Part One

Chapter Two: Perfect Strangers

After the healing session she put the man on sled she'd made from ice and brought him into an abandoned house that her grandfather use to keep all his hunting equipment; no one ever went in there anymore –only Sokka and her when they were kids, but to everyone else, it was off limits. It was warm in there with a little Fire Nation style fireplace and being the only room in the South Pole with wooden flooring, it has bond to keep her patient safe.

Why was she doing this? Katara wasn't a normal everyday do gooder –considering the vast amounts of snobbish, on-my-hit list worthy people that she was surrounded by everyday- but decided this would be good for the Southern Watertribe.

A strong young nobleman with a generous father that would provoke good thoughts of her people towards the much stronger nation.

It was a (work in progress) plan that she intended to go through with.

Being seen was another thing to be wary about, although it was dark out every lantern in the village was lit tonight and if her people caught an enemy –even an unconscious one- there would be an execution tomorrow morning. But because of the storm everyone was busy tracking the other hunters.

She looped her arms under his and pulled him onto the fur covered cot. Her hands roved over the black fur coat again, trying to identify the animal. Finally, she removed the coat to expose, yet again, the tan chest.

A blush came over her suddenly. Earlier it had been too urgent for her to notice the define sculpt of the muscles on his chest. . .and arms. She fought back the urge to touch him more than she needed to and began to bind his broken arm and the makeshift wraps she put around his midsection.

Grabbing the bandages from the bag she'd found, Katara ran her hand once more over his left arm, broken in two places, and the water in his body moved to put the bone back in place. He jolted and she put the splint in place and began to wrap the bandages to hold it there.

Exhausted, Katara fell back in a chair near the bed, unraveled the white fur coat she wore, then leaned back. Falling into a lazy sleep there.

She heard the cot creek and she opened her eyes to look at the man as he tried to sit up, realizing his injuries and his half-nakedness. He grunted in pain and leaded over in a way that his forehead almost touched his knees, the entire time gripping his arm, tightly.

"Don't do that." She said placing her soft hand over his callus one, fire seemed to flow through her body from the touch. He glanced at her through the corner of his eye, almost threateningly. Her hand slipped off his and reached behind him to make a thick pillow out of the extra furs in the room. "Are you in pain?"

Stupid question, of course he was.

"Where am I? Who are you?" His voice was rough and cracked as he turned to face her fully, ignoring the pain in his limbs. Katara's eyes lingering a little longer than necessary at the scar on the left side of his face. He didn't seem to mind or notice, she couldn't tell which, but kept his gaze locked with hers, refusing to let her look away from him.

"My name is Katara; I'm a healer of the Southern Watertribe. I found you outside my village." She took a step back to make him feel more comfortable. "You're lucky I did; you punctured a lung and broke your arm in two places. You would have frozen to death out there-"

"Where's my uncle?"

He looked up at her –waiting, expecting an answer. And she stood silent, almost shocked on how much like an earlier conversation –"Kya! Where is Kya! ?"- she tried to keep her tone light. "I didn't see anyone else."

"Where are you keeping him?" He said again, dark gold eyes narrowing.

"I was looking for my brother when I stumbled across you and I swear on my vows that I saw no one else, nor did any prisoners come here." She said softly, trying not to get angry when he didn't believe her. What reason did she have to lie?

What reason did she have to tell the truth?

He's in foreign territory, he has ever right to be suspicious.

"Why didn't you take me to your chief?" He asked after a long silence.

"I don't like him." Katara said simply. "And he doesn't like me either, though I doubt that if he were to find out about my actions he could punish me for them." She looked at his arm again and tugged at the bandage there. "Not too tight?"

"It's fine. . .Very stupid thing to do on your part. Couldn't he kill you with a curved blade or something like that?" He moved his arm a little, realizing it didn't seem broken. "How did you do that?" He asked.

"Excuse me?"

"I saw you heal my arm, how did you do it?"

"I used the water in our body. It took years of practice and it's very risky to use."

"Katara!" A voice shouted from outside, causing her to jump. "Lady Katara!" No doubt it was her Gran-Gran's theatrical maid Kikyo.

"Someone's looking for you." He murmured, trying to see out the small, scratched up window which Katara quickly blocked with a scrap of cloth. Blocking his view of the outside world –and it's to him.

"If only she knew she was the reason I hide."

"Lady Kana, the princess is missing!" She heard her footsteps run in the opposite direction, snow crunched under her pace and she was going to alarm everyone with her voice that seemed to carry like wind.

"'Princess Katara'?" His golden eyes widened a little, trying her title for himself.

"Yes, that means I'm the chief's daughter." She quick grabbed her fur parka; pulling it over her she ignored her patient's curious looks. "I'll be back when I can with some food. Stay away from the windows, and keep the fire low." She added before slipping out the door. "Kikyo! I'm not lost!"

~!~ Let me rephrase this: They look like they do in the movie (WHICH SUCKED ((I KNOW I WASTED TIME AND MONEY)) BECAUSE THEY GOT ALL THE DAMN NATIONS WRONG AND NONE OF THEM COULD ACT) but Katara is tanner and Zuko (sorry) has the hair that he did in the middle of the second season. Short, cropped. There. ~!~

This was originally part of the first chapter~ Oh, and I found all my original writing for part two so I am a-okay! Liscene. Drving. Need money. Want a job. Love school. Dog has OCD. Got contacts. Dislike my English teacher. Will kill the next person who says homecoming. Who the hell left their pants at my house.

Love ya,

~QueenVamp