AN: Hello, the people! Thanks for reading! :)
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Katara stayed on edge all day long. She was afraid Zuko would come back to actually say whatever awful thing he'd been thinking earlier. But when the door finally opened around dinner time, it turned out to only be Lieutenant Roshu.
This was normal enough - Roshu was always the one who came in to check her restraints before her daily drink - but this time a second guard slipped in behind him. While Roshu spoke to Katara, the other man tentatively picked up the empty canteen from the floor and shook it.
"Get up, waterbender. You're going upstairs."
Katara climbed to her feet slowly, careful not to jostle the water she had concealed inside the locking mechanisms of her cuffs. "Which of them is it this time?"
Roshu narrowed his eyes at her. "You'd be wise to answer either summons quickly and with less attitude."
"Oh, I'm sorry, Roshu. I forgot that asking questions is frowned upon in the Fire Nation."
"You're pushing your luck, prisoner. Watch your mouth or you'll earn yourself a lesson in respect."
"Oh, didn't you hear? I'm a princess." Katara held her head as high as she could, met the Lieutenant's glower, and gave her best impression of Azula's airy indifference. "Only my private tutors teach me lessons."
Roshu's face twisted and turned a shade redder but he did not speak. He snatched up her chain and marched her out of the brig. Katara had to struggle to keep pace while focusing on holding her water in the manacles, so the lower levels and a great many stairs passed without her noticing.
But then, at the bottom of the last flight of stairs, the Lieutenant stopped. The landing was dimly lit by a lantern, and the orange light cast deep shadows in his brow and the corners of his mouth. He fixed the second guard with a hard look. "Wait at the top."
A shudder swept up Katara's spine and she subtly leaned away from him, letting her wrists be cinched in slightly by the already taut chain. The other guard peered between her and his commander. "Sir?"
"One minute, Private," Roshu said. "If I haven't brought her up, you sound the alarm."
The guard still didn't look convinced, but he nodded and hustled ahead up the stairs. And Katara was alone with the Lieutenant.
He frowned down at her, huge and angry and gripping that chain. Katara steeled herself. It would be easy to use the water from her cuffs to break free. He would be so surprised, he wouldn't even see the attack coming until he was out cold. It wouldn't even take a minute.
"You joke, but the Prince beats your brother every day."
Katara's mind went blank. "What?"
"A consequence of disrespect. The wolf attacked Prince Zuko in his cell and, instead of just having him flogged once, the Prince sends for him every day and uses practice swords to beat him until he can't get up."
Water was trickling unnoticed down Katara's fingers and seeping through her cloth shoes. She could only meet Roshu's stare as he went on.
"So you keep on pushing him, waterbender. Keep shouting at him like a fishwife behind closed doors and keep making your snide remarks. One of these days, he'll get enough. Then you can have private lessons with the Prince just like your brother."
He pressed her on up the stairs and Katara stumbled along, numb. In what seemed like no time at all, they were up the stairs and a new door was opening before her.
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Sokka didn't realize something was wrong until the guards reached the level of the training room and then kept shoving him up several more floors. Sure, it was late in the day for his playdate with the jerkbender, but he had been too busy enjoying the extra hours of sleep to really think about that. As he was hustled down a spacious, richly-appointed corridor, he began to finally wonder at the occasion for this morning's cancellation. Whatever it was, it couldn't be good.
Finally, a servant opened one of the doors and Sokka was driven into a room bright with daylight and really unnecessary gold decor. His eyes were drawn at once to the window on the far wall, through which he could see a sky going pink with early evening. It was the first time Sokka had seen the sky in ten days.
Zuko stood peering out the window with his hands clasped behind his back. He was wearing a snazzy black tunic that he probably wouldn't want to ruin with blood or sweat, so Sokka immediately became even more suspicious. If he wasn't here to fight, the mystery only deepened.
"Remove his chains and go," Zuko said, not bothering to look away from the world outside.
He probably didn't see the guards' uncertain glances and shrugs, but Sokka did. He also saw the way their eyes slid sideways at their prince's back. But Zuko's budding mutiny - or whatever that was - wasn't Sokka's problem. He jangled his chains. "Hey. Kaiji. Make with the removing, will ya? I'm gonna get a cramp."
The guard, a tall thin guy with a mustache and a pointy beard, frowned at him and muttered something about 'Water Tribe buffoons' as he worked the key.
Sokka didn't watch them leave. He rubbed his wrists where the manacles had chafed and frowned at Zuko, who still stared out the window. Then the door shut quietly and the room was silent. Awkwardly, uncomfortably silent. Sokka scanned the place, looking for potential weapons, but all he saw were a few tapestries, a low table, and some sitting cushions. There were two doors besides the one through which he'd entered, leading off opposite sides of the sitting room. Unless Sokka wanted to start a pillow fight or run away, he was out of luck.
"Alright," Sokka finally sighed. "What's your game now, Zuko?"
Zuko did not speak for a long moment, then turned to face him. He was as tense and sour-faced as ever, but his eyes flicked toward Sokka, then away, then back again. "What do you think of this room?"
"What, are you tired of our old room?"
Zuko huffed and his face twisted with irritation. "Just answer the question."
Sokka folded his arms and pretended to consider it. "Whoever lives here is rich enough to hire someone with taste to decorate, but chose not to, probably because he believes conspicuous wealth is charming. Which it's not."
"Sokka."
"What do you want me to say? It's gaudy. That's not my fault."
"But is it…" Zuko's mouth pinched shut and he glared at the wall, then at Sokka again. "Does it look comfortable?"
Sokka frowned at him, then glanced around the room again. The cushions. The tapestries. "It could be less Fire Nation-y."
Zuko followed his line of sight and stalked across the room to yank down the giant Fire Nation insignia. He frowned at the empty wall, then back at Sokka.
Sokka shrugged and gave him a thumbs-up.
Zuko glanced one more time at the wall, then took a breath and stepped to the side and opened the door that led off toward the stern of the ship. "Now this one," he said, waiting for Sokka to precede him.
Sokka heaved a sigh and shuffled toward the door. "You know, if you're gonna make me go through the whole ship one room at a time, I can save you the trouble and tell you right now that you're trying for way too much red…"
He trailed off as he looked around the second room, alarms beginning to clang in his head. This room did not fit next to the sitting room they had just left. This room didn't belong in this part of the ship at all.
It was a cramped bedroom, windowless and lit by two oil lamps hung from iron hooks in the walls. Even mellow light made the pale yellow walls glow and it spread softly to all corners of the room. There were several large mirrors mounted to the walls near the door, and the other walls were lined in a great many shelves that stood empty except for a few books and scrolls stacked all together, and some shelves lower, a row of militantly folded clothes. A paper screen filled the back wall but on the near side there was a simple pallet on the floor, tidily made with a fine blanket pulled snug over the top.
Sokka looked on this room and his stomach plunged as he realized immediately what this was. And who was intended to live here.
"It's small," Zuko was saying behind him. "I knew it was, but it didn't seem so bad before everything went in. I would have had one of the guest rooms prepared, but they all have windows. So that wasn't an option."
Sokka turned to face him, but he didn't really see Zuko. He saw beyond him, over his shoulder, through the doorway to the door on the far side of the sitting room. He shoved past Zuko on his way to that door.
"Hey! What are you-?"
Sokka threw the door open and froze as all his fears were confirmed. The room beyond was also a bedroom, but this one belonged here. It was dark and lavish. Long drapes. A bed big enough for three or four people.
And it smelled like Zuko.
Sokka whirled in the doorway. Zuko stood across the sitting room, looking way more irritated than he had any right to feel. "You smug, smoke-blowing monster," Sokka shouted, storming closer. "You brought me up here, and asked my advice, all to rub this in my face?"
"Don't be dramatic," Zuko snarled.
"Quit dishonoring my sister!"
Zuko's one eyebrow gave a startled leap and his face flushed a sudden, desperate shade of red. But he didn't protest.
"All you've done is hurt her and shame her. The least you can do now is stay away."
Zuko stared at him as the blush faded away to an unhealthy pallor. Then he bared his teeth. "That's not an option anymore."
Sokka was about to demand what, exactly, this was supposed to mean, but Zuko abruptly backed down and returned to the cramped bedroom.
"Did you see this part? Pay attention, Sokka."
Swearing through his teeth, Sokka followed him, and paused in the doorway. Zuko had compressed the folding screen, and now Sokka could see that the room went on. There was a second pallet, made up like the first, crammed in the back. More clothes waited in tidy stacks on shelves above the bed.
Zuko was standing by the screen, an especially bitter tilt to his mouth as he watched Sokka's reaction.
"You're going to keep us both in here," Sokka said.
"Based on the size of those hovels you lived in at the South Pole, I assume you'll have plenty of space."
"Funny. What was this before? Your surplus formal wear storage room?"
Zuko went tight-lipped. "It was mostly empty."
"Uh huh." Sokka scratched his chin and looked over the room again, saw it again. Then he turned the same assessment on Zuko. "Why?"
Zuko glanced to one side. "The tailor on staff works quickly…"
"No, I mean why are you moving us up here? We both kind of want to kill you and you expect to sleep peacefully two rooms over?"
"I would hear either one of you coming, especially with guards posted in the sitting room. And I had a lock installed on the door."
Sokka inspected it, a sturdy enough deadbolt attached to a much less formidable door. "So you're going to keep us locked in a closet, because…?"
"It's better than a trunk."
"You're a riot today. But seriously."
Zuko frowned at the pallet at his feet. "It's not proper to keep foreign royalty in those conditions." His eyes flicked to one side and his expression turned a little harder. "And Katara can't stay in the brig anymore."
"Why not?"
Sokka watched Zuko's eyes dart around and his suspicions grew. "She isn't getting enough water," he murmured, building steam. "The guards are afraid of her, and it's made them careless about her upkeep. I won't risk her losing- her health."
Sokka did not like the way Zuko's eyes had roamed while he spoke but were now resting steadily on him, like a dare. Oh no, he did not like that at all. "There's something else, isn't there?"
Zuko's jaw flexed and he was silent. To Sokka, that just screamed I have a big nasty secret and you're not going to like it.
"Katara will be here soon," Zuko said abruptly. "You should clean up and change." He took the three steps across the room to where a low, narrow table was set up at the base of a mirror. Kneeling, he put his hands on either side of a bowl of water, and breathed. When he rose again, steam drifted from the surface.
As Zuko passed him in the doorway, Sokka worked his jaw and shrugged. "This room is okay, I guess."
He turned in time to see the way Zuko's expression brightened with startled hope.
"But," Sokka said, clasping the other guy's shoulder and leaning close, "I can't wait to hear what Katara has to say."
He shut the door in Zuko's tense face with great satisfaction.
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Zuko turned away from the door of what had up until this afternoon been his dressing room, and paced the clear space before the window. His knee was still sore from a particularly devious trick Sokka had pulled yesterday. All day, he had been careful to maintain a level stride, because it wouldn't do for anyone to know that the prisoner had injured the prince. Now, absent-mindedly, he paced the sitting room with a slow, off-balance rhythm.
Outside, the sun had set. The sitting room was growing dark. A maid entered quietly and went around lighting the evening lamps and shooting tiny licks of flame into the candles in their high sconces. Zuko paid her no mind. He only stopped and peered out the window.
In particular, he peered at the steel lattice he had had welded into the window frame before noon. It was a piece of large-square fence panel from the rhino pens. Someone had painted it black to match the trim, and now it very nearly looked elegant, but Zuko knew it was strong enough to hold in a Komodo rhino and, probably, Katara.
But Katara during a full moon? Nothing was certain.
It was an enormous risk, taking her out of the brig now. If she escaped, she would wreck havoc. Sink the ship, free the Avatar.
Or just leave. With Zuko's son.
She had called it a 'he.' Zuko didn't know how she knew, he just accepted that she would. A boy, a son. Zuko was going to have a son. He had been thinking the words over and over all day, and they still felt raw and unreal. How could he have a son? He had only just ended his banishment, and he'd been a kid when he left. He was only now going home, and he wouldn't be home a year before he became a father.
The sky to the south was a gradient from evening green to deepest black. The stars shone cold as icebergs in the distance. Zuko could see his reflection in the glass as night deepened and the room grew brighter. He looked frightened, and he was. He was terrified.
And yet…
Zuko had not had time to really process it the first time Katara brought up pregnancy. That whole last night on Hakoda's ship had been a desperate, painful blur. Katara had already decided there wasn't going to be a baby, then. And it had been over, just like that. Zuko hadn't let himself think on it any more.
But all day today, a warm knot had been tightening in his chest. When he stood perfectly still, he could hear a quiet voice, the distant sounds of turtle-ducks, waves hissing across hot sand. Zuko was going to have a son.
And Katara meant to take him away. Not just that, but she planned to turn Zuko's son against him and instigate a civil war for the crown. She thought she could tell him this to his face, just like that, and Zuko would simply allow it to happen. She thought he was weak.
She could think again.
Zuko didn't care one bit if Katara didn't want to be around him. She was staying here, where he could keep an eye on her. She was going to eat well and drink enough water and be comfortable, and she wasn't going to be manhandled by any of those idiot guards.
And when she made her move to escape, she was going to find Zuko first and foremost standing in her path. She was a fool if she thought she could leave these rooms without killing him first.
He heard the door open and turned in time to see a hulking lieutenant usher Katara into the sitting room. She looked dazed, but better than she had this morning. Her eyes, at least, were brighter and her color was a little less pallid, though perhaps that was the light.
Then she spotted Zuko and her expression hardened. Zuko was ready. He frowned right back.
Then he looked to the guards. "Private, you're dismissed. Report back to your captain. Lieutenant," Zuko paused to assess this man. Lieutenant Roshu, Katara's transport officer. He was known to be among the best at keeping newly chained waterbenders under control. "You'll meet with me tomorrow morning to discuss your assignment. Dismissed."
Zuko didn't see Katara's eyes follow the leaving guards. He was too busy noticing how reluctant the Lieutenant was to relinquish that chain.
As soon as the door shut, Katara crossed her arms, chains rattling. She looked thin-lipped and a little flushed now. "Dismissed, huh? How am I supposed to get back to my cell?"
"You aren't going back to the brig," Zuko said.
"And you expect me to stay here with you?" she demanded.
Zuko narrowed his eyes. He had had a very long day preparing these rooms, involving a lot of tense conversations with a lot of concerned staff members. It was a miracle Azula hadn't intervened. And yet here was Katara, getting upset before she even knew what he had in mind. Because she didn't want to be around him. Because he hadn't given her her way and resigned himself to life as an honorless failure. Or was it because the sight of her crying had compelled him to comfort her in what turned out to be the wrong way? Zuko didn't know. Zuko didn't care. If she wanted to argue, he was game. And he would win.
"That's exactly what I expect," he said. "And that's how it's going to be."
"Or what?" Katara jutted her chin forward and waded another step into the room.
"Or nothing. There is no 'or.'" Zuko began closing the space between them, watching closely as she uncrossed her arms, as she balanced her stance. He didn't want to feel this now, he was so mad at her, but the way she held herself ready to face him in this fight… it excited him.
Yes, she looked much better than she had this morning. Much stronger. The water had already done her good.
"Pff." Katara pulled a disgusted face. "Don't you mean you'll beat me up?"
Zuko stopped several paces away. "Don't test me, Katara. I'm not going to hurt you," he said, "but I will stop you if you try to leave."
"I'm not afraid of you. I don't know what you think is going to happen here, but you're not going to bully me into sleeping with you."
Zuko jerked back a step and stared at her. Did she really think he would do such a thing? She looked angry… and beneath that, rattled, and Zuko realized that she had just lied to him. She was afraid of him. Even standing before him, ready to fight, she was afraid. Katara had stopped being afraid of him after their early days in the barracks. But now she feared him again.
And it crossed Zuko's mind that that might not be such a bad thing.
His father was feared, and respected for it. The Fire Lord was a fearsome ruler by tradition and Ozai, as a leader and a man, commanded the fear of all those around him. Zuko had always subconsciously believed that this was something to which he, too, should aspire. Perhaps fear was a chain strong enough to hold Katara to him. He wouldn't actually hurt her, he wouldn't even touch her. And besides, acting the way she had, thinking so little of his strength, his honor, she had spun his patience so thin. It would feel good to remind her who held the power, who controlled every aspect of this situation.
But Zuko choked on the words. Something told him there was an invisible line before him and, if he stepped over, there would be no returning. Even angry as he was, it felt so wrong to have Katara watch him as if she didn't know him at all. As if he might do anything.
Zuko drew a great breath and straightened a degree. He tamped down the anger as he would a flame. "You're right," he said. "That's not going to happen." He indicated the door to the former dressing room. "You and Sokka will be share that room."
Katara blinked and shot a suspicious look at the door. "Sokka?"
"Yeah," Zuko said, low and irritated. "I don't know what's taking him so long in there."
Before he even finished the sentence, Katara had jangled across the sitting room and burst through the door. There was a startled yelp.
"Hey! Naked guy in here!"
"Sokka!"
She vanished into the room beyond and Zuko turned to look out the window. Or rather, at his own frown reflected in the glass. Something had changed in his eyes and mouth, but he couldn't say what it was.
Was this weakness, or was it strength?
In the reflection, he saw a maid quietly enter and cross the room. Her head was bowed, but her eyes flicked up Zuko's back furtively. When he turned to face her, she watched the floor.
"Prince Zuko," she said a little breathlessly, "your honored sister has requested your company for the evening meal."
Zuko scowled. He'd been expecting some form of this invitation all day, and now it had come at the most inconvenient time. He had intended to remain with Katara and Sokka and keep an eye on them tonight. If they made a bid for freedom and he wasn't here to stop them, then this would all have been for nothing.
"Sokka…" Katara's muffled voice came from through the closed door, but the affection was so thick in it it made Zuko ache. "That can't be right. You're putting it on backwards."
"How would you know?"
"Common sense! Look at the seams!"
Then again, Azula's suite was just down the hall and up the stairs. Maybe it would be better to give them an hour or so to catch up now while they were still off-balance from the change. Maybe then Zuko wouldn't have to be there when Katara told Sokka about the baby. There would probably still be a backlash waiting for him when he returned, but Zuko could deal with that later.
"Have Yotsu bring fresh water and oversee their meal. There are to be no less than six guards in this room at all times. Understood?"
"Yes, Prince Zuko," the maid said in a tiny voice. And then, in a tinier voice still, "But… water, sir?"
Zuko narrowed his eyes.
"I would never dare question my Prince," the maid said all in a rush, "but Yotsu is not a powerful firebender like your highness. The waterbender could kill him."
Zuko assessed this maid anew. She had a thin face with an innocent openness. He had not seen her before. This was not one of Azula's maids; her uniform was not quite tidy enough, and she was too bold or foolish besides to survive that position. Maybe she was one of the staff that carried things up from the kitchens.
"What's your name?" Zuko asked abruptly.
She swallowed and her eyes widened even more. "Sian, your highness."
Zuko dipped his chin in acknowledgement. "Tell Yotsu to treat my guests with the same civility he shows me. They won't hurt polite people. Now go."
Sian bowed and hurried off, and Zuko frowned at the door to the dressing room. Their voices were still drifting through, bickering affectionately.
Yes, he thought as he strode out into the corridor, better to give them tonight. He selected a handful of the guards stationed nearby and sent them to stand ready in the sitting room, then went to speak to his own sister. Agni help him.
.
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"You don't look like he's been beating you," Katara finally said, voicing a relief that she'd felt the second she spotted Sokka's nearly-naked and nearly-bruiseless body. She was sitting on the floor on her side of the paper screen now, twiddling her thumbs and trying not to spread her filth anywhere.
Sokka poked his head around the screen to frown at her. "Did Zuko tell you that was what was happening?"
"A guard told me. He said Zuko beats you with practice swords."
Sokka rolled his eyes and started doing up the toggles of his jacket one-off. "I get a sword too, you know. We both get our whacks in. Just because I'm not some flame-throwing war machine doesn't mean I can't hold my own."
Katara watched him realize his mistake with the toggles and start undoing them again. "So why don't you have any bruises?"
"They take me to see Loska before I go back in the brig."
"Who?"
"Loska. The waterbending healer? You met her." Sokka finished his toggles and admired himself in one of the rooms's large mirrors.
Katara blinked at him for a second, remembering. "Oh," she huffed, "so she can tell you her name but I'm not worthy?"
Sokka looked at her in the mirror. "Yeah, actually you did come up one time. I asked her if she'd seen my sister and she told me I ought to be ashamed for letting you spoil your feminine charms."
"Ugh," Katara scoffed, folding her arms and glaring. "And what did you tell her?"
Sokka held up his hands in diplomatic surrender. "I just nod and let her do her job, Katara. You can't fight a traditionalist when she's also your doctor. It's bad form."
Katara made an irritated sound and would have told him it was bad form not to defend your sister from at least one of her many critics, but there was a soft knock at the door. She and Sokka shared a look, then Sokka called, "Who is it?"
"His Highness, Prince Zuko's valet," answered a level voice. "I've come with fresh water for- for the Lady's bath."
Katara perked up. "Oh! Come in!"
The door opened and a slim man in a servant's uniform entered, expertly balancing a tray on one hand as he shut the door behind him. Before it closed, though, Katara caught a glimpse of the guards milling around the room beyond. Her eyes narrowed. Of course.
Staring fixedly at the floor, the valet quietly went about replacing Sokka's basin of dirty water with clean water from a pitcher, and then set out a few glass bottles. He almost scurried right back out of the room, but Katara spoke first, repositioning to lightly touch one of the bottles.
"Wait- er, what's your name?"
The valet turned and bowed. "I am Yotsu… Princess Katara."
Katara froze at the title, then smiled just a little. It was strange and pleasant to have someone from the Fire Nation treat her with reverence after the past weeks. So much about this seemed like a too-good dream. The snug room, the privacy, the politeness... It was almost enough to make Katara forget she was a prisoner. Almost.
Sokka snickered. "Princess Katara. Oh that's rich…"
Katara shot her brother a scowl and then turned back to the valet, who had inched a little closer to the door. "Yotsu, I wanted to ask you about these bottles. What are they?"
"Scented oils and a lotion, Princess. Apologies for the scant selection - it only occurred to me at the last moment that you might enjoy such a thing." Yotsu stiffened. "Not that I wouldn't expect a princess of the Water Tribe to enjoy refined things! I only mean that, as a man's valet, I am not so well practived in personal service for ladies."
Sokka was snickering again and Yotsu's eyes widened. Katara finally caught the joke and glared daggers at her brother. "Sokka!"
"He said it," he chortled.
Katara rolled her eyes and looked back to Yotsu. The man was clearly trying to remain stoic but a crease had formed in his brow. Katara felt embarrassed for him. "I'm sorry about my brother. He's an idiot sometimes. Would you mind helping him dress himself properly? I don't think he can match an outfit and his pants are on backwards."
"They are not… I don't think."
Yotsu raised his eyes to glance over Sokka's clothes and the furrow in his brow deepened. "It would be my honor to assist Prince Sokka," he said carefully.
Sokka made some grumbly noises but finally assented. Yotsu slipped past Katara and pulled the screen fully into place.
"Okay then," Katara said as they began a very quiet discussion about seams, "I guess I'm just going to wash up while you guys do that…"
They went on whispering as if they hadn't heard her, but Katara couldn't wait any more. The basin of water was right there before her and the need to be clean was an itch between her shoulder blades, an itch she had to scratch. Right now. She hurriedly stripped off her grubby clothes and dipped a washcloth into the room temperature water. Her element pressed against her skin like a tiny hug. The splash and hiss of wringing out the cloth gave her a chill of anticipation.
It didn't matter that the water wasn't hot. This was perfect. Katara was leery of most everything else, but not this. Water was simple. Water was comfort. And power.
But as she bathed, she had to wonder. What was Zuko up to now? Why had he placed this advantage in her hands when he knew what she planned to do?
She felt a little embarrassed for jumping to the conclusion that she had, now that she had seen that Sokka was alright. Not that Zuko hadn't been a real creep lately, and he certainly had had that look in his eyes for a second, Katara hadn't imagined that. Nor had she imagined the concentrated leap in her pulse, or her uncomfortable mixture of desire and fear. She just tried not to think of those feelings, because they made her hate herself.
It didn't matter. Regardless, Katara was sure that Zuko had some selfish reason for taking her from the brig now. Something to do with the baby. Maybe he just wanted to see to it personally that she didn't escape with his heir. Or maybe he intended to slip her some kind of herb to end it, as he had believed she had already done.
But no, Zuko wouldn't try that kind of easy deceit. He thought too highly of his forthrightness, his honor. More likely, he would try to get on her good side and then convince her to do whatever it was he wanted.
Katara finished washing and dropped the cloth on the table by the basin. In the mirror, a strange naked woman was looking back at her. She was thinner than Katara, and her posture was not so straight, but it didn't seem to matter because there was power coiled in the muscles of her stomach. There was fresh hardship in the planes of her face. Beneath the calm of her eyes, violence. Whatever Zuko wanted, this woman wouldn't give it to him.
It was the girl inside, whispering like a ghost about that honorable boy with the hungry eyes - that was what made Katara sweat.
