Disclaimer: don't own avatar.
Chapter 8: Outside looking inZuko left the dazed girl in his room and hurriedly rushed down the long metal corridor to his Uncle's chamber.
"Uncle!" Zuko hammered the red metal door. " Wake up"
A groggy Iroh answered his beaten door.
"Had a nice sleep?" Iroh asked innocently
Zuko answered him with a homicidal glare.
"I take that as a no" Iroh muttered under his tea-stinking breath.
"Look, she's awake and she needs something to wear."
"Give her something of yours."
"And what would I wear?"
"I think I've got a dress somewhere. Hold on" Iroh shut the door. There was the noise of rummaging and a few gasps of "so that's were you've been hiding", "I forgot where I put you". There was a scratching, scraping sound as an old trunk was heaved open on it's corroded hinges.
"Aha." Iroh pulled open the door. There was a burst of old tea as the old man stepped out and handed Zuko a gold dress. "Here you go, it matches your eye's perfectly.
"IT'S NOT FOR ME YOU OLD FOOL! IT'S FOR THE DAMN GIRL!" Zuko detonated in the previously silent corridor.
"Prince Zuko, calm yourself. I've not had my morning waking tea. Please help me pick one out"
"I don't have time for this" Zuko was not, under the pain of death, entering that teapot's room. "Just pick out something for someone slightly smaller than me" Zuko scowled as Iroh closed the door.
There was more rummaging, Zuko amused himself by thinking of ways to finish off Zhao. Sending him to a tea party with Uncle Iroh was fairly high on the list.
After several minutes of agonisingly boring waiting Iroh opened the metal door and presented Zuko with a plain, deep crimson dress. He then threw a waterproof bag on top of it.
"For her hand" He explained, then rubbed his sleepy eyes and padded back into his room.
"Uncle? Why do you have this dress in the first place" Zuko was worried about his Uncle. Why did he have to be related to the loony?
"Like I always said ' It's not finding something that you were looking for, it's finding something you weren't, at a great price." The old man smiled " I was going to give it as a gift for your sister"
"I see" Zuko carefully backed off down the corridor. The old man was definitely loosing it. Azula in a dress he was utterly insane. Shaking his head Zuko headed back to his quarters.
Zuko carefully opened the door, prepared for an ambush, an escape attempt, anything hostile and violent but she hadn't moved. She was sitting on the bed were he'd left her. Her emerald eye's searching the room. Carefully taking in every detail, in a search of anything normal, anything that she could identify.
She groaned quietly, inwardly to herself, as her search was fruitless. Any thing that wasn't red was black and anything that wasn't black was gold or some other burning colour. There was no cool pine green, or a refreshing spring green or even a wholesome grass green. All her life she had been surrounded by reminders of her gift, each shade of green showed what a real earth-bender could do. The harsh rocky green showing the most obvious side, the violent side but the cooler greens showing the healing and the light, springy greens showing the growth and the nurturing side to earth-bending, a side few have seen.
Zuko barged into the room. Her emerald eyes swept over him and behind him to the door. Noticing how she was slowly tensing her muscles, ready to move he slammed it shut. There was a dismal look on her face showing despair, distress and the overwhelming look of hopeless defeat.
"Here" He threw the dress at her. "I'll show you the bathroom" He walked over to the side of the room and pulled open the dark metal door that led into the en suite bathroom.
It was red; not an obvious colour for a bathroom but this was a fire-nation ship. There was a white bath to the right as she peered through the door. There was a toilet to the left. Standing in front of her was a sink and mirror. She stared at herself. Who was this person staring back, face caked in mud and blood, hair matted. She shook slightly.
Zuko handed her two clean towels and the dress.
"This bag is to stop your hand from getting wet, I'll help…" he gently took her hand.
She snatched her hand back as if his open palm was a naked flame, gasping in pain of the action. He frowned and rolled his eyes.
"I won't hurt you, I promised, remember" He whispered as she cradled her broken hand, like a mother cradles a newborn baby.
He reached for her hand again. Trembling she offered it to him, expecting a sharp slice of pain. He was disgusted that she would think that of him. He was not Zhao, he was not like that demented Commander and he was NOTHING like his father. Gently he slipped the shaking bandage into the bag. His agile fingers tying a tight knot above her wrist.
"There, I told you I wouldn't hurt you" He smiled down at her. He got a tiny smile back. " You've got two hours" he frowned, closing the bathroom door.
Araic immediately clicked the bolt in place.
She slipped into the warm water, gasping as it stung the many cuts and scratches that tattooed her body. The bubbles she had chosen were from a peach-coloured bottle with the picture of a brilliant, fiery orange-red-golden flower. The water lapped around her, rocking her as if she were a troubled toddler and whose mother was comforting and rocking back to sleep. The scent of the bubbles reminded Araic of someone, someone a long time ago. Someone who's masculine arms often rocked her back to sleep when she was just a child. It had been over ten years since she had breathed in this exotic fragrance.
She could feel herself slipping under the water, letting herself be rocked to sleep. No, she was off the island now. She did not have to go. She had a whole knew life ahead of her. Gasping Araic pulled her waterlogged hair out of the water and reached for the soap.
So who was this prince charming who had saved me from the tower? He wasn't that charming but he was a prince. I can tell that from the way they show themselves. Arrogant at a first glance, courteous, formal, short tempers. Remember lord Sanu's son, nearly got beheaded for calling him a pig-headed numb skull (((and some other phrases that the author doesn't feel like typing in case this is read by her parents)))).
He did save me. But why? He's clearly a very powerful bender. He didn't have to save me. Maybe he's going to…. No. I woke up in the same bed as him, I am in his tub.
Araic quickly decided that that was long enough to get rid of all her aches and bruises.
The water looked like someone had added raspberry-diluting juice to it, the red liquid swirled in the water like smoke from a fire before fusing into nothing giving the water a red tint. She pulled the plug and watched it slowly drain away. I wonder where it goes? Does it go straight into the sea or is it collected? Is it purified? If I had the chance would I disappear down the plughole? Where would I end up?
Araic stood in silence, staring into the mist that swirled in the room, like smoke from a distant fire. She watched rise and fall, watching as her breath swirled it, making the droplets curl round each other as if it were some eerie supernatural dance that she should not be witnessing. Then the ship swung to the right, disturbing the dance of the mists and shattering the thoughts from her mind. The moment was lost to the abyss of time.
Araic shook the remains of the broken thoughts from her head and reached for a towel. Feeling the soft texture on her bruised skin. It soaked up the water on her skin like she was wrapped in a giant sponge. She wrapped the smaller of the two towels round her tangled hair, pulling her hair up into a turban.
The new clothes the prince had given her lay in a pile on the warm red tiled floor. She held the dark-red silk in her hands. Stroking it over, feeling it. This was what the noblemen that visited wore. This was not what she ever wore. It looked expensive even though it was plain not decorated like theirs. Had her mother ever worn a beautiful dress like this? It was very high quality silk, something a princess should wear not a half-breed earth-bender. She slid it through her hands feeling the soft cool kiss of the silk upon her hands. The gentle touch it had, was it really the mist she was holding, would it vanish in the sun, like a dream in the morning light.
Carefully she pulled it on. It fitted her almost perfectly. She smoothed it down feeling the silkiness on her skin. The long sleeves extended several inches past her fingertips, concealing her ugly, bandaged, broken hand. It was a deep passionate red and stopped an inch before the ground. Araic had never worn clothes like this. Her clothes were chosen for warmth, durability, comfort and most valuably the freedom of movement. She normally wore a tunic that was belted and stopped above her knee and baggy trousers that stopped above her ankles. These were made for the ease of her movement and were made from wool and other natural materials she had never worn silk. She had always pitied the girls that had arrived wearing dresses like this thinking that they were uncomfortable and absolutely freezing to wear. She had always thought they were heavy and limited the freedom of movement. This, however, was light. If the need raised she could run fine in it, thanks to the slit on the right side that stopped halfway up her upper-leg. The only major problem in the dress, besides the colour, was that it was thin. She would freeze if she went outside. This dress was made for an evening stroll in the private gardens not on a ship at sea or a run in the forest.
Araic lifted her ripped green shreds of material. They had once been a camouflage green but were now tinged with red, stained brown and in places had been burned black. She found the pocket and pulled out the rag doll and pocket sized photo. They had escaped the war that had blitzed her clothes, they were still in one piece. She sighed in relief.
She stared at the man in the photograph. His half his hair was pulled back into a ponytail the rest flowed freely down his back. He smiled to her mother and out at her. Araic could feel the silent tear ready to be released. His amber eyes stared out at her smiling.
"Look father what your noble soldiers have done to me. What am I Daddy? I have been abandoned by the earth-kingdom and have been tortured by the fire nation. Who am I, what am I? What have I got myself into" Araic sobbed, then carefully banked the items into the pocket cleverly concealed as a seam on the left side of the dress.
She remembered how the visitors described her as an earth-guard: tribal, an ancient warrior, almost like a spirit of the earth, a god of the land. The way her eyes looked over them seeing into their souls, it scared them how her emerald eyes were ringed in gold and then in green-grey face paint. It subconsciously reminded them of the fire nation, this made them fear her. She liked that fear, fear was power, fear gave you things, but fear was unstable as quickly as it brought you power it stripped you of it, in the woods she was terrified, she could smell her own fear. These Fire benders probably thought she was weak, but weakness was a perfect cover. Wait for the right moment, then strike, fool them in to a sense of security, let the deer think he's lost you before pouncing from the bush. Araic smiled, her father had taught this lesson but Macha the grey wolf had given her a use for it.
There was a mirror in the room, it hung over the sink, like portal into another world. Mirrors were rare only the fire nation could make them. Delicately Araic reached out and wiped away the cloaking mist
Who was this strange being staring back? Who was this disfigured face? Who was this creature staring back at her?
Her left eye had three parallel slashes running through it. The middle started above her eyebrow, slicing through it and ceasing a moment above the edge of her mouth. The other two, one at either side, started just above her eyebrow and ended, in line with each other, on her cheek. (((Imagine 'Scar' from 'the lion king' but with three instead of one.)))
Shaking Araic ran a quivering finger over the centre slash. She had been scarred with the mark of 'The Claw'. A sign to all, that she was a convicted criminal. A sign that she was an evil, no-good, thief. A sign that she was a murderer, a law-breaker, an outlaw, a robber, a thief, a bandit, a pirate, a doer of wrong, an evil person, an outcast. She had been an outcast her whole life, living with the wolves, living with the old witch. All her dreams of being accepted, all her dreams of finally finding a new life, vanished like the mist. As soon as a guard seen the mark she would be thrown from the city. She would be an outcast, a vagrant, a vagabond, a castaway, and a loner for the rest of her miserable life. No healer would heal the mark of a criminal. She had often stood, as a wolf child, at the edge of the hunters' fires, just outside the light wanting in. Always her life had been on the outside looking in. First because of her father, then because of her wolves, then because of the old Witch Meva, then because of her Earth-bending gift and now because she had been marked as a bloodthirsty criminal. All her wishes, all her dreams of finally being accepted, finally being wanted, finally belonging somewhere…anywhere, that dream, that one thing she yearned for more than anything had been ripped from her outstretched arms, shredded to pieces. She would never be in the company of others, she would never be wanted, she would always be outside looking in.
The tears rolled freely, like waves on the shore. They stung her face. She sat hugging herself in the steamy room. Crying softly. Stop feeling sorry for yourself, girl. You're alive, be happy. So you've got a scratch, buy make-up. No good ever came of sitting crying. That prince probably thinks he can walk all over you now. Get up, girl. Your young, you've got your whole life in front of you so stop moping and go and brush your hair. Araic let the mental voice talk her into getting up and brush her hair.
"You've got hair like a whin bush" That's what Meva had always said as she struggled to get the bush through her hair. Araic smiled slightly remembering the smiling, slightly creased, old lady that always made her smile. Araic struggled on with her hair.
After several minutes of brushing her hair fell into its natural position. She had found the brush, plain and black, beside the mirror. Her face had once been symmetrical, you could have drawn a line down the centre but that had been ruined by the ugly scar she now bore.
Araic's fringe, like everything else about her, was unique. The fringe was identical on both sides a line of symmetry could be drawn down the middle. To make this easier I will describe only one side. The first was a small scratch of hair, on the inside of her eye and stopped when it drew level with it. The second gash of black hair slashed through her eye, mimicked now by the centre slash of the scar. It hid part of the scar but did not leave enough of it to the imagination for Araic's liking, the hair actually emphasised the trilogy of slashes running down her eye. This group of hair stopped in the centre of her cheek. The outside group of hair, continued down, past her jaw. The longest of the three it had more curve and arched round, stopping below her chin, nearly touching it's twin on the other side of her face. This effect was mirrored on the other side of Araic's face.
Araic let the rest of the dark river of hair run free. It flowed halfway down her back. The twilight of her hair reflected shimmers of light like stars on a moonless night sky.
Araic was finally ready to face the strange world that lay behind the sanctuary of the doors.
Gingerly, she opened the door. He wasn't there. Sighing she sat down on one of the chairs beside the long dead fire.
Zuko sauntered up to the deck. His uncle seemed to be discussing something with the captain. Maybe if he was quiet he could slip by without being…
"Prince Zuko aren't you supposed to be with the guest" Iroh had caught him. Silently Zuko cursed. Why did he have to baby-sit the mud-n-blood monster in his room?
"I gave up waiting. How long does it take girls to get dressed?" Zuko asked with a frown of annoyance.
"You have no idea" Uncle Iroh grinned.
"Uncle look what I got off the hostage." Zuko showed the wrist-plate to his Uncle, with a slight note of excitement in his voice.
Iroh took the wrist-plate. Turning it over in his hands. Feeling the smoothness. Inspecting the way the light reflected off it. Studying the wrist-plate from every angle.
"Look at this" Zuko pointed to the small inscription carved into the wrist-plate in minute letters
Commander Zair Komodo"They stopped giving these out years ago, I don't think Zhao has one either."
"Do you think we're dealing with an all powerful Earth-master here. I mean she must be strong to take down a commander" Zuko was not masking the excitement in his voice anymore, would an all-powerful earth-bender compensate for the avatar, somehow Iroh didn't thinks so. "However Zhao's a commander but then he's…"
"Why don't you ask her, she'll be out by now" Iroh suggested, cutting off Zuko.
Zuko changed his face to unreadable and walked away.
Waiting until Zuko was carefully out of earshot Iroh continued hi conversation
"Are you sure leaving the girl in his room was a good idea, General Iroh"
"My nephew is a complicated young man. For the past two years he has had very little contact with people his own age exceedingly rare for him to talk to females his own age. I think her being there will help him"
"You mean help him control that temper"
"Of course what else would I mean" Iroh grinned, sipping his tea
There was a bang, as the door slammed open. Zuko stormed out furious. His hands were smoking slightly, his jaw was clenched and his right eye was twitching. The girl didn't look too happy either. She had levitated all the Pai sho pieces of the table in front of Iroh. She was preparing to launch an air-assault at Zuko's over-sized head.
"Good luck" The captain said patting Iroh in the shoulder, leaving him, Zuko and the earth-girl alone.
Iroh sighed inwardly. Ten minutes, ten fucking minutes and Zuko had already made an enemy of the girl. Why was he so Ahhh…?
"I'll teach you talk to me like that" Zuko roared at the girl.
"Whenever your ready, princess" Her emerald eyes narrowed and she emitted a very low feral growl.
Zuko snarled. And sent a few promises and curses towards the girl.
Zuko sent a flame to wards the girl but she agilely dodged the ball of swirling fire and sent all the Pai sho pieces into bombard Zuko.
Zuko snarled, his two hands engulfed with flame. The girl had pulled the wooden stool out from underneath Iroh's fat, behind and was spinning it above her head. Leaving Iroh on the ground stunned for a few moments. When his senses returned he leapt to his feet and blocked the two warriors.
"I think we're still tired from last night" He spoke slowly in a calming tone " how about we all sit down and have some calming jasmine tea."
Iroh found another stool, Zuko grabbed the one aimed at his head.
"Zuko, give that seat to the young lady"
"What lady?" Zuko smirked
Araic pulled the chair out from underneath him, leaving a smoking Zuko and sat down on it smirking at Zuko. Her smirk vanished when she seen what was lying on the empty Pai sho board. The wrist-plate glistened in the sea sunlight. Araic's hand quickly darted forward, in an attempt to retrieve it but she never reached it. Zuko's vice-like grip held back her reaching arm. He held on to her arm tight, she could feel the pins and needles beginning to start, Zuko was enjoying this, he smirked.
"Zuko let the young lady go!" Iroh interrupted.
Araic remained sitting, glaring hatefully up at Zuko. Iroh could feel the tension.
"How foolish of me. I am Iroh and this is my nephew Zuko"
"That's Prince Zuko to you, you vagabond"
"Zuko! Stop that!" Iroh scolded Zuko " You are currently on his ship. We are heading for Brogan. Please have tea with us."
Araic was immediately suspicious but the old man was smiling openly even if Zuko was frowning at the table, not looking at her. He had got another stool. Araic hadn't eaten for a full day so accepted the old man, Iroh's offer.
"So what is your name, child" Iroh said giving the girl a steaming cup of jasmine tea.
The girl muttered something incoherent.
"Sorry in my old age I'm going deaf. On the beach your leader called you 'Wolfchild'. That can't be your real name. What is you real name, child?"
"Araic" She murmured a bit louder
"A-ray-ic" Iroh said the name slowly, thoughtfully " Interesting. Is it Earth-kingdom"
She nodded
"Why do they call you wolf child…" Iroh started
"ENOUGH OF THIS" Zuko shouted, upsetting a cup of tea. He was tired of this pointless conversation about names.
"What have you done with the Commander"
"Commander?"
"Commander Zair Komodo!"
The girl trembled, her eyes filling with tears. Tears of loss and despair.
"Did you act alone or did you have help" Zuko just didn't know when to quit. Seeing her upset gave Zuko a strange power over her. He smirked as she stood up, tears streaming down her red eyes, and walked away.
"Zuko that's ENOUGH. You…" Iroh pointed at a guard "Take the young lady to the infirmary"
Zuko seemed pleased with his work and poured himself another cup of tea.
"Zuko, Zuko, Zuko" Iroh muttered "Rule 1. In making friends is don't upset them"
Zuko stopped drinking, slamming the cup down.
"Firstly I was only trying to find out what she did to the commander. Secondly I don't want to make friends and thirdly I didn't mean to make her cry." Zuko hissed, masking any of the remorse he felt for his actions.
"Isn't it obvious who the Commander was" Iroh said then seeing the puzzled look on his nephews face he explained.
"Komodo was clearly her father. If it weren't for her eyes I would have sworn on all the tea in Omashu that she was fire-nation. Look at the hair, jet black. Only the Fire Nation and the water tribes have hair that colour and her skin is too pale to be water tribe. Her eyes are emerald green a trait carried by the Earth kingdom. I suggest you apologias "
"Over my lifeless corpse" Zuko stomped off.
Yeah! Finished.
Whin bush---a gorse bush like bush. My mum's gran used to say "You've got hair like a whin bush" to my mum over her screaming. "You're pulling my hair out"
I would like to thank my reviewer breathelesslove for her inspiring reviews. If she never wrote them I wouldn't be writing this.
I have just reached the 300 hits point and I'm disappointed with the lack of REVIEWing.
I won't be able to update as much as the easter holz are ending but I'll try to update as quick as I can.
Hope you all enjoyed, remember REVIEW.
