a ship. Why was she in a ship?
Her mind wandered to her last memories before the darkness. NO! The smell of blood and burnt flesh, the sound of the cries and the sight… Pain coursed through her. Her heart constricted in her chest and her eyes burned as she felt trails of warmth spill over from her eyes. She brought her knees to her chest and allowed the pain to consume her.
It passed, leaving her depleted. Her throat was parched. Deep breath. She reached out, permitting the sound of the waves breaking against the outside of the ship to calm her again. The Fire Nation ship. Shoving down the memories that threatened to overwhelm her again, she reached her bound hands to her face, wiped the damp trails from her face and pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes. The fingers of her right hand felt something odd and she explored the right side of her head. She winced and tentatively felt the edge of a wound stretching from just above her browline into her hair. That might explain the headache.
An inadvertent tug on her hair caused a stab of pain through her head and she abandoned her exploration, leaning back against the wall. Her eyes had adjusted somewhat to the darkness and even though she was unable to see much, a barely noticeable outline of the metal box she was in had emerged from the obscurity. It was too small, she would have been unable to take more than a few steps to reach the other side, and there was nothing else in there. Just her. Only one distinctive feature was contained in the room, a door opposite her. There was no light entering the room from the door yet it had a slitted window near the top. Her stomach turned, she was in a cell. It was different, yet eerily similar, to the ones that she had once seen at home, when her father had taken both her and her brother to see where prisoners were kept before the tribe could pass judgement on a crime. Most of the rooms she'd seen there were not empty as this room was but she was certain of its purpose. She was in a cell. On a Fire Nation ship. This was not good.
She didn't know how long she sat there, fighting the rising panic flooding her senses and forcing herself to focus on the ocean. She concentrated on breathing deeply, matching the rhythm of the waves. Eventually her headache receded into a dull thumping, even though the dizziness remained, and she became increasingly aware of the bruises and cuts on her arms and legs. The ropes around her wrists had been tied too tightly, cutting into the skin and irritating her when she investigated the marks. Her stomach grumbled at her. She had no concept of when she last ate. Was it still the same day as the invasion? Or had it been longer.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the muted sound of a slammed door somewhere above her. She strained, trying to hear something, anything else, her nerves on edge. But silence had descended again. It took a while for her mind to calm back down but eventually the darkness enveloped her again. This time she welcomed it.
A door slammed near her. She bolted upright, her head screaming at her. Through the residues of her disturbed sleep, she blinked frantically, trying to see around her. She could hear footsteps. Muffled voices. They were getting closer. Light spilled in through the crevices in the door. Her heart leapt into her throat and her hands clenched into fists, ignoring the burn of the rope around her abused wrists.
The footsteps stopped outside the door. The voices cut off. She could see something block the light at the window. The sound of a key entering the lock caused her chest to burn and it took a moment to realise that she was holding her breath. Letting it out in a pained gasp, she braced herself against the cool steel behind her back.
There was a click and the door creaked as it opened towards her, the light from the corridor temporarily blinding her. Her eyes burned but she couldn't bring herself to shut them, staring at the two figures standing in the doorway. They were tall, their silhouettes terrifying. Both were covered in full Fire Nation armour, the shoulders extending out in points and with helmets concealing their heads. There was a white plate where their faces should be and she shrunk back against the wall, eyes wide as they observed her.
"The brat's awake."
The voice that emerged from behind the face plate on the left was hoarse, yet cold. She flinched at the sound.
"Do you know where you are peasant?"
She didn't say anything, too afraid to open her mouth and answer. An aggravated sound followed her silence.
"Answer me you little brat!" Left Face Plate snapped, taking a step towards her. She was frozen, unable to move, to speak. He raised his hand, a slight glow emerging in the air above it. "Shall we see if we can loosen her tongue?"
"Not worth the hassle with Yon Rha, he wants the girl to face the Fire Lord." Right Face Plate finally spoke, his words firm as he placed a hand on the other soldier's arm. "What she did back there may provide him with some entertainment. He may have some fun dealing with the last waterbender of the Southern Water Tribe. Can't deprive him of that. Come on, leave her here till tomorrow. She's got to get hungry sometime."
Left Face Plate lowered his hand and pulled back from her. Nodding to his fellow soldier, he turned and swiftly walked out of the cell. Her eyes focussed on the remaining soldier who appeared to be still staring at her. She didn't blink, could barely breathe. She wasn't sure how long they stayed there, but eventually the Right Face Plate backed into the corridor and shut the door. A moment passed and the light from the corridor disappeared, plunging the cell back into darkness.
When she next recovered consciousness, the cell was rocking and she could hear the waves crashing against the outside of the ship. She felt nauseous despite the emptiness of her stomach. Her headache had dimmed to a quiet grumble, noticeable but no longer overwhelming. Her throat was burning and parched and it reminded her of a hunting and gathering trip a few months prior. She'd been allowed to join some of the women of her tribe in a day-long expedition out into the snowy tundra behind her village searching for various hardy plants that could sustain themselves in the barren ecosystem. Violent icy winds had dragged her woollen scarf covering the lower half of her face and for the briefest time, her throat had been assaulted with the harsh cold. In response to her raspy cry, her mother had removed her own mask and wrapped it around her head. Her mother's eyes had twinkled as she smiled at her, amused by the view of her daughter's head encased in a scarf far too large for her before fashioning a new one for herself out of her supplies. She felt the tears threatening to well up again at the memory, and pushed the thoughts from her mind, sinking her face into her hands resting on her knees. The strength to hold her head up was quickly draining from her. She felt exhausted. Empty. Broken.
The sound of boots swiftly moving down the corridor towards her cell dragged her from her misery. She raised her head, feeling the stiffness in the back of her neck. Once again, light leaked into her cell before the sound of a key screeched through her weary brain, reigniting the headache. As the door swung open, she was surprised to only see one figure standing there. He moved forward into the room and she was too weary to shift herself or look away.
"Do you know where you are?" Through the pain in her head, she recognised the voice of Right Face Plate.
"Y-yes". Her voice was quiet and sounded foreign to her, the disuse and dehydration causing it to rasp and catch in her throat. He was silent and after a moment, she continued. "On a F-f-fire Nation ship."
"Correct. We are heading to the Fire Nation. You are a waterbender. You are to be presented to the Fire Lord for his judgment. Do you understand?"
She slowly nodded.
"I don't like kids being held as prisoners," he said, before muttering, "especially one as young as my daughter." She barely heard the words, and sat there in silence, unsure whether she was expected to respond. Eventually, a distorted sigh escaped from behind the face plate, the sound reverberating around the walls. "Look, if you behave, we can give you something to eat."
She nodded again and he spun on his heel, swiftly leaving the room and shutting the cell door. She didn't have to wait long before he returned with a small plate containing a steamed bun and a small glass of water. A second soldier followed him into the cell but hung back, staying near the door. Right Face Plate bent down and passed her the glass. Without hesitation, she downed the water, the tension easing from both men at the action. The liquid was barely more than a mouthful, but her stomach complained at the intrusion. She squeezed her eyes shut, willing her stomach to hold back its rebellion. After a moment, the sensation reduced and she opened her eyes to find that both men had stepped back towards the door.
"T-thank you." Her voice had not regained any of its smoothness or volume but her throat wasn't complaining as loudly as earlier.
Right Face Plate nodded to her, before removing the cup from her hand. Both men left the cell, their footsteps receding. They left the corridor light on, and leaving the white outline of the small bun still visible. She slowly pulled apart the bun with her bound hands, its texture a little crumbly and dry, and ate in small mouthfuls, willing her stomach to keep each bite down as it passed her lips. Her stomach felt less empty, but her nausea increased with the unexpected introduction of food. Unable to keep the exhaustion at bay any longer, she lay down and curled up. Eventually the dizziness passed and she allowed the crashing waves to ease her back into a restless slumber.
All around her was chaos. The smell of burning flesh permeated the air, causing her to gag. The flames were harsh and hissed through the crisp air. Blood splattered on the snow, glaring against the bright white canvas. Behind her, she could hear the screams ripping through the previously tranquil morning, alongside the war cries and clang of metal as the two armies clashed. Seeing soldiers ahead of her, she ducked behind a makeshift barrier, curling her body as small as she could. After their heavy footsteps passed her, she popped back out and ran. Ran for her home. The cold air assaulted her throat as she panted heavily but she forced her legs to keep pushing. She had to get home. She turned the corner and a moment of relief overwhelmed her as she saw the small igloo. The sight of her home always caused a warm feeling to course through her. Home was her favourite place in the world, home was safe, home was happiness, home was love. She cried out as she burst through the canvas door. Then froze, a scream caught in her throat. He turned to glare at the intrusion and all she could see was the cold black eyes…
She bolted upright, panic surging through her. Her head was on fire, tears poured down her cheeks and her wrists burned as she tried to wrench them apart in her terror. It took a long time to bring her heartrate back down to a regular beat, even longer before her mind allowed her to think past the pain. The tears kept coming. She slowly gained enough awareness of her surroundings to be confused at how her body had enough moisture to cry. A few shuddering breaths and the tears slowly subsided.
The light from the corridor had gone. The storm outside had waned and she sat there for a while, listening to the harmonious, calming waves, before she heard someone in the corridor again.
Lights. Footsteps. Door.
This time it was only one soldier and when he spoke, she immediately recognised Right Face Plate's voice.
"How are you feeling?"
"Dizzy."
"What is your name?"
She didn't answer. After a moment, he continued despite her silence.
"I'm going to bring you some more water and get the doctor to check you. Are you able to behave or am I going to have to get someone to restrain you?"
"I will behave."
Clearly satisfied with her answer, he left and brought back a small glass and another man, one without a face plate. There were dull purple bags under his eyes and his hair was slightly tangled, but he looked at her directly. A small smile graced his face, causing the deep wrinkles near his eyes to crinkle. He placed a small black bag down before crouching next to her.
"My name is Doctor Pang. I am going to check your head and your legs."
His hands were warming, welcomed after the cold floor she'd been sleeping on. They quickly and efficiently skimmed her legs and prodded gently at the worst of the lacerations. Thick cloth and a bottle were removed from the bag. She screwed up her nose at the sharp odour that emerged from the bottle as it was opened, the smell causing her dizziness to overtake her headache again. Doctor Pang noticed her discomfort, apologised and leaned away from her as he poured a tiny amount onto the cloth.
"This is going to sting a little but I need to clean the cuts you have. You're going to need to be brave. Can you do that?"
She nodded, but wasn't prepared for the burning that flowed across her skin as the cloth touched the first of the cuts. She gritted her teeth and crushed her eyes shut, a few tears squeezing out. The smell made her light-headed. She embraced the sensation; it drowned out the pain she was trying to block from her mind. It was over quickly, leaving a stinging sensation and Pang promptly wound the bandage around the affected part of her legs.
"That should stop any infection from spreading." He leaned forward to look at her head. "Head wounds always look really messy. This one is nasty though."
She pulled away at the first contact, a gasp escaping from her. Soon, the horrible smell was back and the burning felt like it was exploding within her head. The agony caused her to bite the inside of her cheek, blood spilling into her mouth. It felt like an eternity but eventually the head wound was also bandaged. Pang leaned back on his heels and smiled at her.
"Do you know who you are?"
She nodded.
"Do you know where you are?"
"On a Fire Nation ship."
"Where did you come from?"
"The Southern Water Tribe."
"How old are you?"
"Seven."
Pang nodded at her before turning to face Right Face Plate. "She doesn't appear to have any issues stemming from the head injury, but I will check on it tomorrow and change the bandages." He got up, his knees creaking miserably. He waited while Right Face Plate passed her the glass of water and she finishes it quickly. Smiling again, he turned and left the cell.
"We are on course for the Fire Nation and should be there within the week. The storm slowed us down a bit." When she didn't answer, Right Face Plate continued. "My name is Lieutenant Yao. Can you tell me your name?"
Silence.
He removed his face plate, and she blinked up at the weathered face gazing upon her. His mouth was pressed in a thin line, but that expression did not reach his deep amber eyes which still had a sparkle to them. As he looked at her, he sighed and his mouth crept up in a little smile, lighting his eyes. He repeated the question then patiently waited. Eventually, she found the courage to give up a little bit of herself, her identity, and found that her voice was a bit stronger than before, despite catching as she answered him.
"M-my name is Katara."
A/N: Hi everyone! After six months of just reading everything I could find on here, I thought I might as well dive head-long into my own story. So naturally I planned out one with five arcs. This should be fun! Just thought it may help to give you a rough idea as to where this is heading. The first arc will be predominately focussed on the next few years of Katara's life in the Fire Nation, along with a pre-Ba Sing Se Iroh and a certain young prince.
Due to some twists and turns of fate this will be followed by a second arc in Jet's forest with an early version of the Freedom Fighters. Because of the timelines involved, this arc will involve some run-ins with a subsequently banished prince and his blue-masked alter-ego. Her path will inevitably collide with the Gaang's when the canon timeline catches up and I have some surprises up my sleeve for how that will all play out.
September 2019 Update: As I said in the beginning, there will be two pairings in this story due to the timeframes involved. However, I've gone ahead and tagged Zutara as the endgame pairing. There will still be some Jetara elements, but I've revisited and updated my outline and figured there wasn't any further need to have the endgame remain a mystery as that is where the story is working towards.
Thanks for reading this far. Hope you enjoy!