The First Cut, cnt.
The First Cut
-Prologue
-Chapter One
-Chapter Two
-Chapter Three
-Chapter Four
- Chapter Five
Being presented in the dining hall, while a terrifying thought all on its own, is nothing compared to the reality. Katara expects to be ignored, spoken to roughly, ordered about and then ignored again. Her duties include trying to step lightly in robes too long and carry things with sleeves too big and to always make sure Zuko's teacup is full. She is not required to talk or look at anyone, and Iroh warns her that conversation will most likely be dull.
The tension that suddenly enters the old man's shoulders as they move through the halls, slight as it is, is still a warning in her head.
Zuko kneels at the table, his back ramrod straight, hands folded tightly in his lap. She assumes his eyes are narrowed, but at the moment can only see his scar; the scowl is plain enough to see, though, and the fact that Zuko scowls at someone not herself, Sokka, or Aang isn't making her eager to meet the newcomer.
No one is speaking as they near the room and Iroh stops just inside the doorway, leaving Katara a few paces behind him, unable to see the other. She knows of him, of Zhao, from Aang mostly, but since he was reluctant to give many details on his capture, she knew little more than his being a 'big, stupid jerk.'
From Aang, she felt that was a serious insult.
The general clears his throat softly and Katara has the pleasure of seeing Zuko startle, turning sharply to face them. But pleasure or no, she's not particularly happy about the frown he sets on her, even without being able to see her entirely. Rising, Zuko walks to meet them, and the frown deepens when Iroh steps aside to reveal the girl behind him.
"What did you do?" Zuko hisses softly, eyeing her from the floppy chignon of her hair right down to bare toes she hastily covers with the robe. "She looks ridiculous."
He doesn't see her return scowl, nor her burning face, too busy turning his gaze to Iroh. "I did what I could with limited supplies, Prince Zuko. Perhaps at the next market, I could--"
Zuko makes a noise, not quite a sigh, aggravated and frowning again. He glances at her and she glares back, wondering if he can see what this is doing to her in her eyes. Assuming he would care if he could.
He only glares back and Katara remembers her other instruction is to be 'demure.' Dropping her gaze first is almost painful and her only reward is his hand outstretched to her, an offer she's been told to accept.
She slips her hand in his and is shocked to find how warm he is, almost snatching her fingers back out of surprise. But his hand closes around hers tightly, a warning, and he's already leading them back into the dining room.
"So this is the Waterbender." The voice is odd, amused and harsh at the same time, arrogant. Her chin rises before she thinks and his face is more startling than his voice.
There is something in his features, she realizes, that makes her stare at him so, dissect the gold of his eyes, the length of his hair, the gray of his sideburns. There is something, a far-away blink of light she tries to grasp but can't quite reach.
The scent of sulfur is suddenly thick in her throat and she thinks she coughs without ever taking her eyes from his.
It is only when the man rises that Katara moves and, for once, she's grateful for Zuko's nearness. His movement to place himself between Katara and the advancing admiral hides her automatic step back away from him.
Her eyes drop back to the ground but she can feel the tension and Zhao's gaze upon her like a living thing. Before he speaks, she is aware he's noticed the leather gloves with their unbreakable locks. "You have her restrained, Prince Zuko? You can't even control your own concubine?"
His smirk, much like Zuko's scowl, is something she can see well enough in her mind; there is no temptation to look up. Still, in the slight pause that follows, she wonders if the prince had given any thought at all toward explaining the gloves.
It's Iroh that speaks up, nearly making her jump as he steps up beside her, almost forgotten at her back. His gentle words calm her almost immediately and, Fire Nation or no, she'll take what calm she can get in this situation. "Ah, well, my nephew has always enjoyed a challenge, Admiral. It shouldn't be surprising that he'd choose a tigress over a house cat."
Zuko chokes and Katara feels her face heat; she wonders how Iroh manages to say these things without his gentle smile slipping into a grin of full-blown amusement.
+8+8+
Dinner is not as boring as Iroh predicted and Katara finds herself fascinated. Not by the words; no, that's dull, the Admiral blathering on about this mission or that, Zuko's stony silence or grunted replies when Zhao waits for one, Iroh's soothing comments that keep the tension tight, but unsnapped. What interests her are the tones and the reactions. The Admiral is, to put it bluntly, smarmy and this is a new concept for the Waterbender. Added fun: his words seem to jab at the prince specifically and Katara amuses herself by watching, from the corner of her downcast eyes, the muscle in his jaw twitch, his pale hands grow white as they clench under the table.
Observing like this, she often misses her cue to refill his cup, but never the glare he sends her way when he decides he's thirsty. It's interesting, she thinks as she tries not to trail her sleeves in the food, that he looks at her with more ire now than he ever did in the brig.
+8+8+
As dinner comes to a close, Zuko begins to relax. Not a great deal, but knowing that Zhao will soon be on his ship and far away from the prince lessens the scowl.
This is, of course, prior to when Zhao decides to move the conversation from his many achievements to the girl sitting at Zuko's right. And while the prince is a little uneasy at the way the admiral's eyes rest on her, it is her tension he notices. Compliments given on her beauty, on her manner, her grace-- each one brings a tightness to her shoulders that Zuko did not even think to expect.
He doesn't notice when her own tight-wire begins to snap. Zhao is blathering on, something about his own experience with concubines, and begins to say something Zuko remembers hearing since childhood: "Of course, Water women do make the very best, ah, 'companions'..."
The girl stiffens, chin nearly snapping aloud as it lifts sharply, eyes blazing despite their color and a hand Zuko can only assume is pointing somewhere within that voluminous robe starts to rise as she spits out, "You--!"
His hand is on her knee without a thought and he doesn't try to keep his touch gentle. He finds a pressure point and squeezes; her words are cut off with a squeak, nearly doubling up where she kneels.
Zuko doesn't look at her again, but is more aware of her eyes on him, the tightness of her muscles beneath his hand, than anything else in the room. He finds Zhao's eyes and tries to concentrate. "If you're through upsetting my property, Admiral, I think we can safely call this dinner over."
Smirking, Zhao looks no different than usual, but there is a confidence in his expression that means he believes he's actually won something. Zuko isn't entirely sure what, but is also aware now is not the time to find out, releasing the Waterbender's knee and starting to stand.
"Thank you for the meal, my prince." Zuko turns, out of courtly manners alone, to look at Zhao while he speaks, regarding his smirk and imagining creative ways to burn it off. "Same time tomorrow, perhaps?"
Or perhaps imagination will become reality as Zuko frowns and feels cold again. "Tomorrow?"
"Well, we are traveling the same way, and our goal is similar. It makes sense to stay together. Join forces."
The Waterbender rose at some point, most likely with the prompting of Iroh, and Zuko senses her at his side and slightly behind him. He moves automatically, a hand held out to her, though his eyes never stray from Zhao's, and nods stiffly.
Her fingers are cool, but he hardly notices with the admiral in the room.
"Ah, and one more thing, Prince Zuko?" Zhao's attempts at smiling are more mocking than his smirks, as if he expects the looker to believe he is anything close to innocent. "...What is her name?"
Zuko scoffs before he can tell himself not to, glaring at the admiral and trying to understand the point of the question. Knowing her name won't help him prove that she isn't Zuko's - he's only had her four days and his father wouldn't keep a record of his women at this point, even if he had claimed her earlier. There is no possible reason the prince can fathom that Zhao would need this information.
Except, he realizes, that Zuko doesn't actually know her name.
He falls silent and while Zuko rarely curses his inability to lie, he curses it now when his scowl falls and he feels his expression twist into confusion. It doesn't matter if his eyes narrow a moment later - Zhao can see the play of emotions on his face and seems all the more smug for it.
Movement against his hand reminds him there is a girl beside him, her fingers squeezing his gently. He starts to glance at her, but her nails pinch his skin - a warning. Her whisper is so soft, he nearly misses it, and so urgent, he nearly bends to hear it better. But he doesn't want to get pinched again.
"Katara."
"Katara," he echoes, and his scowl returns, even if Zhao's smirk stays in place. "Her name is Katara." Considering his duty finished, Zuko turns and starts to lead the Waterbender-- Katara from the room.
He ignores Zhao's last, simpering words: "A pleasure to meet you, Katara."
Her fingers tremble.
-Prologue
-Chapter One
-Chapter Two
-Chapter Three
-Chapter Four
- Chapter Five
Being presented in the dining hall, while a terrifying thought all on its own, is nothing compared to the reality. Katara expects to be ignored, spoken to roughly, ordered about and then ignored again. Her duties include trying to step lightly in robes too long and carry things with sleeves too big and to always make sure Zuko's teacup is full. She is not required to talk or look at anyone, and Iroh warns her that conversation will most likely be dull.
The tension that suddenly enters the old man's shoulders as they move through the halls, slight as it is, is still a warning in her head.
Zuko kneels at the table, his back ramrod straight, hands folded tightly in his lap. She assumes his eyes are narrowed, but at the moment can only see his scar; the scowl is plain enough to see, though, and the fact that Zuko scowls at someone not herself, Sokka, or Aang isn't making her eager to meet the newcomer.
No one is speaking as they near the room and Iroh stops just inside the doorway, leaving Katara a few paces behind him, unable to see the other. She knows of him, of Zhao, from Aang mostly, but since he was reluctant to give many details on his capture, she knew little more than his being a 'big, stupid jerk.'
From Aang, she felt that was a serious insult.
The general clears his throat softly and Katara has the pleasure of seeing Zuko startle, turning sharply to face them. But pleasure or no, she's not particularly happy about the frown he sets on her, even without being able to see her entirely. Rising, Zuko walks to meet them, and the frown deepens when Iroh steps aside to reveal the girl behind him.
"What did you do?" Zuko hisses softly, eyeing her from the floppy chignon of her hair right down to bare toes she hastily covers with the robe. "She looks ridiculous."
He doesn't see her return scowl, nor her burning face, too busy turning his gaze to Iroh. "I did what I could with limited supplies, Prince Zuko. Perhaps at the next market, I could--"
Zuko makes a noise, not quite a sigh, aggravated and frowning again. He glances at her and she glares back, wondering if he can see what this is doing to her in her eyes. Assuming he would care if he could.
He only glares back and Katara remembers her other instruction is to be 'demure.' Dropping her gaze first is almost painful and her only reward is his hand outstretched to her, an offer she's been told to accept.
She slips her hand in his and is shocked to find how warm he is, almost snatching her fingers back out of surprise. But his hand closes around hers tightly, a warning, and he's already leading them back into the dining room.
"So this is the Waterbender." The voice is odd, amused and harsh at the same time, arrogant. Her chin rises before she thinks and his face is more startling than his voice.
There is something in his features, she realizes, that makes her stare at him so, dissect the gold of his eyes, the length of his hair, the gray of his sideburns. There is something, a far-away blink of light she tries to grasp but can't quite reach.
The scent of sulfur is suddenly thick in her throat and she thinks she coughs without ever taking her eyes from his.
It is only when the man rises that Katara moves and, for once, she's grateful for Zuko's nearness. His movement to place himself between Katara and the advancing admiral hides her automatic step back away from him.
Her eyes drop back to the ground but she can feel the tension and Zhao's gaze upon her like a living thing. Before he speaks, she is aware he's noticed the leather gloves with their unbreakable locks. "You have her restrained, Prince Zuko? You can't even control your own concubine?"
His smirk, much like Zuko's scowl, is something she can see well enough in her mind; there is no temptation to look up. Still, in the slight pause that follows, she wonders if the prince had given any thought at all toward explaining the gloves.
It's Iroh that speaks up, nearly making her jump as he steps up beside her, almost forgotten at her back. His gentle words calm her almost immediately and, Fire Nation or no, she'll take what calm she can get in this situation. "Ah, well, my nephew has always enjoyed a challenge, Admiral. It shouldn't be surprising that he'd choose a tigress over a house cat."
Zuko chokes and Katara feels her face heat; she wonders how Iroh manages to say these things without his gentle smile slipping into a grin of full-blown amusement.
+8+8+
Dinner is not as boring as Iroh predicted and Katara finds herself fascinated. Not by the words; no, that's dull, the Admiral blathering on about this mission or that, Zuko's stony silence or grunted replies when Zhao waits for one, Iroh's soothing comments that keep the tension tight, but unsnapped. What interests her are the tones and the reactions. The Admiral is, to put it bluntly, smarmy and this is a new concept for the Waterbender. Added fun: his words seem to jab at the prince specifically and Katara amuses herself by watching, from the corner of her downcast eyes, the muscle in his jaw twitch, his pale hands grow white as they clench under the table.
Observing like this, she often misses her cue to refill his cup, but never the glare he sends her way when he decides he's thirsty. It's interesting, she thinks as she tries not to trail her sleeves in the food, that he looks at her with more ire now than he ever did in the brig.
+8+8+
As dinner comes to a close, Zuko begins to relax. Not a great deal, but knowing that Zhao will soon be on his ship and far away from the prince lessens the scowl.
This is, of course, prior to when Zhao decides to move the conversation from his many achievements to the girl sitting at Zuko's right. And while the prince is a little uneasy at the way the admiral's eyes rest on her, it is her tension he notices. Compliments given on her beauty, on her manner, her grace-- each one brings a tightness to her shoulders that Zuko did not even think to expect.
He doesn't notice when her own tight-wire begins to snap. Zhao is blathering on, something about his own experience with concubines, and begins to say something Zuko remembers hearing since childhood: "Of course, Water women do make the very best, ah, 'companions'..."
The girl stiffens, chin nearly snapping aloud as it lifts sharply, eyes blazing despite their color and a hand Zuko can only assume is pointing somewhere within that voluminous robe starts to rise as she spits out, "You--!"
His hand is on her knee without a thought and he doesn't try to keep his touch gentle. He finds a pressure point and squeezes; her words are cut off with a squeak, nearly doubling up where she kneels.
Zuko doesn't look at her again, but is more aware of her eyes on him, the tightness of her muscles beneath his hand, than anything else in the room. He finds Zhao's eyes and tries to concentrate. "If you're through upsetting my property, Admiral, I think we can safely call this dinner over."
Smirking, Zhao looks no different than usual, but there is a confidence in his expression that means he believes he's actually won something. Zuko isn't entirely sure what, but is also aware now is not the time to find out, releasing the Waterbender's knee and starting to stand.
"Thank you for the meal, my prince." Zuko turns, out of courtly manners alone, to look at Zhao while he speaks, regarding his smirk and imagining creative ways to burn it off. "Same time tomorrow, perhaps?"
Or perhaps imagination will become reality as Zuko frowns and feels cold again. "Tomorrow?"
"Well, we are traveling the same way, and our goal is similar. It makes sense to stay together. Join forces."
The Waterbender rose at some point, most likely with the prompting of Iroh, and Zuko senses her at his side and slightly behind him. He moves automatically, a hand held out to her, though his eyes never stray from Zhao's, and nods stiffly.
Her fingers are cool, but he hardly notices with the admiral in the room.
"Ah, and one more thing, Prince Zuko?" Zhao's attempts at smiling are more mocking than his smirks, as if he expects the looker to believe he is anything close to innocent. "...What is her name?"
Zuko scoffs before he can tell himself not to, glaring at the admiral and trying to understand the point of the question. Knowing her name won't help him prove that she isn't Zuko's - he's only had her four days and his father wouldn't keep a record of his women at this point, even if he had claimed her earlier. There is no possible reason the prince can fathom that Zhao would need this information.
Except, he realizes, that Zuko doesn't actually know her name.
He falls silent and while Zuko rarely curses his inability to lie, he curses it now when his scowl falls and he feels his expression twist into confusion. It doesn't matter if his eyes narrow a moment later - Zhao can see the play of emotions on his face and seems all the more smug for it.
Movement against his hand reminds him there is a girl beside him, her fingers squeezing his gently. He starts to glance at her, but her nails pinch his skin - a warning. Her whisper is so soft, he nearly misses it, and so urgent, he nearly bends to hear it better. But he doesn't want to get pinched again.
"Katara."
"Katara," he echoes, and his scowl returns, even if Zhao's smirk stays in place. "Her name is Katara." Considering his duty finished, Zuko turns and starts to lead the Waterbender-- Katara from the room.
He ignores Zhao's last, simpering words: "A pleasure to meet you, Katara."
Her fingers tremble.