Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar: The Last Airbender or anything pertaining to it.

Ethereal

Chapter 2: The Southeastern Aurora

"When the Dragon first laid eyes upon the maiden, all He was captivated by her hair that seemed to mirror the light of His father, the Sun. He vowed to make her His, and upon doing so, the first Descendant of the Dragon was born. His hair was black as night, and his eyes were gold like the Dragon. And so the Sun was so delighted, He entrusted the throne of the Firelands to the Descendant of the Dragon." The Creation, Chapter 14:12-15.

The young siren found herself sitting on a cold, metal slab inside of the ship belonging to the Dragon Prince. A man had his arms folded and was speaking with the prince about something about healing, and some other things that Katara found herself uninterested in. Legs. She had legs. Granted, there were still patches of slightly grey scales on her otherwise bronzed legs from the transition, but nonetheless, they were legs. She didn't quite understand; she had never heard of any siren being able to go on land with legs.

Finally, the prince sighed a bit and walked out of the room, mumbling something about incompetence. Katara tried to stand to follow him, but her legs felt like jelly and she collapsed onto the ground with a thud. The man who was speaking to the prince turned around and grabbed her by her bound arms, jerking her upwards and placing her back on the metal slab.

"Foolish girl, you can't even walk," he sneered; his words were slurred and his accent wasn't nearly as refined as the prince's or his uncle's. It sounded like his vowels were drawn out and the ends of words seemed to drop off when he spoke. It could have been his dialect, but part of Katara assumed him to be a little drunk. "Now, let me get a look at your wounds from the glass."

His hands were large, clumsy, and slightly rough, and it seemed like it took a lifetime for him to pull the bandages around her arms off. When he finally managed to accomplish the task, he noticed, to both his and Katara's surprise, the cuts had vanished and thin, faint white lines remained in their stead. The medic scratched his right cheek with his left hand, seeming to be deep in thought. "Seems you heal quick, girl," he said. "The king'll be real interested to hear about that." He dipped his brush in some ink, then made a few notes in a book.

Katara looked down at her legs; she felt like some kind of exhibit and was suddenly very conscious of the fact she was nearly naked. The clothing she was wearing from the Maizuru tavern owner's daughter was large; it was also itchy, and hung off her body much like an empty burlap sack would. She crossed her arms over her chest and bit her lower lip to keep from tearing up, reaching to touch her neckl–

The siren looked around quickly on the ground, grasping at her neck to make sure she wasn't hallucinating. Her necklace was gone. Panic took over her body and she moved quickly off the slab, trying to see if she could find someone who may have seen it. However, no matter how much she wanted to, her legs were not ready. She collapsed again to the floor and the medic whipped around to see her on her hands and knees. She was trying to push herself up, but her arms gave out beneath her too.

"You stupid, freaki–" he began to curse.

"That's enough coarse language from you, Mr. Cho," the General interrupted quickly. "I think some fresh air and hot tea is in order for the lady."

Cho nodded a bit, and reached down to help Katara up. The siren looked at him, her eyes almost black, and hissed at him as he backed away suddenly. She crawled on her hands and knees to the wall and began trying to pull herself up when the General stepped over and put a supportive arm around her waist. She turned to give him a good glimpse of her dark nature but he touched her arm gently.

"It's alright; I mean you no harm. I only want to help you walk. Is that okay?"

Katara nodded a bit, extending her arm out towards the wall for support as she tried to pull herself along. "Outside?" she asked, her voice a bit strained and weak.

The General nodded. "Yes, we're going outside."

She hobbled along the inside corridors of the ship, noticing the superior quality between this one and the previous ship she had been transported on. This one was lit by torches every few feet on both sides of the hallways; the doors were heavy and metal, and long banners displaying the Dragon Court's emblem hung down between the torches. Placards were immediately to the left of doors, and had writing on them; Katara assumed they would translate to the name of the room on the ship but she was unable to read the intricate characters decorating said signs.

When they finally reached the stairs leading to outside, the siren felt even more fatigued than she had when she woke up in the village after falling out of her tank. The General noticed her exhaustion and motioned for her to sit down if she wanted. "We can rest here if you like."

Katara shook her head. "No, there. I fancy to be there."

"Alright," he said cautiously, helping her up the stairs slowly. Katara imagined that this was what it was like to teach a baby to walk; only she was nearly grown, and she was tall and heavy and old compared to a baby. Her legs finally gave way halfway through the stairs. "You will get stronger."

The siren looked outside longingly; she was so close to the ocean. If only she could walk, no – run. She could run to the edge of the ship and fall into the water and swim home. She had never longed so desperately for the cold waters of the Glacierlands and the colorful schools of fish that would pass through her room while migrating north.

"My name is Iroh," he said gently to her. The siren's cerulean eyes flickered back to the older man and she tilted her head, slightly confused. "A lot of people call me General, but you can just call me Iroh," he explained. She nodded a bit in understanding and he asked, "What is your name?"

"My given name is Katara," she said slowly. She had to think every time she spoke, because while she knew the common language, it was not her primary language. All sirens spoke the common language and some knew a few dialects, but those who did not interact and trade with those living at the Glacierland villages often did not gain a lot of confidence in the language. Katara admittedly was one of those sirens who remained secluded; she rarely spoke with others, and therefore the way she spoke the common language was rather archaic.

He smiled a bit. "So you speak the ancient language, correct? It's a beautiful language, though rather challenging. I wish I could have studied it in my younger days, perhaps I could converse with you. My nephew studied it briefly; he's not by any means fluent, and really I don't think anyone is, but he understands basic words, I think."

"Your nephew?" Katara still touched her bare neck, unadjusted to the feeling of her necklace not being there. "He is a Descendant of the Dragon; one supposes that you too are born of the Dragon as well?"

"According to legend, but no one really pays much mind to those anymore," he explained. "It is tradition to study The Creation and believe in the Gods, but more people consider it more of a story of morals to live by, not necessarily facts."

She tilted her head a bit, "That appears rather... in jest. How can His Highness only select certain parts to practice?"

Iroh rubbed his beard a bit, thinking of how he could explain. "It's hard to explain," he admitted. "I suppose the difficulty comes with the inability for most of us to read the ancient texts. None of them were translated into our vernacular." After a moment he rose to his feet and looked at the young girl again. "Do you think you have the strength to make it to the deck? It's only a short walk. Then we'll have some tea."

The siren looked at the sky a bit longingly; oh, to be wrapped in the delicate light of her mother the Moon. Whenever Katara was afraid, she would swim to surface to let the gentle moonlight cover her like a warm blanket in the brisk wind. "I shall undergo it," she reached for the steel railing to the side of the stairs and used it to help pull herself up. The older man offered his hand to help her walk outside.

When she finally took a gulp of air from outside, it rushed into her throat and tickled her lungs. It felt like she hadn't breathed truly fresh air in seasons.

Later that night, she practiced walking around the deck, frequently stumbling as some of the rough waves would slam into the ship or if an especially strong gust would come through. She typically hugged the walls and railing for support, still unconfident in the ability of her newly acquired, or rather newly made present, legs.

Katara found herself to be more of a night person than any of the Volcanic Islanders. It was just before dawn when she had finally fallen asleep, and it was well after lunch when she stirred. Part of her was hoping it was just a dream when she heard the crash of the waves and the salty air tickled her nose, but it was too warm. When her eyelids flickered open, she sat up a bit, propping herself on her elbows and forearms. Her blue eyes scanned the dimly lit walls of her surroundings, which were decorated with tapestries containing the Dragon Court's insignia sewn into them. Katara sank back down into the bed in realization she was still imprisoned, releasing a breath of frustration.

The door opened slightly, and Katara turned her head to look at the opening. The contrast between the dark quarters she was in and the somewhat better lit hallway made it hard for her eyes to adjust, and she couldn't recognize who it was until she caught the amber eyes she had seen before. His eyes ran along the outline of her figure in the bed, then the figure moved to close the door behind him.

"Pardon," she called out in the common language. The door was still slightly ajar, though she could no longer see him. Hurry, she reminded herself, before he changes his mind. "Does his lordship know the hour?" He muttered something irritably and slammed the door shut. The siren sighed in aggravation and covered her face with her hands. Clearly, the people of the Dragon had no manners whatsoever.

A few moments later, a knock came on the door and it opened. Iroh stood in the frame and walked over towards her, offering his hand to her. "My lady, would you care to take lunch with me? It is quite pleasant on the deck today." The siren nodded a bit, then tried to move from the bed. "Slow and steady," he cautioned.

"I thank you," she said as she accepted his assistance in moving from the bed towards the doorway. "Pray tell if I may inquire as to why your nephew is so abrupt?"

"Ah, Prince Zuko is a complicated man. He seems to have remembered a bit of his studies from the ancient language, however. Perhaps I can get him to take his evening tea with us, and you can practice conversing with him." Iroh suggested.

Katara pondered the thought for a moment. "Do you believe your lordship can tutor me in the modern form of the common tongue? And the written word?" The siren looked at the older man hopefully.

"I will see if there's something we can do, but I can't promise anything. Now, please, enjoy some tea. This is one of my favorite teas; it's white peach and ginger — native only to the Volcanic Islands!"

Unlike the short days and long nights of the Glacierlands, it took several hours for night to come by. Nonetheless, Katara had passed as much time as she could on the deck of the ship, adjusting to the rareness of sitting in direct sunlight. Occasionally, it grew to be too much and she would stumble, or crawl, back inside until she was prepared to brave the sun again. She would grip the railing of the ship and practice walking while the older man would hold her hand; she concluded it was half concern for her injuring herself, and the other half was concern of her dropping into the ocean and losing the treasure he was bringing to his king.

When Katara would hide inside the passages of the ship, Iroh would read the signs to her, and show her the stroke order with his index finger. "Work your way from top to bottom, outside to inside, left to right," he instructed, watching as her clumsy fingers tried to mimic the patters. At the end of the day, she could trace "fire," "water," and half the character for "kitchen."

"Your writing system is vast," she whined a bit. "It would take one nearly a lifetime to be able to memorize everything."

"You will learn with practice," he assured her. "It is almost time for dinner now. Let's dine with my nephew on the deck." Katara, still gripping the railing inside the ship, slowly walked towards the deck. She was fairly certain he would be strongly opposed to the idea. The crew in its entirety seemed to avoid Katara; half of them looked at her with fear, and the other with lust. And while she couldn't decide which of those was worst, it didn't take long for her to realize that the prince avoided her like a leper. He had no intentions of being around her if he could help it.

Still, it would appear Iroh was much more persuasive than Katara could have ever imagined (something to do with threats of tea five times a day plus pai sho games instead of just tea twice a day) because the prince was sitting across from Katara later that evening for dinner, albeit quite unhappy.

While Katara had originally thought the intricate writing system of the humans was a trifling feat, she was nowhere prepared for this unusually set of two slender rods called "chopsticks." The prince rolled his eyes as he watched her try to use them with both hands before he held his right hand up as an example. The siren tried to imitate the posture and attempted to pick up the crescent-shaped dumpling with her dining tool, but it took a good six or seven attempts before it finally stayed in the chopsticks... then fell back into the small bowl.

"Oh for the love of," the impatient prince mumbled, grabbing the chopsticks from her hands, picking up the dumpling, and holding it to her mouth. Katara looked at him hesitantly, slightly offended for his patronizing behavior. "If you're not going to let me help you then I guess you'll just starve."

"Prince Zuko, be polite," Iroh chided gently, then nodded at Katara. Go ahead, he seemed to say to her, and she opened her mouth partially, going to take a small bite.

"No, eat the whole thing," the prince shook his head at her. Katara opened her mouth a bit wider and took the entire dumpling in her mouth. It was warm, slightly spicy, and mildly salty. He dropped her chopsticks back in the bowl, then returned to his dinner as Katara wiped the corner of her mouth with her fingers. She reached to take a sip of water from the cup.

Iroh cleared his throat through the awkward silence, "My Lady Katara, it would do me a great honor to hear a story from the Glacierlands; the people from the poles do not much trade with the Volcanic Islanders, so much of their stories and traditions are not familiar with us," he explained. "Especially one from the sirens."

She looked up at the sky a bit, as a pattern of rainbow colors began to dance across the sky. The Southeastern Aurora. She waved an open palm over it, first beginning to tell the story as she had done so many times before in her native language, then pausing. Common language, Katara scolded herself. She cleared her throat, still looking at the sky, and began, "Once, before the Planet had seasons, there lived young hunter, son of a great chief. He was the most handsome man in all the south, and had been asked by many fathers to become betrothed to their daughters; however, he did not find one he found suitable. His mother prayed to the Moon, desperate for him to find a spouse, as she feared he would be remain unwed.

"The Moon adored this family, as they hailed from the Southeastern Glaciers, and the mother had always made great prayers and sacrifices to the Moon, so She asked Her husband the Sun if he would spare one of His beautiful Daughters of the Dragon. The Sun agreed and appeared before His granddaughter, telling her she was to become the wife of the great hunter of the Southeast. She traveled to find him, and when she did, the hunter instantly fell in love with her unmatchable grace.

"However, the other women of the village soon became consumed by avarice. They did not want the granddaughter of a God to have him. So they devised plots against her and passed a note in forged hand, requesting for her to meet on the far Northerwestern islands and bestowed a bewitched compass that would lead someone as far away from whatsoever the heart desired as one could be. Alack, upon her arrival on the isle, she quickly realized she had been deceived by the girls and was lost.

"She prayed to her grandfather the Sun and His wife asking for a way to help her return to her beloved. He and His wife the Moon turned the granddaughter and the hunter into two spirits, that when reunited, would illuminate the sky in the Southeast and Northwest to help travelers return home to their lovers."

Zuko had long since set his bowl down and was reclined back against the railing of the ship, his arms crossed as he looked up at the sky and watched the colorful lights move through the sky like waves. Katara smiled a bit, thinking of the story. How she longed for a lover like that.

"Your usage of colloquial speech is improving at an unexpected rate, Lady Katara; soon you will be commanding the language better than I. Regardless, that's a beautiful story for the lights. I would much like to hear more of your tales," Iroh smiled. "Don't you think so, Zuko? And perhaps she can practice speaking the ancient language with you; your father would be pleased to know that you haven't forgotten all your studies from the Royal Dragon Academy for Boys."

The young male shrugged a bit, turning his head away to look at the lights a bit, to which Katara looked at him curiously. She didn't understand this concept of moving ones shoulders to convey a message; she opened her mouth to ask when Zuko quickly replied, "I have the siren he wanted. I'm sure that'll impress him more than being able to speak a useless language," he scoffed. "Especially to tell a bunch of silly stories about lights and lovers." Katara sighed a bit and looked down.

Later that night, Katara was still sitting on the deck of the ship. Her hands were tied since she was neither in her room, nor monitored by the General. She wondered what her brother was doing; was he eating all the sea prunes in the area? Or perhaps the seals? She was sure he was probably throwing a fit since she was gone. And her father...what was he doing? And what of Adine, or Bing Xue, or even the young children she tutored? She wanted to read The Creation and give thanks to the Moon, and pray to her mother, and...

"Why are you being so agreeable? Aren't you sirens supposed to be deadly, especially at night?" The voice was male, but it didn't belong to Iroh. The prince looked down at her. "You try to learn our writing, and learn how we speak our language, and eat our dinners, and listen to our folklore. I don't understand it."

The siren looked out to sea. "I have a story for this as well, but, I have already surmised you have no interest in it," she said. Silence. She took that to mean affirmation, then continued. "In the veins of a siren runs water; we are half of water, half of moon. Water is an element of adaption; if a path is blocked, water will create a new one."

"You're foolish if you think that will save you," he said softly. "They're going to tear you apart." Katara suddenly realized he was afraid, but of something entirely different.

Posted: 04/17/2012

A/N: A bit longer chapter, but thank you for your patience; I'm sorry it has taken me so long to get some actual Zutara interaction going on. I appreciate all the reviews and comments I have received; I will do my best to answer specific questions as they come about the story, mythology or even myself, I'd be happy to answer it. Thanks for your support, guys. It will be a bit longer for my next update, but to sweeten the pot, I promise even more Zutara interaction next chapter. In addition, keep your eyes peeled; it will be a bit before I release my next fic, but there is a new one coming out soon based on Legend of Korra. I hope to get it up and running by May at the latest.