(Zutara) Hold it Gently; My Heart Burns For You

Imprisoned

She knows he's not hiding behind a nice façade when he lets the opportunity for any mocking jabs she once mistook for charm slide as the store peddlers shout in numbers and acronyms she doesn't understand. No smirks at her expense when she offers some nuts in exchange for a bag and is laughed away from the stall. Such commotion doesn't exist in the Southern Watertribe. She comes from a life of trading goods, furs, services, and food. It is strange being in a crowd where no one knows her face or cares for her purpose. In the Southern tribe, women she grew up with would have jostled her, young boys Sokka trained would run across her path. Here, Earth Kingdom citizens slam into her and offer not even a faint apology. It might not be the biggest city, but she does not like it. If not for Sokka and Aang, she'd feel so alone.

She could offer her services, maybe draw water from the morning grass for a thirsty vender. But Zuko's rasped warning always lingers at the back of her mind and makes her feel only a little hypocritical when she encourages Haru to Earthbend.

This town is his home. These are his people. She thought the risk wasn't as great for him. She was wrong.

~ ~ ~

Getting arrested for an element she doesn't even bend is far too easy. Raising her voice in front of the stuffy Fire Nation soldiers probably would have done it, but she needed to be taken to where they were keeping the Earthbenders.

Despite knowing Aang and Sokka are right behind her, Katara can't help but hunch into herself during the cart ride down to the harbour. When she's loaded onto the prison transport boat, water on all sides, she closes her eyes and lets her blood move in time with the calm, lapping against the hull. It barely helps. There's so much metal. Beneath her, around her, walking in between their prisoners. She knows fire is the only element which isn't part of nature; it has to come from the bender itself instead of the earth, the sky, or the water. But if they rise with the sun, burn with its heat, why surrounded themselves with so much cold metal?

They ferry them out as the sun begins to set, across inky water turned violent purple as twilight blends sea and sky together. If the ferry ride was long enough, Katara could have seen where the prison island was then risen her rebellion with the moon. But the rig is visible from the shore, a stab of dark shadow in an endless sunburst sky. They built it so close on purpose, not only as a constant reminder to the Earth Kingdom village, but also a constant torture to those captured. So close to land, yet separated by a bottomless, vast sea. Katara wishes she could feel smug at how ill prepared these firebenders are for her, but she feels so small crammed in between prisoners on the transport vessel.

Sokka and Aang are right behind. She keeps reminding herself until the boat docks in the prisons shadow. They make them climb up before removing their shackles. Katara almost slips, fingers numb against the slick, ice cold metal. When the prisoner below her halts her decent, he's cuffed with a hot fist for holding up the procession.

Everything about this place is a show of force. Bringing metal into the middle of the ocean. Forcing Earthbenders off their land. Look what we can do. Anytime we want. Do as we say, when we say. Or end up here.

The warden epitomises this philosophy, because only the Fire Nation can turn force into a way of life.

"Earthbenders. It is my pleasure to welcome you aboard my modest shipyard. I am your warden." Self-importance drips from the weasel faced man, the goatee not helping Katara picture anything but the twitching, opportunistic nose of a hungry rodent. "I prefer to think of you not as prisoners, but as honoured guests. And I hope you think of me as your humble and caring host."

Fat chance, Katara thinks. Next moment he's snapping a whip of fire at the man to her right because he interrupted his sanctimonious speech with a coughing fit. She glowers as the warden sends the poor man into the depths of this metal beast. "One week in solitary will improve his manners!"