Chapter Text
/ / /
cold sun, shine your light
The first time Katara is struck by gold, it is cold and unyielding, much like its wielder. The shine of his eyes is made more prominent by the fire in his hand, but it's a mere reflection of a flame, with nothing to suggest there is any warmth to be found beneath the surface.
And judging by the circumstances they first meet in, Katara is more than inclined to believe that is, in fact, true. The icy landscape of her homeland may seem severe and unwelcoming to most, but the look in her enemy's eyes as he stands against the frozen background is infinitely colder.
He barely spares her a glance before yelling his demands to the confused villagers. He's after the Avatar.
And the Avatar goes with him, against Katara's protests.
"Head a course for the Fire Nation. I'm going home," she catches the hostile prince's command and instantly resolves to hate him by mere association with his warmongering country.
Katara stares at the armor of his retreating back, the orange air nomad robes of the boy she's just met disappearing behind the heavy metal of the ship. She feels hopeless in a way she has only felt once before in her life.
Then the ship is gone and with it, the world's last hope for peace.
/ / /
troubled youth, laugh while you can
For a person who is supposed to restore balance to the world, Katara thinks, Aang must be the most immature Avatar ever.
Somehow, she has found herself on the back of a flying bison, travelling around the world in what must be the biggest adventure of her life. And yet, she also finds herself assuming the role of a mother to both the last airbender and her pain of an older brother.
Their visit to Kyoshi Island only cements her conviction that such a role is sorely needed in their group. Her brother is rightfully getting his ass handed to him by a female warrior, while Aang is goofing off as if they don't have places to be. As if the weight of the world isn't on their shoulders.
She can allow boys to be boys for a brief moment, she thinks. She needs a break from her own incessant nagging as much as they do.
Then the fire troops arrive and she is reminded to never listen to her silly companions ever again. The Fire Prince's face is fittingly one of anger; that seems to be the only expression that feels at home on his features.
The gang flies away on Appa and he predictably follows. Katara watches the burning remains of Kyoshi, remains of havoc they've wreaked, and wonders if they are really the people who can appropriately rise to the task at hand. She's seventeen, her brother a year older, in body if not in mind, and Aang fifteen if you don't account for all the years he spent in the iceberg. They're too young, too frail, too naive to be dealing with any of this.
But no one else will do it for them.
Aang flails around on the unagi's back. The water douses the tall flames until all that is left is smoke and destruction.
This is all one can expect at the meeting of fire and water, she supposes. She'd do well to remember that.
And she does, with slight bitterness, but another thought accompanies the memory: the angry prince is just as young as them, even if he doesn't seem half as frail.
/ / /
got you right where I want you
Zuko is circling her like a shark taunting its dinner, but now it's becoming clearer than ever that he's out of his waters. Despite the harshness of his demands, he isn't cut out for intimidation. Katara sees that and stands her ground despite the fact that she is at an obvious disadvantage.
"Try to understand," he's saying and his voice is smooth even with his signature rasp. Katara suppresses the shivers that run down her spine – this is the closest she's ever heard the voice of her enemy – and huffs in indignation at the absurdity of his words, directed at her for the very first time. For all the things he's done against her and her friends, he has some nerve to even attempt appealing to her humanity. And she doesn't believe him to be that stupid – he must be aware, more than anyone, that she'll never understand him.
"I need to capture him to restore something I've lost. My honor," he continues and Katara almost laughs.
All this talk of honor is painfully ironic, considering he has her tied to a tree.
But then he's dangling her mother's necklace in front of her eyes and she can't restrain the snarl that escapes her lips. His face is smug, presumably at having broken her composure, and even in the dim moonlight she is slightly rattled by the persistent gleam in his eyes.
All the Fire Nation does is snuff out the light wherever it can reach. So how is it that their prince is the keeper of so vivid a color, even as he's reminding her of all she's lost because of his people?
His people. The combination of words sounds like the truth, enough to make her hate him on sheer principle. But for some reason it doesn't sit entirely right, not now that his face is right in front of her. Especially not when the scarred side of it is staring at her grotesquely.
Because he might be a prince, but she's heard rumors. She knows he's banished, even if she doesn't know why.
But Katara is tired, and Zuko is wasting his efforts. She doesn't know him, not even a little to be able to judge. But he's getting on her nerves, so she doesn't hesitate to. "Honor? You're as dishonorable as they come, Prince Zuko."
He looks astonished for a brief second, and then he's furious. She braces herself for his wrath, but then he just turns away. He doesn't look at her again for the rest of her capture.
She hears him bark something to the pirate crew before stalking off. She expected him to threaten to hurt her or even go as far as torture on his quest for information about the Avatar. But he doesn't.
She doesn't know whether to attribute that to her insolence or something else, but she's surprised all the same.
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