Again, sorry they haven’t been particularly fluffy as of late. I don’t plan these things, they just kinda pop into my head and I roll with it.
Just letting you all know, I haven’t forgotten about my original Kataang intentions. However, I’m hoping this story will continue for a while so I’ve begun to make it a little more interesting. You’ll see what I mean.
I hope you still like them though. And continue to like them, obviously.
Anyhoo, I’ll get back to the story now. Enjoy!
-Ellie
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“Why didn’t you just take him?”
Zuko jumped, then reigned himself in. He slid his Dao swords carefully back in their sheathes and gently placed them on the wooden table in front of him. Ready to shout for his guards to put her back in her cell, the Prince turned around.
But he was momentarily caught off guard by the sight of Katara leaning with her hip against the doorframe, her arms crossed across her chest. She’d taken her plait out, and her hair now cascaded down her back in chocolate waves. Ringlets framed her oval face, and the dark blue of her clothes brought out the purplish hues of her eyes.
Whatever Zuko was about to say was choked in his throat, and he had to cough slightly to get rid of it. For a second, his mind scrambled to find something to say before deciding on “What?”
He rolled his eyes. Smooth, Zuko.
Katara, fully aware of the affect she was having on him, sighed and repeated herself.
“You knew where he was. Why didn’t you just take Aang when you had the chance?”
Zuko hadn’t been expecting this. None of his other prisoners had ever questioned his motives before.
“I…didn’t want to risk being incapacitated. Normally, three on one wouldn’t be a problem. But when one of them is the Avatar…” He knew he watch clutching at straws, but he couldn’t seem to stop.
“What about when we were asleep?” Katara questioned again.
Zuko’s fiery eyes narrowed in suspicion, his scar crumpling into an even more grotesque version. From the other side of the room, Katara couldn’t help but wonder how he’d got it. Obviously, she’d heard stories of the Fire Prince’s marred features, but gossip in the Southern Water Tribe was about as reliable and accurate as asking a squirrel-frog what time it was. Nobody knew what had actually happened, and Katara was pretty sure the rumours weren’t anywhere close to the truth. She made a mental note to ask him at some point.
“Why do you keep pushing this?” Zuko rebuked stiffly.
“No reason,” Katara replied lightly, slowly walking closer until she stood right in front of the Prince. “Just wanted to know.”
Then, with a swish of hazel hair, she turned and slipped out of the room.
Zuko stood paralysed as Katara’s sweet scent rolled over him, watching as she left. Somewhere in the depths of his confused mind, the Prince acknowledged that Mai had never made him feel like this. And that, yet again, he was in trouble.
***
“Oof!” Iroh grunted as he walked into the girl.
Katara landed with a bump on the floor of the metal ship.
“I apologise, Princess,” he said as he offered a hand to help her up.
“It’s alri- Wait, what did you call me?”
The Dragon of the West smiled a secretive smile and pulled her up. But as he did so, Iroh leaned in towards her slightly and whispered in her ear, “Left hand corner, by the water,” before sauntering away in the opposite direction.
For five minutes, the Water Tribe girl stood in the narrow corridor puzzling over what the old man had said. It made no sense. By the water? What did he mean? Muttering under her breath, Katara walked back to her cell.
***
The moonlight beat through the cubby window and ignited the girl’s shining eyes as they flew open. Taking an ever-present pin out of her plait, Katara smiled. She knew what she had to do.
