Categories > Cartoons > Avatar: The Last Airbender > The First Cut
Chapter Three
0 reviewsIn-Progress. AU, pre-Northern Siege. Katara is taken aboard Zuko's ship as a hostage.
0Original
Chapter Three
One day passed and the prisoner was silent, the prince coldly uncaring. Two days and the prisoner glared at the guards, the prince uncomfortably silent at the reports. Three days and the prisoner whimpered in her sleep, the prince raving about stupid peasants. And when four days passed, she called for Iroh.
Though his nephew gave no reply to the news, the general knew him well enough to understand the slight relaxation in his shoulders.
He enters the brig with ginseng tea, an act rapidly becoming a ritual between captor and captive. Usually, she would not drink, but today her eyes speak of weakness, and she reaches for the cup with her knees drawn up to her chest. Her lips are dry and cracked, her movements slow and shaky, and she is fully aware of Iroh's eyes as her insides protest their emptiness in a loud groan.
"...I don't know where they are," she admits after a few sips of tea which soothe a dry throat but cannot heal the tremble in her tone. "We'd just-- returned from the... Northern Air Temple..."
He lets her take her pauses, kneeling at the bars with his own cup of tea, and wonders if each word stabs her with betrayal.
"We had stopped to-- pick up some supplies." Chains rattle as she sets her cup aside, arms wrapped tight around her knees, the pressure soothing to an empty belly. "Aa--... they were taking care of A-- the bison. Picking up what they could outside the market. I was shopping. And then S-- my br--... then you attacked and we ran. They never had a chance to tell me where they were going."
Her eyes look small with the lids half-drooped, tired though she sleeps plenty. Her skin is strangely pale for a girl so naturally dark and her movements are slow and clouded, constantly trembling. Her eyes, so blue with the fire of defiance days before, are... watered-down. Dark and distracted.
When the general speaks next, he struggles to keep his pity and the simple pain of looking at her from his voice. "Thank you, Katara. I will let Prince Zuko know."
Her nod is careless and her eyes have barely glanced at him since he came to her cell. But Iroh can see her perfectly when the water of her eyes travels the curve of her cheek. And he can hear the hatred in two words perfectly as they escape from gritted teeth.
"...Thank you."
+8+8+
Prince Zuko believes that respect must be earned through hard work, discipline, and constant example. By this reasoning, he respects few and those he does respect, deserve every ounce of his praise. His uncle, General Iroh, Dragon of the West, is one of these men.
Though Zuko still finds the opportunity to look at him like the crazy old man he can often be.
"...You want to feed her."
"Yes, nephew."
"For telling us she knows nothing."
"That is correct."
His good eye narrows, the other perpetually so, and he frowns a little. Not angry, but a certainly confused. "...Uncle, the Avatar has already mastered air and we have been following them steadily North. Don't you think, perhaps, she is lying and doesn't want us to know he's seeking a Water Master?"
When his uncle smiles, Zuko is reminded that even the crazy and the old have their moments of brilliance, masked behind a shield of incompetence they construct for themselves. "Of course, Prince Zuko. But since we already knew that, I thought it might be nice to reward her lies with a nice bowl of rice. Maybe even some sweet and sour sauce."
"Prince Zuko?"
The boy is saved from simply gaping at his uncle by Lieutenant Ji's words, and turns to regard the older man with a scowl that feels more comfortable than the open confusion he presented to Iroh. "What is it?"
The lieutenant is stiff-backed, his expression stern but these are not new attributes and Zuko thinks little of them. His tone, however, and his manner of speech, strained and clipped, sends up warning flags. "A Fire Nation ship has caught up to us, sir."
"/Which/," and Zuko manages to narrow both his good and bad eye, all thoughts of a starving hostage fleeing in favor of new concerns, "Fire Nation ship?"
"Admiral Zhao. Sir, he's requesting permission to board."
One day passed and the prisoner was silent, the prince coldly uncaring. Two days and the prisoner glared at the guards, the prince uncomfortably silent at the reports. Three days and the prisoner whimpered in her sleep, the prince raving about stupid peasants. And when four days passed, she called for Iroh.
Though his nephew gave no reply to the news, the general knew him well enough to understand the slight relaxation in his shoulders.
He enters the brig with ginseng tea, an act rapidly becoming a ritual between captor and captive. Usually, she would not drink, but today her eyes speak of weakness, and she reaches for the cup with her knees drawn up to her chest. Her lips are dry and cracked, her movements slow and shaky, and she is fully aware of Iroh's eyes as her insides protest their emptiness in a loud groan.
"...I don't know where they are," she admits after a few sips of tea which soothe a dry throat but cannot heal the tremble in her tone. "We'd just-- returned from the... Northern Air Temple..."
He lets her take her pauses, kneeling at the bars with his own cup of tea, and wonders if each word stabs her with betrayal.
"We had stopped to-- pick up some supplies." Chains rattle as she sets her cup aside, arms wrapped tight around her knees, the pressure soothing to an empty belly. "Aa--... they were taking care of A-- the bison. Picking up what they could outside the market. I was shopping. And then S-- my br--... then you attacked and we ran. They never had a chance to tell me where they were going."
Her eyes look small with the lids half-drooped, tired though she sleeps plenty. Her skin is strangely pale for a girl so naturally dark and her movements are slow and clouded, constantly trembling. Her eyes, so blue with the fire of defiance days before, are... watered-down. Dark and distracted.
When the general speaks next, he struggles to keep his pity and the simple pain of looking at her from his voice. "Thank you, Katara. I will let Prince Zuko know."
Her nod is careless and her eyes have barely glanced at him since he came to her cell. But Iroh can see her perfectly when the water of her eyes travels the curve of her cheek. And he can hear the hatred in two words perfectly as they escape from gritted teeth.
"...Thank you."
+8+8+
Prince Zuko believes that respect must be earned through hard work, discipline, and constant example. By this reasoning, he respects few and those he does respect, deserve every ounce of his praise. His uncle, General Iroh, Dragon of the West, is one of these men.
Though Zuko still finds the opportunity to look at him like the crazy old man he can often be.
"...You want to feed her."
"Yes, nephew."
"For telling us she knows nothing."
"That is correct."
His good eye narrows, the other perpetually so, and he frowns a little. Not angry, but a certainly confused. "...Uncle, the Avatar has already mastered air and we have been following them steadily North. Don't you think, perhaps, she is lying and doesn't want us to know he's seeking a Water Master?"
When his uncle smiles, Zuko is reminded that even the crazy and the old have their moments of brilliance, masked behind a shield of incompetence they construct for themselves. "Of course, Prince Zuko. But since we already knew that, I thought it might be nice to reward her lies with a nice bowl of rice. Maybe even some sweet and sour sauce."
"Prince Zuko?"
The boy is saved from simply gaping at his uncle by Lieutenant Ji's words, and turns to regard the older man with a scowl that feels more comfortable than the open confusion he presented to Iroh. "What is it?"
The lieutenant is stiff-backed, his expression stern but these are not new attributes and Zuko thinks little of them. His tone, however, and his manner of speech, strained and clipped, sends up warning flags. "A Fire Nation ship has caught up to us, sir."
"/Which/," and Zuko manages to narrow both his good and bad eye, all thoughts of a starving hostage fleeing in favor of new concerns, "Fire Nation ship?"
"Admiral Zhao. Sir, he's requesting permission to board."
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