A dark figure emerged from the shadows of the walls surrounding the Caldera Prison. He was adorned in a crimson cloak and was walking slowly with his head bowed low, veiled in the gloom of the night. Noiselessly, he passed through the gates of the prison, then stopped to lift his head and look up at the concrete monster that was built on the flank of a dormant volcano.

The intense glow of his golden eyes was dimmed by the dark bag under one of his eyes—the scar around his other eye didn't allow for such actions—and his hair underneath the hood of his cloak was disheveled from tossing and turning on his bed. He scanned the rectangular openings on the curved wall of the prison, trying to figure out which one of them his uncle was residing in.

Just then, a guard patrolling on one of the balconies that spiraled around the building spotted him.

"Who's there!" the guard shouted, but the phantom man wordlessly turned around and disappeared into the shadows once more.

-o-

Perhaps it was outrageous, maybe even a little insane, but Katara found a sense of freedom and release in the sea she gazed out at through the barred windows, glistening like liquid fire in the horizon under the dawning sun. It calmed her, soothed her nerves. And it invaded her mind with images of Water Tribe bannered canoes sailing those waters, with their blue sails flapping in the wind and her friends, family, and warriors of her tribe aboard, all of them armed to the teeth and ready for battle.

Did they know where she was? What had become of her? Who she'd been forced to serve?

Did they know she was alive, even if barely?

"Mikai!"

Katara snapped out of her thoughts with a gasp. She was back in the main hall of the gilded cages that were the Royal Harem, holding a tray of gruel and spices for seasoning, no longer a waterbender or even a human—just another slave to the Fire Lord and everyone else in his and his son's joint harem quarters, existing solely to be exploited.

She looked around, gaze disoriented, and caught the angry eyes of Ayuki scowling at her from a few steps away. And in front of Katara was a small group of girls kneeling on crimson cushions around a low table and a lady-in-waiting standing behind them, all of them looking at her confusedly. She'd been serving breakfast to them before zoning out. She just hoped she hadn't been out for too long.

"Mikai!" Ayuki yelled again. "Did I say you could take a break?! Get back to work!"

Katara curtsied hastily to the maid and the girls, still a bit shaken up from her unexpected trip down memory lane. This was the exact reason she'd banned herself from thinking of that night or her family long ago.

As she moved on to the next table in line, the delicate rays of the dawning sun poured in from barred windows, lighting up the vast hall in an ethereal glow. Loads of other slaves were hustling all around her to serve breakfast to the remaining rows of tables laid out in the hall.

Katara curtsied to another group of girls, then silently placed several of the plates atop her tray before them while they continued their conversation about fashion as if she was just some fly buzzing around them—definitely noticeable, but annoying and not worth paying attention to.

She would've burst a blood vessel over being treated like this had she been anything like her previous self—steadfast and defiant till her last breath. But she truly couldn't care less what these people thought of her anymore.

That kind, proud girl she'd grown up to be was dead. The Fire Nation had killed her. Like they'd killed her mother.

So Katara kept her mouth shut as she set the spices on the table, not that she was allowed to speak to them unless spoken to, or look anyone in the eye. But she didn't mind. She liked working in silence.

For all of its hardship and cruelty, this was one thing she didn't entirely loathe about the harem. Having just come out of a two-month-long solitary confinement, she didn't want anything to do with people, really. It just felt… odd to constantly be surrounded by people, and even odder to be speaking to them. There was just something about having more than just the icy chill of her dark, lonely prison cell and her bleakest thoughts accompanying her that made her uneasy.

Her cell had always been quiet, and she'd always been alone, even with the guards constantly monitoring her. If she was honest with herself, she missed the silence, the eerie tranquility.

Shaking herself out of her thoughts, Katara finished pouring tea for the girls and curtsied again. While she was making her way to the next table, her stomach grumbled loudly. She was no stranger to starving, so she was able to stay composed against the more than inviting smell of gruel she'd been carrying around all morning, but spirits did she want to stuff her mouth with it, consequences be damned. And there was that one part of her, the ghost of her past bullheadedness, that kept reminding her she had to survive off the leftovers of the maids and had to consider herself lucky if she scored a mostly-eaten bread and maybe some uncooked potatoes on the side.

Of course, she didn't do it. She never would. She didn't complain either—couldn't, for her escape plan's sake. No matter how unfair the world was, no matter how she was forced to work day and night on just a few hours of sleep, how much the maids beat her during harem etiquette lessons in the name of correcting her technique, or how many times they insulted her and her heritage, she couldn't stand up for herself. And that, perhaps, was what hurt her the most.

She would get her revenge, though. Toph could bend metal now, or so Aang had claimed right before he'd been shot. On the day of the invasion, she could simply bend Katara's collar off, and that'd be it. Then, Katara would bring this palace down on everyone that had wronged her. She would wipe them all out, and wouldn't bat an eye doing it.

A stoic expression plastered to her features, hiding the deadly storm that raged underneath, Katara stopped at the next table where three young women chatted with one another. She curtsied and bent down to place some of the plates on the table, her whole body aching from exhaustion, hunger and the beatings she'd taken especially to the arms.

"What's this?!" the girl in the middle exclaimed as she was setting down the third plate, "How many times do I have to tell you damned peasants I don't eat gruel! Go get me something else!"

Katara bowed her head lower and huffed lightly through her nose. True, she gave no mind to all the names these ashmakers called her, but it still hurt her pride to have to obey them. But she had no other choice—she was playing for the long run, and all of this humility would be worth it in the end when the time came for her to escape.

"My apologies, miss," she replied politely and picked up the plates, "I will be back with another dish at once."

She curtsied and turned to leave, but the same voice stopped her.

"Hold on a second…"

Katara turned back around to the trio, waiting wearily for another ridiculous order no doubt. To her surprise, she heard the girl snicker instead.

"You're the savage from the Water Tribes, aren't you?" The mirth in her tone was clear as day. "I'd heard you'd arrived. Mikai, is it? It's such an honor to officially make your acquaintance."

The other girls at the table giggled behind their hands. Only for a moment, Katara lifted her head to glance at the girl that was doing the talking. She was a lot older than her, probably in her early 20s, and was tall, slender and her skin was almost as pale as the marble floors—common traits Katara had found most Fire Nation nobility shared. Her chestnut hair and brown eyes were practically glowing in the sunlight, and her lips, painted red, were twisted up in a smirk.

"Likewise, ma'am," Katara replied calmly, wishing the girl would just stop talking and let her go on with her work.

"I heard you're the waterbending master of the Avatar. Or were, I guess I should say," the girl continued amusedly. "You know, I've never seen waterbending in real life. We'd love a demonstration. Isn't that right, girls?"

Her friends nodded enthusiastically while Katara gritted her teeth, her eyes still glued to her tray. Thankfully, the placid expression she'd donned didn't betray her growing anger. She could let all the insults on her humanity slide, but she drew the line at her waterbending, or lack thereof.

Yet, somehow, she maintained her composure.

"I can't waterbend, ma'am," she admitted meekly, trying and failing to mask the pain in her voice. "Not anymore."

A beat of silence, then all of the girls suddenly broke out into laughter. They didn't even bother to hide their amusement behind their hands this time.

"How does that even happen?" the brunette cackled.

Katara shut her eyes, her throat constricting at the memory of losing her bending. And she couldn't answer the question. This wound was still too fresh.

"Got what she deserved," said the girl on the left to her friends.

The brunette stifled her laughter with great effort, then pouted at Katara in fake sympathy.

"Don't worry," she said, "If you behave well, maybe the Madam will give you back your bending in the future." She had to cover her mouth to hide her grin that was betraying her act, then quickly got back into character. "I mean, just look at the harem guards. They're your kind. When they were bought from the slave markets, they were just like you—mannerless, feral beasts. But we educated them, and now no one bothers them anymore. So, what I'm saying is, you just gotta hang in there and hope you have what it takes to be a proper human. You can do it. I believe in you."

"That's enough, Shila."

Katara turned in the direction the voice came from. A girl around her age, maybe a little younger, was approaching the table with a lady-in-waiting in tow. Her pale skin complexion, lean frame, and the way she carried herself so confidently gave away her origins as a Fire Nation noble, and having a lady-in-waiting warranted her as a Favorite—a mistress belonging to the Fire Lord's harem, it seemed, judging by her age.

"Or what?" Shila said as the girl and her handmaiden came to a stop beside the table. Shila's cunning eyes glided over to the waterbender and her sincere act faded away into a sly smile. "What's she gonna do? Waterbend at me?"

Katara's hold on the tray's handles tightened into a white-knuckled grip. She opened her mouth to retort—and immediately blow her cover as the broken girl she'd worked so hard to preserve—but the newly-arrived girl spoke first, glowering with her hands on her hips.

"Oh, stop it, will you? We all know you're just jealous because she actually might get to be summoned by Lord Ozai and outrank you, when the only chance you had of becoming a concubine was years ago before Prince Zuko was banished. Now he has a girlfriend, and you'll never see his face. Stop harassing people just because you're gonna rot away in here like the rest of us."

Shila's smile dropped instantly, and the girls sitting with her were left wide-eyed. Spite oozed out of her eyes as she glared at the girl and then at Katara.

Then, in the blink of an eye, her anger got completely erased from her face and she began smiling innocently again.

"I think you confused me and yourself, sweetheart," she told the younger girl. "You see, unlike some of us, I'm not just some one-time fling. No man will ever use me, then throw me away like dirty laundry." Her smile turned devious. "Just you wait till Zuko gets one good look at me. He'll dump his girlfriend for me. And even if he doesn't, everyone knows they fight all the time—it's only a matter of time before they break up for good. So no, honey, I'm not gonna 'rot away in here like the rest of you'. I'll be Fire Lady one day, and you will all bow to me."

The girl simply snorted in response. "Yeah, you keep telling yourself that."

Shila kept smiling, though the irritation behind her eyes was plain obvious.

"There's no point in denying the inevitable, love," she said at last, then waved her hand dismissively. "Now go away, both of you. You're blocking my morning sun." She turned to Katara. "Have someone bring us breakfast."

Katara curtsied, as she was obliged to do so when receiving an order. She was perplexed as to what had just happened, why anyone in this cursed country would help her in any way. It was probably just another game they were trying to play on her—get her to trust them so that they can freely question her on Aang's whereabouts, then get rid of her once they have the information.

She walked away from the table to pass on Shila's order to someone, but didn't make it two steps before a hand latched onto her upper arm.

"Hey."

She turned around to face the girl that had helped her, eyes cast on her tray.

"I know you don't know me, but I know you," the girl said, letting go of Katara's arm, "Well, I know of you. I meant I've heard tales of you."

Katara's brows knitted in confusion.

"My dad's the general that attacked the Northern Air Temple," the girl explained. "He told me he saw you taking on, like, six tanks at once. He hates you for destroying his stuff, of course, but I personally find you really amazing. I'm not a bender, but even if I was, I doubt I could fight off a single soldier!"

Katara glanced up at the girl. She was smiling—like actually grinning, not smirking or sneering like everyone else had done these past months. And she seemed sincere too. But Katara knew of another Fire Nation person who'd seemed genuine at first, and look where putting her trust in him had gotten her.

She lowered her gaze onto her tray and tried to seem as distant as possible. "Thank you, ma'am."

An awkward moment of silence passed, then the girl offered the waterbender her hand. "I'm Lui, by the way. It's nice to meet you."

"It is a pleasure to meet you too, ma'am," Katara said, curtsying formally. She felt Ayuki's watchful eyes on her, telling her to resume her chores from over Lui's shoulder. "If you'll excuse me, I should get back to work."

She didn't need to look at Lui to know her smile had faltered.

"Oh, okay," the girl said, deflatedly drawing her hand back. "I'll see you later, then?"

Katara curtsied again and uttered a faint, "Ma'am," before walking away.

Maybe Lui actually was a good person and maybe she actually meant good, but Katara couldn't take that risk. She couldn't trust anyone anymore, especially not someone who was a daughter of a Fire Nation general. These people were all lying, manipulative fiends. They were the enemy, and they would always be the enemy.

A/N

I really hope you, the most wonderfulest readers on the platform, are enjoying these Zutara-less, set-up chapters. As I wrote in a previous note, they're important to the story, so I can't skip them. But the good news is the introductory parts are finally over and we'll finally start getting some action starting next chapter! Woo-hoo!

PS: I want to address something that might have caused some confusion. It's about why there's Fire Nation nobility in Ozai and Zuko's harems, when the only people we saw entering their harem before were slaves. This is another thing I took from the Ottoman Harem. While there were a bunch of slaves there as well, it was quite common for noblemen to gift their daughters to the emperor and their sons, because the harem gave the best education in the country on things like embroidery, playing instruments, singing, dancing, calligraphy, etiquette, history… anything someone would need to be a well-mannered lady—and also because the women there may get to become the next empress one day, and that's something anyone would want.