Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar, its characters, designs etc. Those are © Mike and Bryan, and Nickelodeon. Li Feng, Mistress Choi, Xue Bao and other original characters are © me, Lady Asvin.
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"I am sorry, Ambassador Katara." The voice floated through his consciousness, disembodied and distant. "The message is quite clear, and I have no choice but to follow Fire Nation law." His eyes were open now, trying to force the world into focus, with only limited success. "You will set sail tomorrow."
Everything became clear; Katara nodded, crying, and the stocky priest who had come in to deliver the message walked out of the room self-righteously. She sank to the foot of the bed, powerful sobs wracking her petite frame. Zuko muttered to himself, forcing his torso to move, his arms to support him, his throat to clear.
"Hey," he said huskily, throat dry despite his efforts. Katara jumped slightly and hurried to wipe her tears, moving to get him a ladleful of water. She held the wooden ladle to his cracked lips as he drank greedily, sloshing precious water over the sides; Katara tried to smile, but the tears had streaked her face and left her looking forlorn.
"You won the match," she said finally. "General Li Feng is close to dead, and as soon as he's treated they'll put him wherever you want him." She pointed to his waist. "You'll have more scars, now." Zuko struggled to pull back his covers and revealed the wrinkled, shiny pink flesh that crossed his legs from toe to thigh. He pressed his eyes closed; I have finally regained my honor, and scars still haunt me. A warm hand pressed against his forehead, and he grabbed it before she could pull away.
"What happened," he asked quietly. He nodded to indicate her tears. Katara took her hand back, holding it into herself as she pondered the question. As a friend, she should tell him honestly. But as anything more than that… Zuko's gold eyes burned into hers.
"I - it seems as though I've violated some sort of code," she began tentatively. "Something about conflicting national interests and the Qi Shi Qi Gai, and the Council of Elders of Sozin's Reign." Zuko struggled to digest this information, finally coming up with the conclusion that Katara was keeping something from him.
"Katara..."
"They've given my hand to a Fire Nation general as a punishment for violating the code." She said it too fast, and Zuko lost his thoughts for a moment. Woah. Wait a minute. What now? Katara was on the verge of crying again, and Zuko put an awkward hand on her shoulder.
"Why was the priest talking about setting sail?" he asked finally, still trying to string together a coherent train of thought. Katara leaned into his touch.
"I think - I think they said I'm to marry a General Chen in the Colonies," she replied slowly. "Tomorrow." Her mouth formed the word several times, as though trying it out anew. Tomorrow, tomorrow, tomorrow... The word rebounded in Zuko's brain like a rocket caught in a glass room. Suddenly, Katara put on a falsely bright smile.
"Imagine that," she said through her tears. "I'll be a Fire Nation bride, even after what happened to my mother." Her laughter was bitter, and Zuko knew the idea was killing her. But something was still niggling the back of his mind.
"Katara, why are you going along with this?" he asked, meeting her gaze straight on. "Why aren't you fighting?" Her face dropped like a stone in water, and she pointed to her waist.
"They took my waterskins," she answered quietly. "They took everything. After Xue Bao and I took you from the arena, we put you here. I went back for some supplies..." She gestured to her empty robes. "The Ambassadors' council saw fit to confiscate my stuff, I guess." Zuko was infuriated; how dare his council make arbitrary decisions while he was out of commission? And not a single medic supplied to his care.
"Katara, I-" he began, but she screamed suddenly, an anguished, terrible scream of a thousand tortures. Zuko moved out of the bed as fast as could, a difficult task; he had seen this happen to prisoner brides, and he knew it wouldn't be pretty. Katara lifted her robes and bent the water from Zuko's basin onto her sizzling skin; only when it had calmed down did she return the water. Her mouth was open in a soundless scream; Zuko could barely stand to keep his eyes open as the brand on Katara's leg revealed itself.
"Property of Chen Shu Yin, General, Phoenix Rank," read Zuko silently, as another man's symbol of ownership appeared on Katara's leg. She was close to passing out, but would not let herself before she knew what barbaric practice she had become a victim of.
"What - what is this, Zuko?" she gasped, the scar tissue rippling morbidly as the unnatural blisters finished their design. He winced.
"Colonial slave brides," he choked out. "They're prisoners of war, magically branded so they don't run away." Katara's eyes rolled back into her head and she fainted; Zuko knew whatever witch had made the brand would be executed within the hour to prevent him from tracking the perpetrators. He pressed his mouth closed and picked Katara up; before he realized it, he was running, running down long-deserted halls in the Imperial Palace. He ran over marble and onyx that had not been touched in centuries, past dusty iron sculptures and braced broadswords mounted on the wall; he ran until he reached a long, crushed-velvet curtain, moth-eaten and putrid from disuse.
"Come on... four to the left, and up..." Zuko muttered frantically; having pulled aside the curtain, he was counting the black pearls in the intricate iron scrollwork behind it. Finding the desired pearl, Zuko blew softly, concentrating heat until it grew red. The pearl sank into the scrollwork and set off a chain reaction; each pearl in the design briefly glowed red and then sank, the ultimate result being a series of holes in the form of the Fire Nation insignia. The entire design lit up brightly, nearly blinding him, and then swung away as a door.
"Uncle," said Zuko, voice raspy, as the door opened into Iroh's palace apartments. The old man had been crouched over a Pai Sho table, but shuffled toward his nephew quickly once he saw the boy's living, breathing, suffering burden.
"What happened, nephew?" Zuko and Iroh lifted Katara onto Iroh's iron four-poster bed; the girl whimpered deep in her throat, and Zuko lifted her robes to reveal the painfully blistering brand. Iroh drew in a heavy breath. "Let me get a healer. I will get to the root of this." He turned to Zuko, motioning to a water jug and pile of linen squares on a nightstand by his bed. "Take care of her."
Take care of her first.
Zuko gingerly inched up Katara's robes, taking care to avoid scraping her leg.
Don't do this to me.
He ran his calloused fingers over the angry red scar, causing her to moan in discomfort; using his other hand, he dipped a linen square in water and softly dabbed at the raw burn.
Don't you know what you do to me?
Clammy fingers circled his wrist; surprised, Zuko looked up to see Katara's face, grimacing in pain, as she observed the burn. Her fingers rested on his pulse.
What about what I want to do?
Slowly, hardly daring to understand what was happening, Zuko saw his hands caress the back of the waterbender's legs; time had stopped but everything was running together in a blur of heat and pain and repressed emotion.
Do you trust me?
Katara placed her hand over his and pulled it into her; the tips of his fingers deduced sensitive collarbone.
Yes.
Her lips opened slightly as Zuko's robes scratched against her burn; her complaint melted into a sigh as the Fire Lord traced her neck, first with his fingers and then, demanding more, with his hand. He pulled her to him.
Lights exploded all around them; not even a barrage of Iroh's fireworks could have competed with the insanity of colors and sounds and sensations ignited by the two teenagers' hungry kisses. As always, they competed with each other; elemental opposites to the end, one's kisses were fervently hot and disordered, guided only by touch. The other responded with a cool intensity, frigid demands making themselves clear through lips otherwise occupied.
They stopped to breathe; neither was aware until that moment the tension involved in avoiding what drew them in against their will. Their foreheads touched.
"Zu-"
"Ka-"
Both stopped sharply, each waiting for the other to speak. Finally, Zuko raised a tentative hand to Katara's face and moved some hair out of her eyes.
"I- I don't know what-" he began, but was interrupted by the slamming of a door behind a curtain. The curtain flew open to reveal Iroh, red-faced and puffing from exertion; taking in the two teenagers, his nephew's hand on the curve of the waterbender's cheek and the atmosphere in the room made Iroh nervous.
"Nephew," he said shortly, "you must leave the Fire Nation." Zuko's face was disbelieving, but his hand never left the girl's face. "Nobleman Wei has sold off Ambassador Katara as a slave bride to the Jeong Regiment of colonial soldiers." The old man's mouth turned into a thin line. "And he has made connections with the Scarlet Orchid recently." Ignoring appearances, Zuko drew Katara's small form into his chest.
"The Scarlet Orchid?" he asked, golden eyes boring into his uncle's. The man nodded grimly. Katara looked between them, afraid to ask. Iroh walked to an armoire and began blowing smoke into the various onyx-inlaid decorative swirls. Katara saw them turn red briefly, but Zuko had already picked her up and was hefting her over his shoulder. The girl cried out as her scar met with abrasive fabric; the last thing Katara saw before passing out in agony was Zuko's determined face, eyes narrowed and glinting with hidden steel.
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Council Chamber.
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"Councilmembers," rang out a weak voice. Only with the aid of a brass horn could the man's audience understand what he said. The crowd quieted.
"We are gathered here to discuss some important information brought to the council by the Royal Physician." A mousy man with a thin, twirling mustache and nervous fingers stood before the crowd. The speaker turned to him. "Honorable Physician Guo, if you will."
The man was wringing his hands, but stepped up to the speaker's platform.
"Councilmembers and Nobleman," the man's watery voice attempted to call attention. "I, uh," the hands worked together, round and round. "I, uh, yes. That is, I have discovered, uh, that our Honorable Fire Lord engaged in, uh," the crowd leaned forward to catch his faint words. "Engaged in illicit - that is, uh, dishonorable - affairs with one of our ambassadors." All heads turned to the Gallery of Ambassadors in the back of the room, separated from the Council by a thick pane of steel dotted with iron scrollwork windows. Realization dawned on the councilmembers as their eyes took in the conspicuous lack of a blue silk robe and long, wavy brown hair, smooth from attention and care.
"As a result." The crowd turned back to the physician, who was mopping cold sweat off his forehead. "As a result, uh, the Honorable Fire Lord has, uh, become... that is, infected." Gasps were heard, robes clutched in disbelief. The man mopped his brow again, but did not elaborate. The first speaker took back his post, shaking a pale hand at his listeners.
"This- is- un- ACCEPTABLE," boomed the man, vocal chords straining. The audience stirred angrily, revolted by their young Fire Lord's apparent indiscretions. Whispers turned into indignant and self-righteous yells, and the general sense of a roar pervaded the Council Chamber. The man on the platform raised his arms for quiet, and the din died down.
"Honorable Councilmembers," quavered his voice. Watery gold eyes surveyed the chaos appreciatively. "It is time to take up arms once again, but this time-" his eyes located his daughter, watching from a gallery.
"This time, it is our turn to rule."
The crowd stood and bellowed as one. Nobleman Wei Shi Ruo smiled wanly and primly made his way to his post next to is daughter.
"Again underestimated," was the girl's only response.
I love Zuko more than I fear you.
You should have feared me more.
Don't you ever break up with me again.
Never.
I just want to be taken care of.
I stopped lightning for her.
Vindictive gold eyes slanted down and away.