Tempest in a Teacup: Falling for the First Time
+falling for the first time+
On the day prince Zuko, heir to the Fire Nation and future Fire Lord and Firebending Master, turns ten, he almost drowns.
It is a rather stupid incident, really. One of his birthday gifts had been a custom suit of armor. The formal design of the armor meant that it was too bulky to be practical for real battle but it was real armor and the idea of letting go of something he has wanted for so long is not appealing. Usually, no child is required to spend a full day of ceremonies in a stifling cocoon of metal plating. Not even a prince. However, Zuko is more than a prince; Zuko is Zuko. His army of attendants, painfully familiar with the force of the boy’s tantrums, surrendered to his insistence without struggle. Let him wear it till it wears him out, they decide. What’s the worst that could happen? He’ll fall into the garden pond, ha ha.
…Ha.
It happens.
One minute he is running across the bridge, unwatched and free, the next there is misstep, pitching one foot behind the other and down he goes. First there is only a simple confusion-where did the bridge go?-the rush of gravity whistling past, until his body breaks the water’s surface and Zuko goes under.
The water is deep.
Ironic that the future commander of the strongest navy in the world is rendered helpless in the water. Ironic, but true. For a moment, desperation is enough to send him back to the surface. Unfortunately, it is not enough to keep him there when thirty pounds of beautifully crafted tradition are hell-bent on dragging him below the cool, dark water. Strange that he is surrounded by water and yet his chest burns fiercely. Powerless, suffocating, and utterly furious, Zuko fights his fall with every sinking inch.
He’s going to die-stupid-cold-water-stupid- -water everywhere-going to die-die-father!-Idon’twanttodieNo!
No.
He doesn’t die.
Suddenly, a great force shoves him upward through the water. Light and air tear away the darkness and Zuko crashes onto the earth, chest burning still. A hard tug and the helmet vanishes off his head, making it easier to turn over and vomit the water. Out, out, out, someone chants, hitting his back hard enough to make a distinct thumping sound against the armor plating. Out, out, out. Zuko’s head reels and he’s probably hallucinating because he can actually feel the water surge up his throat and out. A miserable century of retching later, he manages to get an elbow under him and sit up.
He looks at the stranger besides him.
The stranger looks back.
The stranger is a girl but that’s not the strangest thing about her. In his groggy state, it’s difficult for Zuko to identify exactly what is so obviously out of place about the girl in front of him; he only knows that something most definitely is.
She’s small, and clearly younger than Zuko, probably eight or seven. In the fading light of early evening it is hard to tell the exact color of her skin but he thinks it may be darker than his, darker in a way he’s not used to seeing. Her hair is dark too, upswept in a standard chignon common to very young nobility, or among common girls. The silk of her short jacket shines wetly, expensive, although the outfit itself is cut simply and missing the ornate embroidery particular to court noblewomen. Overall, though, there is nothing truly unconventional about her shape.
It’s the eyes, he thinks. There’s something weird about her eyes. They’re…
“That was really dumb,” is the first thing she tells him; it’s not the type of introduction the crown prince of the Fire Nation is used to. “Why did you jump into the water dressed like that?”
Zuko opens his mouth to growl that he didn’t jump, he fell, but somehow that sounds even more embarrassing-another bout of heaving shreds his voice. He coughs, chest burning with the effort to breathe past the coldness swallowed, and feels a light hand lay upon him.
“Don’t fight it. Just let it out.” Her voice has something, an accent or lack of, that he can’t place. Something strange, unexpected. Foreign. “You’re going to be okay. Let it out.”
More dry heaves and aching, then a few sore breaths and coughs, and then Zuko is aware of the girl removing his armor. Her fingers dig into the elaborate knots keeping the pieces together with resolve, tugging until one arm is free and then the other. A soldier’s daughter, he decides. Whose?
“What are you doing here?” is the first thing he says to her. “The inner gardens are forbidden to outsiders.” The last word seems particularly appropriate. “Nobody can be here without permission.”
“I have permission,” she says calmly. “Do you?”
A ludicrous question. “I don’t need permission.”
“Why not?”
Ludicrous and insane. “Princes don’t need permission for anything.” Which is almost nearly true and besides she’s…looking at him funny.
“You’re the prince?”
“Of course,” Zuko snaps. Well, he tries to but there’s still water lodged in his nose; the proclamation turns into a sneeze. A wet one.
“Oh.” She doesn’t look impressed, or awed, or surprised; instead, she looks thoughtful. “I thought you’d be taller.” One small hand reaches out to touch his sodden hair. “And drier…Prince Zuko.” She adds the last part with measured hesitation, slowly, as if testing the words. Abruptly, the hand testing his hair flows down to touch his cheek; as gentle fingers settle over the suddenly sensitive skin, Zuko realizes that the weird thing about her eyes is that they’re the softest, brightest, clearest blue he’s ever seen. He also realizes that a true prince does not tolerate being pawed by strange little girls and he should definitely be doing something about it. Really.
Except…
The warmth of her hand is a shocking contrast after the coldness of the pond. For a moment, he feels trapped between a force and a possibility, between the familiar and the unknown, between her hand and his skin. Zuko doesn’t realize it, not yet, but in that moment he occupies the temperamental safety of escaping one twist of fate only to sink into another.
“Who are you?” The touch drops away, the warmth vanishes, and the moment yields way to reality. Zuko is cold, confused, and missing a wrist guard from his armor. The girl stands, the prince’s ornate helmet held between her hands, and looks towards the water. Away from him.
“I guess I’m nobody,” she says.
That is how Katara meets Zuko.
~*~