-Chapter 13- Tell Me Why
"Somehow, I feel I missed an important lesson about the motives of men."
.
The sun had not even risen the next morning when Katara was woken by loud gongs outside. She noticed Zuko quickly sit up in bed, then throw his legs over the side and stumble to his dresser. He changed into a silk outfit of many reds, the designs chased with gold embroidery, and hurried from the room without even glancing her way. Katara rolled onto her side, happy that he did not appear to be limping and that the swelling in his ankle had gone down. He seemed to be in perfect shape once more.
The youngest prince was gone long enough for the sun to rise over the edge of the volcano the city sat in and begin to peek into the room. Katara stretched once she woke, hoping she would not be too stiff from sitting so long in her single position healing the prince the previous night. She still had a hard time believing that he would break laws to keep his promise, but she was thankful all the same.
The watertribe girl made her way to her single drawer in the dresser to change clothes. She had just finished tying on her supportive underclothing when the door was flung open. She spun to find the prince staring, obviously not expecting what he walked in on. He spotted her state of undress and tried not to turn bright red. She was unfazed; everything was covered. Katara held the shirt she had just taken off to her chest and noticed Zuko seemed to relax some.
"Everything go ok at the festival?" Katara asked.
"No," Zuko replied. "It hasn't fully started yet. I need you to get dressed. What are the fanciest robes you have?" He came closer as she pulled out each item of clothing Iroh had given her.
Zuko pointed. "Put these on. Hurry!" Katara pulled on the long maroon tunic and silken pants that she had worn to the arena when her fellow tribesman was killed and tied the yellow sash around her waist. Zuko waited impatiently as she smoothed the extra fabric around her shoulders and frowned slightly when she finished.
"What?" She questioned, trying to look in the small reflecting glass in the bathroom.
"The dragons on your collar," Zuko explained. "They show you belong to my uncle. If you mess up or someone asks about you, it goes straight back to him."
"So each prince has an animal they sew onto their servants' clothing?" Katara asked. Zuko nodded, seemed to decide it would have to do for the time being and pulled her out of the room by her left wrist.
"Wait!" she squeaked, surprised when he dragged her off. "Where are we going?"
"Two of my father's servants fell ill last night and can't work today. We're already understaffed since Uncle doesn't to keep any himself. So you get to help out." Zuko explained as he pulled her down new hallways to the front of the palace.
"But-"
"All you'll be doing is refilling glasses. It's like refilling Uncle's teacup, except everyone has one." Zuko stopped outside a set of curtains, peeked through them, and called to a tall thin man dressed in similar robes to Katara. She noticed the hawk embroidery on his collar and thought about asking Zuko who's symbol it was. She decided against it.
"I brought you someone to help with serving in the main room," Zuko explained to the man.
"Of course, Prince Zuko," the servant bowed. "Thank you for your consideration." Zuko nodded in response, gave Katara a once over and then a hard stare. She was not quite sure what he wanted, so she bowed. When she lifted her head, she noticed he had vanished, leaving her and the man alone.
"What's your name?"
"Katara," she replied. She thought him to be maybe in his 50's. His salt and pepper hair and graying mustache gave some of his age away, but he stood straight and proud and his brown eyes still held much youth in them.
"Kah-tara, I trust you know how to fill drinks?" He seemed un-phased by his strange pronunciation of her name. She took it in stride; at least he was not giving her dirty looks for simply being from the Water Tribe.
"Yes."
"Good. There are pitchers of tea-wine in this storage room here." He pointed to the door nearby. "The wine is in the jugs marked with red. Those come out now until the performance is over. Once the benders do the Salute to the Sun, then you'll serve the fire-whiskey for the rest of the day. Those are marked in yellow. Understood?"
Katara nodded. "Yes."
"Good," the man grinned. "If anything goes wrong or if you need more of anything, you come to me. My name is Stahn, I'm in charge of the event today. The others know where I'll be if you need help." Katara nodded and watched him disappear back through the curtains. She pushed one aside and took a quick look. The grandeur of the room took her breath away.
The open room was two stories tall around the edges and three in the center. Balconies looked over the edges of the room, supported by pillars of black marble. All the stone was polished to a high gloss, though most of it was hung with decorative curtains in browns and golds. The screen she hid behind was on the side of the room, almost tucked up in the far corner from the main door. An ornate throne which looked like it had not been used for much of anything in many decades sat nearby on the northern wall. It was raised up on a dais, surrounded by low burning flames.
The room was mostly empty save for a few servants putting the finishing touches on the table décor and food arrangement. The far end held the grand entryway, through which Katara assumed the guests would be entering later on. She closed the curtain and walked to the room where the pitchers were stored.
Katara found the jugs of tea wine, pausing for a second to wonder what the liquid actually was. She knew what tea was but wine was something else entirely. The young girl was not about to sample it, but that did not mean she was above catching a whiff of the beverage as she poured it from its storage jug into the serving pitcher. It smelled of cherries as well as hot brewed tea, though it was served cold.
Katara entered the large room with her full pitcher just as the large door opened. Other servants stood straighter, ready with cups, food, and beverages as the mass of people entered.
Watching the other servants begin to move around the room into more strategic positions, Katara wondered when the only event she knew of would begin. Since this was the capital of the Fire Nation, she expected nothing short of grandiose for the summer solstice festival. The crowd moved deeper into the room; the people never seemed to end.
"Tea-wine sir?" Katara offered the first group of men she came to. The closest man nodded and held out his cup to her. Ignoring her, the other men in the group held out their glasses slightly when she approached. When all their glasses where filled, she moved off, making her way across the room.
Men, women, and even children milled around the main room, gossiping with one another. Katara noticed as she filled glasses that the crowd seemed to be made up of citizens from all social and economic levels.
The nobles were easy to spot with their finely decorated dresses and tunics and even finer jewelry. Katara was surprised to see the lower-class citizens present in the palace. While they weren't dressed in rags, their clothing was faded and worn in spots. There appeared to be an even distribution of each social class in the room, all scattered about.
Katara returned to the room after fetching a new pitcher and walked passed two other serving girls. They stayed together, weaving through the crowd. Katara watched as one of them stopped to pour water into a child's cup while her partner refilled his parents' glasses with tea-wine. They seemed to have a good system going.
After switching out pitchers twice more, the crowd began to part. Katara finished pouring a man's drink and then followed the other servants to the back of the main room when she saw them move in that direction out of the corner of her eye. She spotted Stahn leading them out through the curtain through which they had entered.
"The Salute to the Sun dance is about to begin," he explained to the group of twenty or so servants. "After the Fire Lord enters, everyone with tea wine will take it to the table on the far side of the room." He tapped a man and woman on the shoulder near the front. "You two will keep serving it to the guests until we run out."
He seemed to do a mental count of the pitchers still remaining and nodded twice. "If you were serving tea-wine come back here to get the fire-whiskery when you're finished." Katara nodded along with the others and waited until she was cleared to go. When the procession of servants reentered the room, someone was speaking to the crowd.
"-of the summer solstice," he announced. The crowd cheered, hardly noticing the servants slipping between people on their way to the opposite corner of the room.
"As is tradition, the Salute to the Sun will be performed when the sun reaches its zenith!" Katara paused to see who was speaking and moved between two guests. A man dressed completely in red with a strange hat and wide shoulder pieces addressed the crowd once more; Katara hurried to catch up to the others. She assumed he was one of the Fire Sages the prince had been talking about.
"This year, after much anticipation, our very own Prince Zuko and Princess Azula will be performing for us." The crowd buzzed with excitement. Somewhere, music began to play; a single sungi horn with some stringed instrument filled the air. Waiting to put the pitcher with the others behind the table, Katara searched the room for the instruments. Instead, she spotted the dancers.
The crowd cleared out the center of the room, pressing up into the corners of the room and around the pillars to see. Katara noticed most of the nobles and other finely dressed guests had moved upstairs to watch from the balconies. From above them on the southern wall, a great shaft of sunlight burst forth. She wondered if someone had opened the curtains on a large window.
The other servants had paused in their movements as well to watch. Katara left the pitcher of tea-wine at the table and scoped out a good spot. A nearby pillar just behind the bulk of the crowd was perfect. She stepped up onto the column's base and could clearly see over everyone's heads while gripping the marble to keep her balance.
The music seemed to dictate the dance, or was the music just adding to it? Either way, the siblings moved in perfect time to the rhythm. Both dancers were dressed in pure white silk with gold edging.
They would have stood out even without being so different from the other guests colorwise though. The prince wore only a pair of loose pants, bound tight at his ankles, a long sash tied at his hips. The princess was dressed in similar pants and a midriff bearing halter tied top. Katara realized this was why Zuko had been so worried about the burn. He was completely exposed; people would ask too many questions. For as much skin as both of them showed however, the outfits were not revealing. They were ceremonial; meant to show the lithe, toned bodies of the chosen benders.
Below them, standing just before the flames of the raised dais with the throne, Katara spotted the woman whom she remembered from lunch with Iroh and the man next to her, who she assumed was Zuko's father. Above the two of them, surrounded by constant flames, she saw the ancient Fire Lord, Azulon. His gaze was focused on the two dancers, his youngest grandchildren. It seemed he had a permanent frown etched onto his face. Katara shuddered and turned back to watch the rest of the dance.
The prince and princess faced each other, slowly mirroring the other's form and sliding into the next one seamlessly. The first burst of flame came from Zuko. It echoed out from his left foot along the ground like a shock wave, stopping inches from the crowd. Azula followed suit, her own blue flames surprising Katara. She heard some of the crowd's reaction as well. It seemed positive, though Katara was not sure how firebending could be blue.
The siblings moved through several more stances, each time, their flames growing larger, extending farther. The dance was well choreographed, the elements of the firebending blended well with the more theatrical movements. After several minutes the music sped up and Zuko and Azula stood once again facing each other in the center of the beam of sunlight. They both fell into a crouch, right legs extended forward, and sent a steady stream of fire at the center between them. The two flames mixed, spiraling upward, and spreading slowly. Katara noticed that the blue fire eventually turned back to oranges the longer it lived, just a normal fire dyed a deep red color instead of its usually brilliant yellow. She figured it had something to do with the temperature of the flames and force behind them. Katara had to stop herself from wondering about how burns could be different if the prince verses the princess was behind them and watched them step closer to each other. The flames kept coming until they both bent at the knee, just feet from each other, and lifted the spiral of flames from the ground. Katara watched in awe as the fire bunched into a giant swirling sphere.
Together, the siblings lifted it above their heads and turned to stand back to back. They held it there for a long moment, letting the crowd marvel at the magnitude of the fireball. It reminded Katara of the sun in the sky.
Then both of them fell to the ground in a deep bow, foreheads pressed to the ground. Katara pressed her hand to her open mouth, stopping her gasp from escaping. The flaming miniature sun hung in the air above them for a long moment until it appeared gravity finally took hold of it and the flames dropped. The fire seemed to splash over the two dancers like a drop of molten water, rolling back into the air and then fading to wisps. Once the flames were gone, the prince and princess were already up and facing the Fire Lord.
The crowd went wild, cheering and clapping after the grand performance. Zuko and Azula bowed to the Fire Lord, then turned and left the great room through the main doors. As they exited, the fire sage came out and began speaking. Katara only then realized that the rest of the servants had made it back to the curtain already. She hurried over to them, trying not to draw attention to herself by running.
"-excellent performance by Prince Zuko and Princess Azula. Now the festival of the summer solstice can begin!" Katara slipped through the curtain as the crowd cheered once more.
Stahn handed her a pitcher, noticing that she had just appeared. She tried not to look guilty; she truthfully had not noticed the rest of the servants file out, assuming they were all still watching like her. The manservant said nothing, though his eyes seemed to hold laughter. Katara did not think too much about it; she returned to the room to resume her task.
Zuko and his sister returned shortly after, each in normal formal clothing once more. Zuko was back in the outfit she had seen him change into that morning. He held a cup, but even from the distance, she could tell it was unfilled. The room had emptied some, so it made traversing it easier. Most of the lower-class citizens were in the process of vacating the room; leaving it filled with nobles and the better dressed citizens. A few feet away from the prince, Katara noticed his mother approach him and the princess.
She hung back, filling a nearby man's cup instead as she watched the interaction. The man paid her more attention than most, but Katara was not focused on him or his wandering eyes.
The woman put her hands on Zuko's shoulders, smiling warmly as she spoke a few words Katara was not close enough to hear, but she understood they were positive. When their mother moved to Azula, the princess simply seemed to tolerate the congrats.
Zuko looked around, spotted Katara, and eyed the pitcher in her hand. She continued her path to where the three of them were standing. She began to fill Zuko's cup when a man approached the group, standing near the woman. Katara finished pouring the drink, chanced a quick glance upward to see who towered over them and only then noticed his cup slightly stretched in her direction, as if it was too much work to truly show he wanted her to fill it. Annoyed, Katara poured the beverage.
"What did you think of the performance father? Mom already-" Azula said before Ozai interrupted her.
"You did well Azula," he said. He turned to the youngest prince and nodded as well. "It was a good performance. One people will talk about for many years to come." Katara finished pouring the cup and turned to leave but was halted when Ozai spoke.
"Wait girl. Aren't you Iroh's tea servant?" Katara turned back to him, glancing once at Zuko.
"Yes my lord," she replied. She kept her blue eyes on his well shod feet. While Zuko and herself seemed to have reached an understanding, she recalled his original lessons on acting like a proper servant. His father did not seem like a man to be trifled with, and she did not wish to be screamed at like the servant at lunch a few days back.
"Why didn't my brother take you with him?" Ozai questioned. Katara lost her voice for a moment; she wondered why it mattered to him why she was here and not there. It was not like she was his to command.
"Master Iroh," she began to say, her hands tightening around the jug, "left me here to complete a number of tasks before his return."
"Why?"
"I am not sure," Katara spoke, her voice shaking. "It's not a servant's role to question her master."
"Ozai," the woman said gently, putting a hand on her husband's arm. She offered a small smile in Katara's direction before turning back to her husband. "She's Iroh's servant. She still wears his insignia. Leave your brother to his business." Katara could feel Ozai's eyes run over her for a moment more before he put the Fire Whiskey to his lips and drank. He walked away with Ursa, not a backward glance to be spared.
Katara stood rooted to her spot on the floor, focusing on her pounding heart rate. Finally after what felt like hours, but was probably only seconds, Katara turned and searched for more glasses to fill. Before she got too far, she heard the princess speak.
"Well Zuko, that's probably the most excitement that will happen all day."
Katara walked out of range. Her deep steadying breaths did their job, and she returned to filling empty cups without mishap.
Time moved slowly, though she seemed to fill less cups then before. Maybe it was the strength of the brew; the smell itself was enough to give her a small headache and burn her nose if she breathed in too sharp.
She did notice that one man, a noble dressed in silk robes of burnt orange with silver embroidery along all the edges, came to her several times within the hour to have his cup refilled. She watched him stumble back to his friends and laugh loudly, spilling some of the liquid as he went.
Drunkenness was new to Katara. She quickly figured out that the drinks the other servants and herself served were the cause of it when she passed a group of gossiping women. Streaks of grey lined their otherwise black hair.
"It seems the fire whiskey is potent this year," one snorted, "but you know what they say about the harvest every 7th year."
"It kicks every man's bum to the floor," another woman cackled, "and some of the boys as well when they sneak it behind their mother's backs."
"When will they learn to moderate their drinking?"
"You expect men to learn. How preposterous!"
"As long as no fights break out by the temple this year-"
"I agree," the last woman nodded. "They should know when they've had enough and head to bed. Fire whiskey is especially bad for their self-control. Do you remember-?" Katara walked past them, pouring the last of her pitcher into a younger man's cup. He seemed her age, maybe younger; his lopsided smile was amusing as he tried to focus his eyes on the cup.
Katara headed back to the curtain to fetch a new pitcher of the drink. She moved into the quiet of the hall, only then realizing how deafening the crowd's voices had become. She was sure that they had not been this loud to start with. Taking a moment to herself, Katara closed her eyes and set the empty pitcher down. A few breaths were all she got before the curtain swished opened and closed again. The change of volume woke her from her self-imposed break. She turned and saw the man who was out-drinking everyone else at the festival.
"Sir," she called, not quite sure how to deal with an errant guest. "The festivities are back in the main room. I'll be right back to get you another drink. Please go back inside with the other guests. This area is off limits."
Expecting him to follow her request, Katara pulled open the door to the storage room. A hand pressed it shut with a thud, appearing over her shoulder. As she looked up to the same man, now inches from her, she felt his other hand rest on her hip.
"But you're out here," he smiled. She could smell the alcohol on his breath and crinkled her nose in disgust. "I want to be out here with you."
"Sir," Katara began. The man pressed her hips against the door, causing it to rock on its hinges and bang against the frame. With the hand he had slammed the door shut with, he ran his fingers through her hair. He stepped closer, pressing her up against the wall.
"Stop," Katara ordered. She tried to push his hands away and step free of the unwanted embrace. The guest frowned, swayed in place, and moved his hand from her hairline, which hung mostly lose except for the front most pieces which she tied in a small bun in the back. His fingers touched her jaw line; Katara shivered.
"You've been serving me, making me happy all day, my dear," he smiled. "But there's a better way you can serve me." Katara struggled and he caught her hands in his own, pressed their bodies together, and planted his lips over hers. The water tribe girl froze at the new sensation. She tried to force her head back and away from him, but only succeeded in banging it against the door. The taste of fire-whiskey numbed her lips. Her heartbeat pounded in her chest. Pressed up against her, she was sure he could feel the hammering.
The entire length of their bodies touched, her sandwiched between the wall and this older nobleman. He bit her lip and sucked with more force than she thought necessary, but it gave her a chance to call out. The man gripped her wrists tighter and growled, covering her mouth once more. His tongue flicked across her teeth as his hips pressed squarely up against her own.
Then, Katara felt movement near her hip even though his hands were wrapped around her own. Her blue eyes glanced up and down the hallway through the man's black hair, hoping one of the other servants would come out and save her. The jug beside her was empty and there were no puddles to bend in the palace. She screamed into his kiss and felt the hardness against her stomach shift again.
In all her life, Katara could never remember feeling so helpless then these few seemingly unrelated instances when she had been cornered. She would risk bending to get free, but the lack of water made it a useless choice.
What made her situation worse, was that she had no idea what drove this man. Understanding he was drunk was one thing but choosing to press her up against a wall and kiss her was the confusing part. It was a similar situation to when the two guards found her alone in the city at night. The man pulled away from the kiss and stared as best he could with his glazed over eyes at her face. He wore a dopey smile as he spoke.
"Don't scream now. Let's see what you're hiding under here." He pressed her own arm against her mouth, holding it by her wrist, while he moved to untie her sash and the drawstring of her waistband. Katara thrashed at him, finally getting a kick to his shin to connect.
"Bitch," he cursed. He leaned against her to keep her still, his strength only seemed to increase with the injury to his person. Tears pooled in her eyes as she screamed out against her own skin. Then, what the man did made her knees buckle. His hand slipped inside her clothing, under her silk tunic and found the skin of her stomach. She felt him touch the cloth of her undergarments, trying to push them down off her hips. He didn't get far. Brilliant red flames splashed against the tiled floor at his feet. The man leaped up and away, releasing Katara.
"Step away from her," a voice commanded. Katara, without the support the man gave her, crumbled to the floor against the door. She saw the youngest prince step out from behind the curtain fully, still in his bending stance and approached the man. The nobleman was several steps away from her now, standing facing the prince.
Katara watched in a daze.
"Get out," Prince Zuko commanded.
"But my lord."
"Get out. You went after MY servant, against my wishes. You should be grateful I'm letting you leave in one piece." Zuko gave the noble a quick glance, to which the man held a protective hand over the tenting fabric of his pants.
"But my Lord, she isn't even your servant, but Prince Iroh's whor-
"You'd rather cross the Dragon of the West?" Zuko questioned. The nobleman went white and bowed.
"No, no of course not." Fear crept into his voice.
"Now. You are to leave right now. I don't want to see you in the palace EVER again. Do you understand?"
"Yes my Prince," he nodded, bowing as he edged around Zuko and vanished into the main room. His fear seemed to have cooled off his passion, so Zuko had no need to torture the man with stories of his uncle's punishments on the battlefield; instead, he moved to Katara. She still sat where she fell, staring blankly across the hall at the opposite wall.
"Are you ok?" Zuko asked gently. When she did not respond, he asked, "Katara, did he hurt you?" The girl looked up at him, tears staining her cheeks. She could see he feared the worst. What the worst was, she was still clueless.
"I-I don't know..." she muttered more to herself then him. "No… he didn't hurt me. He just scared me." She wiped her tears and sniffled. Zuko watched as she adjusted the waist scarf back to where it was supposed to be. She saw Zuko try and process what she said and fail. She accepted his hand to help stand up.
"Wait one second," he sighed. He stood her next to the wall and entered the storage room. He walked out with a smaller pitcher and poured the liquid into his cup that he had tucked into his belt.
"Drink this," he stated. Katara accepted the liquid and took a sip. The moment the amber drink touched her lips she sputtered and stopped.
"This is fire-whiskey!" She nearly shouted. "I don't want-"
"Just drink it. It will help." Katara had no strength left to fight him and drank the cup's worth in a few swallows. The liquid literally burned her throat and mouth as she drank it. She choked once but handed the cup back empty.
"Good," Zuko nodded, "here, your new task is to follow me and fill my glass only. None of the other serving girls work alone, so you probably shouldn't either. Not after that." Katara nodded, grabbed up the smaller serving container and followed the prince back into the main room. Just before Katara could step through the curtain, Zuko stopped her and looked her up and down.
"What?" Her throat was still raw from the whiskey and her tears. Zuko reached out and adjusted her tunic, smoothing out wrinkles bunched under her waist scarf. She flinched at the contact.
"Easy," he said, drawing back. "I don't want everyone seeing you follow me out from the hall looking so disheveled. I'm not in the mood to give anyone ideas for more gossip." Katara was about to ask him what he meant but stopped when he reached out again and pulled an errant strand of hair from her face. It had fallen out of her bun. The action left both Zuko and Katara staring at his hand and then each other. Zuko reddened, turned around and pulled aside the curtain.
"Let's go." The curtain swished shut, but Katara hesitated. She felt the heat in her cheeks and knew they were flushed like the prince's. The fluttery feeling was back. Taking a calming breath and blinking away the remaining moisture gathered in her eyes, she followed after Zuko.
They walked through the room, stopping every now and again when nobles and other visitors stopped Zuko to talk. Katara filled Zuko's cup and waited a few steps behind him. He motioned for her to fill another's cup only once. It was much easier to pay attention to only him as opposed to the whole room. Though, the room had emptied out since she vanished. After talking with a handful of people, Zuko moved to the main door and walked down the hallway. Katara noticed the other servers nearby watching her follow after him.
While she continued to keep pace with him outside, Katara thought about what Zuko had done for her. The nobleman who had cornered her had kissed her; she knew that much. It was something her parents had done, and GranGran had given her kisses before she fell asleep each night, though on the forehead and never as rough. Refraining from touching her lips, Katara focused on the back of the prince's head as they wandered through the crowd.
Katara noticed that most of the crowds from inside were now out here. Above, paper lanterns glowed even in the sunlight. Children raced between a sea of adults, laughing. Scents of food filled the air. A spiced drink stand that they passed made Katara wonder how many beverages could be made with alcohol. The liquid she had sampled still left her throat sore, though now she could feel a tingling in her lips and forearms. It wasn't unpleasant, just strange.
It brought her mind back to her unsolved question. Why had he done it? What had the man been trying to accomplish with his actions. She certainly didn't feel the need to rush someone in the street after drinking the cup of the same stuff. His motives had to lie outside the drink, maybe even before the drink, but it was still a mystery to her. The prince had stopped him before anything could happen. Katara nearly bumped into said prince when he stopped in the middle of the street.
"Katara," he stated, holding out his cup. She dutifully filled it with fire-whiskey and proceeded to fill the cup of the man he spoke with at the prince's direction. She wondered how he could enjoy drinking the vile liquid. She mused absentmindedly if she would have liked the tea-wine better.
Zuko seemed to know the older man from somewhere, since their conversation was deeper than the festival and the weather or his grandfather's health. She zoned out again, watching the citizens of the Fire Nation enjoy their festival.
Most of the food was familiar to her, though anything with too much heat she was not found of. Further down the road, a great 'fountain' of a fire bender stood; flames constantly poured from his feet, one lifted in a kick and the other planted.
Katara pushed her hair from her shoulders, wiping at the sweat forming on her brow. The summer solstice was typically the hottest day of the year. The sun had been steadily heading down in the sky since the siblings' performance, but it was still early.
For the rest of the day, Katara followed Zuko, constantly keeping his cup full as he ran into people. The fact that he knew a lot of people should not have surprised her, but after a while it became apparent that they were mostly just seeking him out. Several noblemen with their wives and daughters in tow spoke with him.
Katara would have found it humorous if she had not noticed Zuko begin to sway even when he tried to stand still. After a while, she noticed his words slurred together when he spoke too quickly. The prince developed a habit of running his fingers through his hair; he had since pulled it free of its tie. Katara shortly realized it was the drink making him act like this, but she could not deny him. She was thankful when he turned back towards the palace as the sun fell to the horizon in the sky.
The walk back to the palace was long. The fact that the prince and half the other people in the streets were swaying back and forth as they walked, even stumbling, was no help. The prince said something which Katara could not hear over the noise of the crowd, but it did not seem to matter. His eyes were fixed on a pair of women ahead of him. They walked arm-in-arm, giggling, and turned a corner. Katara wondered what he said for only a moment until he held out his cup once more.
"That's the last of it, Prince Zuko," she said, showing him the empty pitcher once his cup was filled most of the way up. She noticed his eyes were unfocused and bloodshot as he looked down at her. She could smell the whiskey on his breath when he breathed out and tried her best not to flinch.
The memory was too recent, too raw, but not complete. Without the knowledge of the man's intentions, she wasn't quite sure how she should act about it. Fearful? But of what? Men? But Zuko had saved her and he was a man. She felt cautious mostly. The crowd thinned.
A glance to her right almost stopped her in her tracks. Between two buildings in an alleyway were a man and a woman. The man had his hands under the woman's tunic, her brown sash rumpled on the ground at her feet. The man kissed her on the lips, pressing his body close. Katara could not look away and wished the prince would walk slower, but he seemed to have found his stride. Katara then noticed the woman wore an open-mouthed smile. Her head titled back to rest against the brick building at her back and his hands laced through her hair. The man began to undo his pants but her and Zuko turned the corner and the scene was gone.
Katara's heart raced in excitement. What she had just seen was so similar to what happened to her. Now she was even more curious. The woman seemed to be enjoying herself if Katara had seen correctly. Was she supposed to be smiling, her head tipped back and her eyes closed? Was that the correct response to a man's embrace in that situation? She saw the man's hands originally disappear under the women's dress and wondered why. Though the biggest question was when he moved to loosen his own pants. Why would he need to take off his pants?
She thought to herself about what she knew of boys and men. It was not much. The girl knew they could not bear children, thus didn't bleed. That whole concept still intrigued her since Shiyu would not elaborate, saying it was for another night.
She knew they were unusually sensitive if they got hit between the legs. She could still recall the time she dropped what she had thought was a snowball in her father's lap back the South Pole, but it had been a large chunk of ice. She had laughed at his pain, not knowing any better.
She didn't know anything else that would be so glaring that she would miss it. She had never changed diapers with GranGran at the Zu household, never accompanied her father and brother to the steam huts in the South Pole, or even seen a man without his pants at the Arena to know what she was missing. Katara was pulled from her thoughts as Zuko tripped on the first step up to the palace. There were only five steps. He caught himself, miraculously not spilling any of the remaining whiskey he still held in his cup. Katara helped him sit down to catch his breath.
The prince's face was flushed red and his normally alert eyes had trouble focusing on her. Katara watched as he brought the cup to his lips, drank a sip and then spilled a good deal down his chin and onto his outfit. The girl looked around for advice or help on how to deal with him in his current state, but everyone else seemed to still be back in the town's center by the flaming statue where loud laughter and dancing filled the streets.
A firework exploded in the air, both Zuko and Katara jumped. The sky had only begun to fade to dark blue, bidding the sun goodnight and the moon to rise. For all her time in the Fire Nation, Katara had never seen a firework or been to a festival. Shiyu was always gone on days like this. Now she knew why. She had not known they existed with the Zus since he had not taken her and GranGran to anything other than the Arena.
While living with Shiyu though, Katara heard fireworks going off for the first time. Shiyu explained they were made with exploding packets of blasting jelly mixed with color and fire powder. Katara smiled when another one burst into the air. Her rest was short lived; the prince struggled to stand. She rushed to his side before he could tumble and helped him get inside.
Katara quickly figured out she could not carry both the empty pitcher and support the drunken prince. Making a decision, she set the serving pitcher near a wall, hoping no one would trip over it and walked Zuko back to his room. With her arm wrapped around his waist and his own slung over her shoulders, Katara tried her best to get him to his room without incident.
It wasn't easy; the prince tripped over his own feet several times, but Katara managed to keep him upright. With one hallway to go, Zuko began talking.
"I need to go to The Spitfire," he slurred. "We're going the wrong way." Katara knew there was no way he was going anywhere in his condition. She wondered where he had gotten the notion of going to that place and sincerely hoped sleep would cure him.
"We're going back to your room Prince Zuko," Katara said. "You spilled fire whiskey on your clothing and need to go to bed."
"That was good fire whiskey," the prince laughed. "It must have been a hot year. Are we at The Spitfire already?" Zuko reached for the door Katara led him to and walked inside without her help. His footsteps were heavy, but he made it to the bed. He stood with his back to her for a moment, one hand gripping the bedpost for support, the other on the comforter. Katara wondered if the effects were wearing off like it had for her after a short while.
Though, her words had never begun to slur and her balance had not been affected. She turned her back to him and shut the door to the room. Before she could turn, Katara felt him embrace her from behind, hands fisting in the loose fabric over her breasts.
"Zuko?" Katara asked, her voice an octave too high. She felt his body pressed up against her own. His hips rocked against her bottom.
"What are you do-ing!?" She asked, just as the prince scoped her up and tossed her onto his bed, where he proceeded to cover her with his body. He surprised her by covering her lips with his own.
To Katara, it seemed he was trying to sate some unreal hunger through his kiss. She felt his hands glide over her breasts and down her waist to her hips. The most unusual sensation came over her as her body jumped of its own accord.
With their bodies touching, Katara felt a similar sensation against her thigh as she did with the nobleman in the hall. The prince pushed up the fabric to her tunic and pulled the waistband of her pants down over her hips, all without releasing her from the kiss. The cool air against her thighs made Katara push him away. Her lower lip felt puffy from his last bite.
"Whatever you're doing Zuko-," Katara began to say, trying to push him off.
"It is not a servant's role to question her master," the prince echoed with a grin. Katara frowned, but it did not seem to bother him. He captured her lips again, deepening the kiss as she gasped.
She felt her pants gather at her ankles, and Zuko stepped in-between her knees. The cool air had since sent her skin flush with goose bumps. She could feel him between her thighs, rocking against her center. The warm solid mass she felt before seemed to be larger now, but what it was was still a mystery. Her body seemed to hum in anticipation.
Katara was more excited than nervous now; she wanted to know what the next part of whatever he was doing was. While her heart raced, Katara did not feel the fear she felt in the hallway. This was different. She just wished he would tell her what he was doing. Zuko freed her lips and moved down her neck. One hand found a breast and gave it a firm squeeze. Katara saw stars as he ran his fingertip over its peak, arching her back without meaning to.
"What did you do?" the girl breathed. Her body was reacting in such new ways that any and all of her fear had taken a backseat. She was only afraid of what the prince would do when he was angry. She had been given no other reasons to be fearful of him in his other moods.
Katara heard the sound of fabric rustling and falling but could not see what the sound belonged to. Her focus flew to the prince as his hand moved to the undergarments she wore. She squirmed, sending her hips away from his hand, but rubbing against him in the process. Zuko groaned and bit down hard enough on her neck to make Katara flinch.
His movements to undress her completely made her begin to reconsider her trust. She could clearly remember her mother, father, and grandmother all telling her then she was little that some parts of her body were only for her. As long as they were covered, like her breasts in their bindings that morning, Katara had no reason to feel nervous. But the youngest prince made a move to reveal one of those areas, and Katara would have none of that.
"Don't!" She ordered as his hand tugged at the edge of the fabric.
"Zuko stop," Katara said again. "Tell me what you want. I've never-" The words seemed to work like magic. Their skin to skin contact was gone immediately. Katara breathed a single sigh of relief and shut her eyes for a moment. She heard Zuko stumble to his drawers, open and pull something out. When she opened her eyes, Katara saw the door to the room swing closed. The prince was gone, leaving Katara more than confused.
The water tribe girl sat up on the bed, feeling strangely tense. She noticed an unusual moistness between her legs. Why had he suddenly stopped? Had she reacted wrong? The girl just wanted to know what he planned to do. She had no previous experience to draw on, no one to gossip about the task with, or no one to walk in on to find out. The fact was plain that she was unknowledgeable about whatever Zuko had been about to do. It was obvious to her now that many people knew about whatever this was, and it seemed to be common knowledge. Knowledge that she did not have.
Katara leaned back on Zuko's bed and waited for him to return. She would get the answer out of him even if it killed her.
...
Katara woke up the next morning from dreams of flaming oceans. The two elemental forces were evenly matched even as the ocean rolled and foamed. She was not quite sure what to make of it; her mother had been the one to tell her what her dreams and nightmares meant. It had not been a special power, just a good sense of intuition. She felt her eyes water at the memory and touched the blue choker at her neck. Katara wished more than ever that her mother was here to explain what was going on.
She quickly looked to the bed around her and found it once again un-slept in by the prince. She was slightly embarrassed that she had fallen asleep in it. The girl frowned. Standing in a single swift movement, Katara walked into the bathroom and got to work on her morning routine. While changing, she caught sight of herself in the reflecting glass in the corner.
Before coming to the Fire Nation, Katara had never seen such a clear mirror. They had little ones in the South Pole, but they were typically foggy or warped from the extreme temperature changes. This full-length mirror stood against the far corner, sandwiched between two large plants in bronze pots. The Water Tribe girl stood naked before it in the beam of light provided by the eastern facing window opening.
Katara was not sure how she felt looking at herself without her clothing on. It was something she never thought to do, but after last night, she was curious what someone else would see. She ran her hands down her sides, following the curve in her waist down to her hip bones just as the prince had done.
Just the memory of the stirrings he evoked gave her more goose bumps then the cool morning air. The sheer curtains behind her ruffled in the breeze, startling her for moment. When she turned back to the mirror, she spotted the mark on her neck. It looked like a bruise, but if she looked hard enough, Katara was sure she could make out teeth imprints. She touched it, turning her neck to see the mark better. This must be where he bit me.
Finally, Katara turned her attention to the source of her confusion with last night's events. Unless it was her moon time, Katara never really gave this part of her body any attention out of the ordinary. It was confusing to her why anyone would want to see it.
As she stood staring at herself, Katara wondered when the prince would be back. These questions about his actions burned hotter than any flame, and she would have them answered.
She dressed and moved to the main room, picking up Zuko's discarded clothing from yesterday. The pieces still smelled of fire whiskey, so she gathered them with the other washing she did not have time to do before and proceeded to the courtyard.
The palace had fallen back into its typical routine. No longer were normal citizens seen in the hallways and servants were back to their usual tasks. The day passed without event.
Zuko did not return to his room.
The next morning, Katara allowed herself to worry. The prince still had not returned. She wondered if he had gotten hurt playing Blue Spirit while drunk and was dying on the streets from his refusal to seek medical attention. Shaking her head, she remembered only three days had passed since the last arena fights, there were a total of six days between them. She considered that he may just be avoiding the room, but she knew not why. Either way, there was nothing she could do, so she curled up near the window with one of her books.
Near noon, just before Katara was ready to get lunch, there was a knock on the door. She sat up and waited for it to open. The person knocked again, this time with more force.
"Prince Zuko? There is an urgent message from the warfront about your uncle and cousin. Prince Zuko? Are you in there?" Katara sat ramrod straight, holding herself back from answering the door. She doubted the messenger would even give her the message, but she wanted to know what it said. Her mind was made up for her when the footsteps disappeared in a hurry down the hall. Katara did not know when Zuko would return to the room anyway; it was probably best the man try to find the prince himself.
But now, as she walked to the kitchen to get lunch, she worried for Iroh and Lu Ten. An urgent message could never be good, or else the whole city would know by now and be celebrating some major victory. As much as she was completely against this war that had torn apart her family and stolen her to this foreign land, she did not want the two princes to die. They had both been good to her in their own ways.
She decided to send a prayer to Tui and La when she returned to the room to keep them safe and guide them. It did not occur to her that others may have thought praying to the moon and ocean spirits for a pair of firebenders was crazy, but to Katara, Iroh and Lu Ten needed what the spirits represented other than the moon and ocean: protection and safe travels. She ate and returned to the room.
The rest of the day, Katara practiced her waterbending in the bathroom. No one knocked on the door again looking for the youngest prince, so Katara assumed he was in the palace somewhere and they had found him. He did not return again that night.
The next morning, Katara decided enough was enough. She dressed in the comfiest of her serving outfits, though the pants and tunic were due for a wash and left the room in search of the prince.
(Original Author's Note) I apologize for the long wait on this chapter. I was out of town this weekend without a way to post it. I do hope that it's good enough and long enough for everyone to make up for the wait.
Zuko and Azula's firebending 'dance' is probably my favorite scene so far. Just in case anyone wants to know. :)
*The chapter title comes from "What do You Want from Me" by Cascada*