Well, unless I get to writing some more of it this is the last installment I have. (I'm thinking I may continue on with it anyways. What do you think?)
3
The sun was setting fast as they drifted down the river, Zuko's search boat chugging alongside the larger pirate ship. The red tinted clouds and orange blaze of the dying sun reminded Zuko of the day he had found the necklace. When he had watched the sunset, holding the cool and strange comfort in his palm, he never expected the necklace to ever be of any real use.
His eyes scanned the riversides. The captain made some comment about checking the woods. 'Idiot,' Zuko thought to himself, but he said out loud, "They stole a waterbending scroll, right?"
"Yeah," the captain said.
"Then they'll be on the water," Zuko retorted. He was ashamed to have had to accept the help of such lowlifes, but though he'd have been loath to admit it, these men probably had more skill in the area of combat than his crew. That and the fact that they were motivated by their own greed made them formidable allies.
The sky had turned from the fiery light of sunset, to the deep cobalt of midnight before they heard a voice echoing over the dark water. "Come on water, work with me!" came a girl's exasperated voice. 'Poor, little idiot,' Zuko thought, 'trying to teach herself. What's a bender with no master?' A memory flashed in his mind. He was about eight years old, standing on one leg on top flaming coals. He wobbled and swayed, quite the polar opposite of his calm, younger sister, Azula, who seemed completely relaxed in the crane stance over hot embers. His master was scowling at him as he tried to ignore Azula's smug smiles. He remembered falling, scorching his hands and legs, the humiliation of being called out in front of the rest of the dojo, the sting of his master's hand against his check. He remembered the burn of the salt his master forced him to rub into the raw wounds, the pain of moving and training those next few weeks, but those burns were shallow, unintentional, not the kind that would scar a firebender. Not like his father's...
His thoughts broke off as the landed. He still could hear her voice, rebuking herself, the water, the scroll, then she grew silent. Most likely the noisy metallic scraping of the boat on the rocky shore had startled her. They had to move fast. The men split up, slipping silently through the trees, surround the young girl. The first man to grab her was a tall, heavily muscled man. "No! Let go of me!" she shouted, her arms flailing, sending a strong stream of water into the giant's face. Zuko was slightly impressed, she could at least hold her own. Not a petty feat for a masterless bender.
She ran, almost stumbling, into the darkness away from the pirate. Her head turned over her shoulder just a little too long, she found herself running straight at the young prince. He caught her by the wrist. 'Such tiny wrist,' he noted to himself. "I'll save you from the pirates," he said in a low voice, his face harsh and cruel. He could see the fear in her eyes. It pleased him, that fear, that recognition. She struggled weakly against him, her blue eyes filled with panic, but, although he noted that in the moonlight she was as Iroh had said 'easy on the eye,' she was still his prisoner, still his best chance at regaining his honor. 'Focus, Zuko!' his mind demanded. He tied her to a nearby tree, careful to secure her hands behind her back, hopefully enough to keep her from bending.
At first he tried to be firm with her, to demand she tell him the location of the Avatar. She was, after all, in no position to argue, but he did not count on her stubbornness. "Go jump in the river!" she growled. For a moment he contemplated roasting her on the tree right then, but he had one last trick left. He hadn't wanted to have to use the necklace, partially for the stupid, sentimental reasons he couldn't explain, partially because it seemed like a waste of a very good bargaining tool, using it so early. The girl seemed unswayable though and, never having been very good with people in general and girls specifically, he decided to play his gambit.
"Try to understand," he said in what he hoped was a gentle voice, "I need to capture him to restore something I lost, my honor. Perhaps, in exchange, I can restore something you lost." He was so close to her cheek he could have kissed her. His heart raced. She smelled sweet and earthy, her skin, smooth and brown, exotic, forbidden. He pulled the necklace from his pocket, holding it around her neck, smiling in spite of himself at the soft, blue glow of the stone resting against her neck in the moonlight. Then she said something that startled him, "My mother's necklace... How did you get that?"
Her mother's necklace, his soul danced, she wasn't engaged. He couldn't understand why this pleased him so, but it did none the less. "I didn't steal it, if that's what your wondering," he said, almost teasing her. The little thief.
'Focus!' his mind shouted, shaking as though from dream. "Tell me where he is," Zuko demanded.
"No," she said defiantly. Her voice was full of fire.
"Enough of this necklace garbage. You promised the scroll," the pirate captain growled, snapping Zuko back to his original goal yet again.
"I wonder how much this is worth..." Zuko said, holding the scroll in one hand just above a fireball in the other. He relished the look of awe in the Water Tribe peasant's face as he bent the captain to his will, the slightest glint of desire, although he knew it was the scroll she coveted.
In the stillness just before the dawn he found himself standing at the opening of the woods with only Iroh and a young hostage girl, as his men had gone off in a different direction from the pirates to search for the Avatar as well. The girl scowled at him harshly. For a moment he held her gaze, reveling in the deep sapphire color of her irises. They were cool and violent as the ocean he had lived on for close to three years. Even when she was looking at him with murder in her eyes, he couldn't quite reciprocate those feelings, it was odd for him since, being male, he prided himself on his insensitivity. "What are you staring at?" she spat at him, breaking the trance he'd once again found himself in.
"Water Tribe filth," he growled back. Behind his back Iroh shook his head with a deep sigh, no wonder his nephew had never had a woman. There in front of him was a beautiful, if somewhat misadventurous, girl, and he called her filth, the boy would never learn. 'More flies with honey, Zuko," the old man thought. wearily.
"Filth!" the girl shrieked, Iroh saw the river tremble. "Filth! How dare you, you spoiled, arrogant, pathetic excuse for nobility!" The water churned harder.
"I am not pathetic!" Zuko shouted within inches of her face. Years of humiliation and ridicule burst forth to the surface. Was it so easy to read his shortcomings, that even this commoner could see what practically everyone from his kingdom had so long whispered?
"Tsk! Whatever you say Prince Zuko," Katara said then she turned her head haughtily away from him and looked out over the river. Zuko's shook with anger, his fist clinched so hard his nails dug into his palms. Katara, for her part, focused hard on the reflection of the moon on the rippling water. She wished with all her might that she were a powerful water bender, capable of attacking her captures, of beating them. Only water can truly kill fire.
She stayed like that until the sun rose; it's harsh light obscuring the delicate moon from her eyes. Her neck was sore from holding that position for hours, but she wouldn't look at them again. They embodied everything she hated about the Fire Nation, and even if she couldn't fight them, she certainly wouldn't entertain them.