The word is nothing but ash and white noise, Zuko struggles to get up onto his knees, his eyes burn and his throat rasps as he tries to breathe around the smoke that lingers in the air.
Katara.
Her name hits him like a ton of bricks, he looks to the summer palace and his heart sinks, the palace has been stripped down to the bones; it’s charred and black bones. Zuko looks around and sees guards struggling to get up, some don’t move at all.
Where’s Katara?
A coughing fit hits Zuko’s lungs, he tries to hack up the smoke and soot that burn his lungs, this draws the attention of the guards.
“My Fire Lord,” they gape, some racing over to him to help him up from the ashen courtyard.
Zuko pushes the others away and he races into the crumbling palace, he ignores his guard’s pleas as he races to where their room used to be. Zuko ignores the pain in his chest, he ignores the way he has to lean on blackened support beams as he passes them.
There, sitting on top of a dresser where she left it, miraculously spared by the fires, is Katara’s necklace, whole and intact.
Zuko closers his fist around the necklace and presses it to his heart as agony rips through him.
A guard rushes in after him and Zuko grabs the man by his shirt.
“Where is she?” Zuko asks, his voice rasping as he chokes on smoke, “Where’s my wife?!”
...
Katara stayed in the room, she stayed behind the guards, but she grasped a sword in her hand, her knuckles white as she listens to the commotion outside. The fight seemed to be coming closer and closer to the room and Katara prepared herself for a fight.
A woman bolted into the room, she moved faster than the guards could track. After a second of entering, the woman had one guard killed and was dodging the attack from the other one.
Katara tried, and failed to summon her bending, her heart raced as she stepped in front of the other guard and blocked the assassin with her sword.
The assassin locked swords with Katara and Katara found herself staring into a pair of tawny eyes that cut like steel. The rest of the assassins face is obscured by a black mask, but the eyes are enough to tell Katara that this woman is a trained killer.
Katara grinds her teeth and pushes the assassin back, she goes into a fighting stance and the assassin snarls under her mask, she pulls out three small knives from her sleeves and throws them with expert’s precision.
Katara barely doges the knives in time, but she recognises the small steel blades, her eyes widen and as she breathes a name falls on her breath.
Mai.
The remaining guard charges forward and Mai grabs him, turns him around and then cuts his throat. Blood sprays over the room, splattering Katara in most of it. Katara watches in horror as the guard falls and flops like a fish out of water. He claws at his throat, gurgling on his own blood as he bleeds out.
Katara attacks, she and Mai fall to the ground, weapons discarded as they wrestle.
“What are you doing?!” Katara snarls, pinning Mai under her weight like she had done to Zuko numerous times.
Katara pulls Mai’s mask off and the deadly assassin snarls like a wild animal.
“Mai, stop!” Katara snaps, pinning her arms again, “I don’t want to kill you.”
“It’s the only way you’ll stop me,” Mai snarls, she frees herself of Katara’s pin and grabs the Fire Lady by the throat.
Katara gasps out as she is pushed back and Mai punches her in the face. Katara and Mai get to their feet and Katara puts up her fists as Mai unsheathes another dagger from her thigh.
Mai is faster than Katara anticipated, she slashes and lunges at Katara, only missing her by mere inches. But Katara slips, she slips on a pool of blood and Mai grabs her by her hair. Mai pulls Katara back to her and then tackles her to the ground, pinning Katara on her front and immobilising her hands behind her back.
“Mai!” Katara snarls, trying to wiggle out of the hold, “Don’t do this!”
“I’m not killing you,” Mai hisses, her breathing is uneven and rough as she struggles to tie Katara’s hands, “Hold still!”
Mai ties Katara’s hands with a length of rope, she ties it tightly and it bites into Katara’s skin.
“You’re useless without your bending,” Mai puffs, pulling Katara to her feet.
“Only one of us is panting,” Katara points out, “I’m going to kill you.”
Mai just scoffs and tries to subtly catch her breath as she pushes Katara out of the room.
When Katara is in the hall she turns around and roundhouse kicks Mai in the face before taking off running, calling out for her husband as she struggles against the ropes that bind her. Unfortunately, Katara doesn’t get far, Mai catches her, slams her into a wall, and then puts her dagger into Katara’s shoulder.
Katara screams out as the pain burns through her and Mai grinds her teeth and leaves the dagger in place.
“Don’t.” Mai puffs, taking control of Katara again, “Run. From me.”
Katara is dragged out into the courtyard and the scene around her is chaos; a sheen of sweat covers Katara as she feels the waves of heat coming from the fires that burn around her. There are dead bodies everywhere, some guards, and few rebels.
“Katara!” Zuko calls, Katara looks to the middle of the courtyard where Zuko is searching frantically.
“ZUKO!” Katara calls, fighting Mai’s hold as she tries to fight her way back to her husband’s side.
Mai pulls Katara back and punches her for trying to escape, a roar rises in the night and Mai looks up to where Zuko is racing towards her.
Fire erupts in the courtyard, it roars out of Zuko’s throat and out of his hands, the fire twists together and looks eerily like a dragon as it races towards Mai and Katara.
No. It is a dragon.
Time slows and Katara can see the dragon clearly, its jaws open and turns blueish in its fangs as it swallows Katara and Mai whole.
However, as Mai starts to scream, the fire doesn’t touch Katara, it doesn’t even singe the clothes on her skin. The fire feels cool around Katara, it feels like home as it swirls around her protectively.
But Mai is not so fortunate, the fire swallows her, it devours her and she screams in agony as it forces her to her knees. Katara turns back to face Mai and she sees Mai turn to ash before her eyes.
The whole ordeal lasts only a few seconds, but for Katara it felt like a lifetime, and she had never felt safer.
But then the fire dies, it doesn’t recede, it doesn’t linger around them, it doesn’t burn out. It dies, it vanishes as quickly as it came and Katara’s eyes turn back to her husband who is no longer obstructed by the fires. But Katara finds him falling, he is falling to the ground, his eyes rolled slightly back as a warrior stands behind him, the pommel of his sword up.
Katara’s heart stops in her chest, she watches as the rebel changes his grip on his sword and points his blade at Zuko’s back.
“NO!” Katara screams, she races towards the rebel but is stopped when another grabs her around her waist and starts dragging him backwards.
“Leave him!” the rebel who holds Katara shouts, “We’ve got what we came for and we need him alive!”
The rebel screws up his face but steps over Zuko’s comatose body and walks towards his partner to help drag Katara away.
Katara fights with all her might as she watches countless guards fall trying to rescue her. The rebels eventually pull Katara into a wagon and throw a bag over her head before knocking her out too.
...
Zuko’s guards track the rebels to the docks, and a quick check in with the dock master reveals that there was a ship that docked early yesterday afternoon and left late at night in a hurry.
“The dock master saw them dragging an unconscious girl onto the ship,” a guard relays, “he said the ship has the phoenix king’s emblem on it.”
Zuko roars out a breath of fire and the guards flinch back as the healer ducks.
“My lord,” she stammers, causing Zuko to stop and look down, “you have a cracked rib, you need to take it easy.”
“How can I take it easy when Katara is missing?!” he snaps, he pushes the healer away and ignores the pain as he stalks out of the room, “Send messengers hawks to every navy, to every ship on the water and on every dock. I want that ship found immediately!”
Zuko’s rage builds in his chest, smoke curls from his nose like a dragon as he leaves the healers home she generously offered.
Zuko didn’t want to be around healers, they weren’t as good as Katara, yet they had a similar twinkle that all healers have.
Zuko pushes his crew to get ready to set sail.
“Are we returning to the Fire Nation?” the captain asks as the Fire Lord strides on deck.
“No,” Zuko snarls, “we need to find that ship.”
“My Lord,” Zuko’s captain of the guard says, “we should return to the palace, you’ve lost well over half of your guard. We’re unprotected and need to go home to restock, refuel and regroup.”
Zuko knows that his captain speaks the truth, he knows he has to return home. Zuko takes his captain’s advice and the ship heads back to the Fire Nation palace, on the way he writes almost a hundred letters and sends them off to everyone he can think of. He informs Sokka and sends letters to the avatar and Toph, he sends hawks to all the generals in the army and the navy, he utilizes all of his forces and has them scouting every inch of the world for Katara.
...
Katara awakens, the world is dark and it sways beneath her. Katara can feel the ocean close by, she can taste the saltiness on the air and can hear the sound of water crashing against the side of a ship.
Cold metal bites at Katara’s cheek and she sits up to her knees, the word rock again and her stomach launches and empties onto the floor.
I never get seasick. Katara thinks to herself as she stands to her feet.
Katara goes to wipe her mouth, but metal scrapes against her face and she frowns and realises that her hands are engulfed.
Katara takes a moment to compose herself, there is no time to panic, she has to figure out where she is.
Katara can feel the metal beneath her bare feet, she can hear people milling around, murmuring amongst themselves. The people are above her, the waters feel close, she assumes she’s below deck in a prison hold of a raider ship.
“Brings back memories,” Katara huffs to herself.
She tries to scratch the covering off her eyes by rubbing her face on her shoulder and then on the metal that binds her, but the coverings won’t budge.
Footsteps approach, they’re heavy and stomp heavily as they approach. Katara tilts her head towards the sound, she can hear the man breathing, its heavy and huffs with every second step.
Katara could bend water at her captor, her feet are left unbound and one swift kick would send the water at him, but it would achieve nothing and would probably result in Katara’s feet being bound.
“Enjoying your accommodations?” a gruff voice says from the darkness.
Katara just rolls her head towards the sound and sighs.
“What do you hope to gain from my capture?” Katara asks, ignoring the man’s voice that speaks at her.
“You killed my daughter,” the man gruffs, and Katara realises who she is speaking to, “I hope to gain nothing from this but the pleasure of watching you die.”
“You were the one who brought your daughter into this war,” Katara snarls, “her death is on your hands.”
Suddenly, Mai’s father’s hands are on Katara, it seems the Fire Lady stands closer to the bars than she thought. Mai’s father wraps his hands around Katara’s slender neck, he squeezes her and Katara’s eyes go wide under the blindfold.
It becomes harder for Katara to breathe as the man tightens his hold. He squeezes her neck until Katara believes that she is going to die, then he drops her, letting her fall to the ground like a sack of potatoes.
“You’re Zuko’s...”
“Fire Lord,” Katara interrupts, coughing and wheezing as she corrects the Mai’s father with such bravery, “He’s your Fire Lord and you will address him as such.”
“Zuko-”
“Fire Lord,” Katara corrects again, her neck throbs and tightens, almost begging her to be silent, but as Katara shifts away from the man’s voice, she becomes braver and more irritated by the man’s actions and words.
“You’re the Fire Lord’s favourite possession,” the captor finally finishes, giving in to Katara’s will.
“I am no possession,” Katara spits, “I’m his wife, his equal and I will not have you or anyone else saying otherwise.”
“The point is!” the captor snaps, getting frustrated with Katara’s arguing, “He’ll do anything to get you back.”
“And what is it that you want?” Katara asks, her throat relaxing as she pushes herself to her feet once again.
“You will soon find out,” the man gruffs.
...
The Fire Lord’s rage cannot be contained, it cannot be soothed.
“My lord,” one of his advisors starts during a meeting, “perhaps it would be wise to not make this information public.”
“My wife is missing,” Zuko snarls, he stands from his throne, “What do you suggest I do?”
“It could start a panic,” the advisor says, “we need to be seen as a united front, we cannot let the rebels think we are vulnerable.”
“The Fire Lady has been taken!” Zuko says, the fires in the room roar higher, “Of course we are vulnerable!”
“But if the rebels catch on...”
A knock comes at the door and a meek messenger pops his head inside.
“M-my lord?”
“What?!” Zuko snarls, pinning his rage on the young man.
“A letter has come for you.”
A member of the council takes the letter and opens the letter.
“It’s from the rebels,” the adviser reads.
“What does it say?” Zuko asks, a lump forms in his throat as the fires lower and he steps off his dais.
“They have Katara,” the councilman reads, his hands shaking as Zuko stalks closer, “They want to trade.”
Zuko snatches the letter, he reads it several times, his eyes scanning each letter carefully.
“Out,” Zuko says, his voice deep and deathly quiet, the advisors gather their things and scramble, but they aren’t scrambling fast enough, “OUT!”
The fires rage higher, some of the advisors swear that the fires roar and snap at them as they scamper out like mice.
The fires in the room rage higher and Zuko lashes out, fire bursts from his fists and spews from his mouth as Zuko cries out in rage.
“Zuko!” a voice shouts, a gust of air bursts into the palace and Zuko’s eyes snap to the Avatar as he douses the fires that eat away at the throne room.
“What are you doing here?” Zuko asks, his eyes glare at the avatar.
“I want to help,” Aang says, turning to the Fire Lord as two more people enter the room.
“Where is she?” Sokka asks, his face is red and his hands are fisted at his side, “Where is my sister?!”
“I don’t know,” Zuko says, his voice softening as he looks to his wife’s brother, “Sokka...I... I’m trying.”
“Try harder!” Sokka says.
“What’s this?” Toph says, picking up the rebels letter that is still partly on fire.
Aang extinguishes the fire and then takes the letter from Toph before she burns herself.
“They want to exchange,” Aang says, Sokka rushes to the avatar and takes the letter.
“Katara for Ozai?” Sokka finishes, he looks up to Zuko.
Zuko flinches when those water tribe eyes land on him.
“Then let’s give them Ozai,” Aang says, drawing Zuko’s attention, “He has no bending, he’s powerless.”
“If you think my father is powerless because he is missing his bending, then you’re more of a fool than I thought,” Zuko snarls, his anger rising once again, “Besides, it’s impossible.”
Zuko walks back up his dais and looks to Katara’s throne that sits next to his.
“My father is dead,” Zuko says, finally letting those grave words fall out of his mouth.
All eyes turn to Zuko, even Toph seems to be looking at the Fire Lord.
“How?” Aang asks, his voice is tempered and the air becomes charged with static.
“Assassination.”
...
Katara feels the ship stop, she is pulled from her cell and shoved around roughly, she is pushed off the ship and onto a smaller boat. Katara can feel the water, it’s closer to her and some of it even splashes onto her skin.
Katara wants to reach out to the water, she knows that she could control it with her feet, she could even possibly escape.
But there are more boats nearby, Katara doesn’t know if she could escape, let alone if she could stay free.
So Katara stays silent, she observes as best she can, but the men around her speak in low murmurs so Katara cannot hear what they’re saying, not properly.
Katara is pushed onto sand, she falls onto her face and her stomach launches, Katara throws up again, she doesn’t understand.
The rebels groan and then hoist Katara to her feet, they drag her along for miles, Katara makes sure to count her steps in case she manages to escape and needs to find her way back to the beach.
Things start to get hot, the ground becomes rock and sweat begins to drip down Katara’s forehead as the air becomes burning hot.
“Sir?” her captor says speaking to an unknown presence, “Where shall we put the girl?”
The unknown man doesn’t answer, but Katara is dragged off anyway, she is shoved into a tent and chained to a pole.
Katara is left alone, she shifts uncomfortably and pulls against her bonds.
“That will do nothing,” a voice says, entering the tent.
“Who are you?” Katara asks, pulling against her chains as she turns her head towards the speaker, “Where am I?”
Katara’s blindfold is pulled off and Katara pulls her face away as brightness blinds her. Katara blinks rapidly and then looks around at the red fabric of the tent. And then to the black rock underneath her.
“Where am I?” Katara asks, she feels fire rise up from beneath her, it heats the rock and burns her knees.
“We’re hidden in an active volcano,” the voice says, a man appears before her, he kneels down and Katara visibly cringes in disgust.
The man is middle aged with peppered grey hair and buck teeth protruding from his mouth, reminding Katara of an old rat. The man has a rounded belly and a jagged scar arching across his face.
“Katara,” the man hisses, he spits out her name as if it were nothing but venom on his tongue.
“That’s Fire Lady to you,” Katara snarls, facing the man and putting on a brave face.
The man smiles, finding Katara’s bravery amusing.
“What do you want with me?” Katara asks.
“You are the pretender’s greatest treasure,” the man says, his teeth gnashing as he speaks, “He’d do anything to get you back. We trade you for the true Fire Lord.”
“Ozai,” Katara breathes, her heart leaps into her throat and she bats her eyelashes, “What do you want with Ozai? He has no bending.”
“His bending is not what made him great,” the man says, “it was his leadership, it’s what he did.”
“And what is so wrong with what Zuko is doing?” Katara asks, avoiding the subject of Ozai, “He’s brought peace to the Fire Nation. Zuko has raised this country higher, there is peace, equality and prosperity.”
“Yes and we all hold hands with the other nations,” the man scoffs, rising up to his feet, “The Fire Nation is the most powerful, we belong at the top. And the pretender... he put’s water tribe scum by his side... no offence.”
“How is that ‘no offence’?” Katara scoffs, the man just shrugs.
Katara shifts in her manacles and glowers at the monster in front of her.
“Once you get Ozai, you’ll let us go?” Katara asks.
The man crouches down and takes out a key.
“My dear, I’ll take those off, there’s not a lot of water around and a lot of fire,” the man says, he unlocks Katara’s manacles, “I hope you know how foolish it would be to try and escape.”
The man takes off the metal that covers Katara’s hands, he places them aside and then binds Katara’s wrists in chain.
“Can’t be too trusting,” he winks, his cold, clammy hands biting into Katara’s skin as he licks his lips and looks into her eyes, “And to answer your question, no, we will not let you go. Once the pretender arrives, he too will be taken into custody, and the true Fire Lord will deal with you both as he sees fit.”
...
A new letter arrives, only a day later, this one has weight to it and when Zuko opens the letter, a lock of braided hair falls out with it.
Zuko’s heart falls to his knees, he knows that it’s Katara hair, it still smells faintly of lavender.
Sokka takes the letter, it slips easily from Zuko’s grasp.
“What does it say?” Aang asks, from where he sits at the meeting table.
“It says that for every week that Zuko stalls...” Sokka chokes back a fowl word and grinds his back teeth, “They’ll send another piece of Katara back.”
Zuko storms out of the room, his hand clenched tight around the lock of hair as he storms out of the palace, not saying a word to a single sole.
Zuko walks straight to the prison, he barges through the door and makes his way down the winding halls, ignoring the prisoners as they shout vile obscenities at him.
They’re all just white noise until he finds the one he seeks.
“We need to talk,” Zuko says, standing in front of his sister’s cell.
...
Day’s pass, Katara remains tied up, she is given little food, and less water. The heat from the rocks causes her pain, and to top it all off, she cannot seem to keep what little food they offer her down.
At night the air is cooler, at night the rocks lose most of their heat and Katara finds some small comfort, but she isn’t comfortable enough to sleep.
Someone comes into the tent, the flap is pushed aside and a small figure darts inside.
Katara bolts upright, her whole body going ridged as she fears the worst.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” a small voice says, so soft as it crouches down in front of her.
“Who are you?” Katara asks, peering through the darkness.
“My name is Pascal,” the voice says, and from the darkness Katara can make out the face of a young boy, “here,” he whispers, pressing a cup to Katara’s lips.
Katara feels the cold splash of water against her lips and she drinks without hesitation. Water runs out the corner of her mouth and she moans in delight as she feels the cold on her skin.
“Who are you?” Katara breathes, once the cup is empty.
“My mother used to be with them,” the boy says, whispering softly as he looks over his shoulder, “she wanted to leave, she knew it was wrong.”
The boy puts something else to Katara’s lips and Katara can smell the sweetness of fruit. Katara bites down and then tips her head back as she chews, she wants to cry as the flavours explode on her tongue.
“They took her away,” the boy continues and suddenly the food turns sour and gets caught in Katara’s throat as she processes what the boy is saying.
“I’m sorry,” Katara whispers, she looks to Pascal and she can see his soft features and his innocent eyes shining through the darkness, “Why are you helping me.”
“She taught me that bad things happen when good people do nothing,” the boy says, offering the fruit to Katara again.
Katara eats, only because she doesn’t know when she’ll get another chance.
But Katara looks to the little boy in front of her, she can see the pain in his eyes, she can see the kindness there too, she wants nothing more than to escape and take this child far away where no one can never hurt him again.
...
The next morning, Katara realises something awful, something that makes Katara’s blood turn cold and her heart stop beating.
Katara sits up as best she can as the leader of the rebel faction walks into her tent.
Katara strikes, she bends the water from her sweat off of her skin and knocks the leader down, she breaks the chains and makes a run for it.
Katara doesn’t get far, unfortunately it’s Mai’s father who catches her, he grabs her in a head lock, and no matter how hard she struggles, he will not let go.
“Filthy peasant,” the leader spits, looming over Katara as her knees start to shake.
“Don’t damage her face, boss,” Mai’s father says, noticing the leaders curled fist, “We don’t want the usurper flying off in rage when he sees her.”
The leader has smoke coiling out of his nose and flames licking at the side of his mouth as his fists tighten.
“I gave you trust,” he snarls, in the crowd, Katara finds the eyes of a little boy and she starts to weep, “And you betray me.”
Katara winces as she tries to escape, she looks to Pascal and lets her mind wonder for a moment, she cannot bear to look at the monsters around her so she finds the innocence in that boy's eyes.
The leader has Katara dragged back off to her tent, her hands are placed back in the metal tubes and then her hands are chained behind her back to the pole.
“Don’t worry,” the leader spits, “it will all be over soon.”
