Arctic Flower

One Day, I'll Be Laughing At Your Ashes

A guard knocked on the door about twenty minutes later. With a slight bow of the head, he presented Katara with a tray of food.
Katara smiled at him. "Thank you," she said, taking the tray from him.
He bowed again, backed away, then locked the door.
The tray contained a plate of steamed buns, a bowl of dumplings in broth, and a water pitcher. Katara started with the water, chugging down half the pitcher in one gulp. Some of her strength and vitality returned.  She felt strong enough to try to hold down some food. Breaking one of the steamed buns in half, she put it in her mouth- it tasted sweet and doughy.

Next, she tried one of the dumplings. It was stuffed with pork, shrimp, and water chestnuts. Katara quickly gobbled up all the dumplings and then slurped down the spicy broth. She couldn't remember eating anything more delicious, not even Gran-Gran's stewed sea prunes. 

Lulled into a blissful stupor, Katara had started to nod off when a different guard arrived with hot water for washing. He placed the pitcher and basin on the table where Zuko had cleaned up earlier. There was also a change of clothes left for her on the bed. The only thing they could find to fit her was a cabin boy's uniform consisting of a plain and utilitarian tunic and leggings. Very well, Katara was a prisoner on a warship, not some Ba Sing Se debutante. 
Katara rose from the bed and poured steaming water into the washbasin. Feeling stronger after rest and proper nourishment, she decided to try out her bending. She stood on the wooden floor, stripped of her parka, robe, leggings, and bindings, and summoned the water forth.
The steamy liquid made her skin tingle with pleasure. Just enough water soaked her body for her to be able to work up a lather with the soap the guard had been kind enough to leave for her. Its floral scent was lighter and more feminine than the sandalwood soap that Zuko used. She couldn't quite identify which flower this soap was supposed to smell it like, perhaps roses or lilies, but she liked it nonetheless.
Katara summoned more water to rinse off the suds. Using one of the washcloths would have taken less effort, but water-bending was a secret act of rebellion even when used for such a mundane task. If ever Katara pictured herself in a similar mess to the one she was in, she'd say that she would fight her way out and make a daring escape or die trying. But reality proved to be a disappointment. In her weakened physical state, attempting such a stunt might be considered suicide, and even at the best of times, her bending was erratic and untrained. She knew that if they caught her trying to escape, which they probably would, they'd torture and kill her, then destroy everything she cared about.
After Katara finished cleaning her body, she decided to do something with her hair. She untangled her braid and reached for the comb on the wash table. Whoever sent up these toiletries had snuck in a small vial of jasmine oil for her to work into her unruly, matted tresses and make them more manageable. Perhaps it had been the same person who'd chosen the floral soap? Who on the ship would care if she smelt like a flower garden or not? Why would they care? The vain part of Katara was glad they did care. If she was going to be a prisoner, at least she wouldn't smell like one.
The guard who'd brought the food earlier interrupted Katara as she dried herself off. "My Lady," he said.
Katara shrieked and held a towel to her chest.  If he opens that door, he's a dead man... and why in the name of Tui and La is he calling me "My Lady?"
"What?" she replied.
"General Iroh invites you to have tea with him in his study." 
There were plenty of other things Katara would rather do instead of having tea with some old Fire Nation general, eating yellow snow, and sticking a fish hook in her eye among them, but she probably had little choice in the matter.
"Very well," she groaned. "I'll be ready in about ten minutes."
Katara quickly bent the excess water out of her damp hair until it was there, then twisted it into a simple braid. The tunic they'd given her to was a bit tight at the bust, and the matching leggings were snug around the hips, but they would have to do. Fed, washed up, and wearing clean clothes, Katara felt almost human again.
She knocked on the cabin door to signal the guard. "Alright, I'm ready."