Avatar The Last Airbender Fan Fiction ❯ Life Behind the Curtain ❯ The Mirror ( Chapter 2 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

Life Behind the Curtain
By: ChiaraBrie
Disclaimer:  I do not own any rights to Avatar: The Last Airbender. This story is purely fiction, from a fan.
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“Princes are fighters or administrators. Neither of those things do much to spread joy in the world. Whores, concubines, and catamites, on the other hand, are all about giving satisfaction. Now granted, sexual pleasure is a temporary sort of happiness, but it is better than a new tax or a sword in the gut.”¯Jill Knowles
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Chapter Two: The Mirror
There were many scenarios that Katara was prepared for.
She was taught in her lessons the many “interesting” ways men found pleasure.  There were some who enjoyed wining and dining, and who enjoyed the façade of a normal date. Others were enticed by role playing, where they would want their whore to become someone different from themselves.
But this time, as Prince Zuko drew the broad swords from his back and pointed their tips at her throat , Katara was at a loss.
“Who sent you? My father or my sister?” he snarled at her.  In the semi darkness of the room, it was hard for her to make out his features, but his physique was towering and intimidating.  She took this as a game. Perhaps he enjoyed combat to the point where he brought it into the bedroom. If the scar on his face was any indication of his fighting past, she wondered what the rest of him would be covered in.
Katara gave him a coy smile, trying to feed into him. She leaned forward on the bed, exposing more of her shoulder and the beginning of her cleavage before she spoke.
“My Prince, you seem so tense. Why don’t you lie down –”   But before she could finish, he threw one of his swords in the air which landed with a ping in the wall behind her, an inch from where her head had been.
“Answer me!” he screamed at her, and the candles in the room exploded with his fiery rage. For the first time since he entered she began to think he was really serious.  Did he not know how these things went? She understood he was a virgin, like she was, but surely all men must have some concept of what the deed entailed.
When Katara didn’t respond, he quickly advanced on the bed and threw away the sheets, revealing the empty mattress beneath. She was flung to the side, her robe rising up to her knee as Zuko frugally searched the bed for something he couldn’t find. Next, he pounced upon her with the swift and sure movements of a warrior on the battlefield. He grabbed her right wrist and raised her arm up until she was level to his face.
“If you have a weapon, I cannot imagine it would be concealed in this.” He indicated to her silk robe. “So you must be a powerful bender. Tell me, were you expecting to lower my guard before you attacked? Did they really think I would be so naïve?”
Katara’s eyes widened as she met his amber gaze for the first time, her heart pounding. When she finally found her voice, she heard her practiced sensual tone mask any discomfort she was feeling.
“I believe you are mistaken, My Prince. I am not here to—”
“Liar!” he screamed as he tightened his hold, eliciting a small gasp of pain from the water bender.
“Please, if you would only—”
“Another thinly veiled attempt to get rid of me again. It didn’t work the first time when he sent Azula to lovingly bring me home years ago, and it won’t work now. Tell me before—”
“Listen!” yelled Katara, raising her voice for the first time. The instant the word passed her lips she felt her heart drop into her stomach.
There it was again.
Insolence! Akane would yell at her. Disgrace! No man will ever want a woman so defiant, so disrespectful!
No matter how many times the old woman would starve her, or beat her, there was still a fire inside Katara that would not be put out. She was dutiful enough, but certain situations would play with her sense of self preservation to the point where she could not hold it in. And here again, on the most important night of her career, she let slip her darkest secret: she had a soul beyond what was paid for her body.
This was something she promised never to reveal to any client she would have, and in the arms of the banished Prince she had already failed.  But all hope was not lost. She could recover; she could play this into another game. It was what she was trained to do. Zuko finally took a moment to breathe when she screamed at him, giving Katara the opening she needed.
“I am no assassin, but if that is what you want from me, I will play my part.” Relief. She sounded like she was supposed to.
Suddenly the Prince’s eyes widened in shock, and  he lowered her arm. She watched as his eyes scanned the room, taking in the aroma and the setting. She could see on his face a wave of understanding.
When he finally let her go, Katara quickly brushed down her hair and straightened up. “Oh these games you want to play will be the end of my wardrobe,” she said as she indicated a tear in the silk.
But the Prince did not want to play with her. Instead, he pulled his sword from the wall, and sheathed his blades with a fluid movement.  His once fiery rage became a somber flame; he wouldn’t even look at her.
“I’m…sorry, if I hurt you.”
Despite everything he threw at her that night, those words were the only ones to truly startle her.  Was there true sentiment in his tone? Years of experience told her otherwise. And yet, as she watched this scarred man before her  open the window to let in the moonlight and begin folding the sheets that were strewn on the floor, she felt something stir inside of her that she hadn’t felt in a long time.
She had been fourteen, and was trapped on the island since she first arrived.  After months of subtle remarks and pitiful begging, Akane had finally allowed her a visit to the Fire Nation capital. She would be allowed to do the shopping for the school, but must only visit the market and come back. Never had she felt such excitement.
The day had begun calmly enough; the sun was shining and the sky was clear. She took the ferry over the tiny strip of sea where she found her destination sooner than she hoped. But fortune had smiled on her, and sent a horrific storm over the mainland as she shopped for her wares.
Others chose to run and hide from the onslaught, but not Katara. She reveled in her element, and the prolonged bout of freedom she was given. The ferry could not sail in these conditions. Instead, she strolled around the city, looking into shops full of wondrous and interesting things.  She was almost a free girl.
However, the most magical moment was almost one of doom.
She had accidentally taken a wrong turn, and found herself in a dark alley, and she wasn’t alone. There was a man who had followed her, and cornered her in the dark. This is it, she had thought. How cruel could fate possibly be? On her one day of salvation she was headed towards utter ruin.
But there was a boy.
A boy with spiky brown hair and a thin stalk of straw in his teeth, who wielded the strangest weapons she had ever seen. He smiled a crooked smile and spoke with the air of someone who traveled the world and knew it all.
He was everything she wished she could be.
After rescuing her from sure destruction, he took her by the hand and showed her the rest of the city. It seemed he didn’t mind the rain either. He took her to try foods she had never tasted. He showed her the royal palace where the Fire Lord lived. He gave her a beautiful flower (which she didn’t remember him paying for, and they did leave the shop rather quickly after) that looked like a flame in her hand.
And as night crept on and the rain began to relent, she knew her time was up.
He walked her back to the ferry port, watching with sad eyes and she gave the ferryman her ticket. Leave with me, he whispered in her ear as he pulled her into an embrace.
Let’s see the world, together. Leave with me, Katara. He pulled away and gave her a kiss—her very first—and held her in a way she didn’t know was possible.
He promised to come for her in the night, and she had said yes.
Akane had given her a beating she would never forget when she returned, almost a full day later, soaking wet and annoyingly pleased. She didn’t care that the ferry was not running, or that Katara had no control over the weather; she had beaten her anyway.  But as the woman brought blow after blow upon her, she was smiling inside. She knew this was the last night she would ever have to suffer again. Soon, she would travel the world.
She waited all night by her window, squinting in the moonlight for a shadow that would never come. Night after night for a month she would scan the tree line for him. Night after night she did something she had not done since she was with her family.
She hoped.
But he never came. And as quickly as the rebellious boy had stolen her heart, he had run away with it never to return.  Thankfully she was young. Thankfully she got over her first heart break.
But she never got over the betrayal.
She had been betrayed by her father when he sold her away, and now the first person she trusted since then had let her down. Never again would she trust the words of another, no matter how real they feel.
And yet, with a soft whisper from the man kneeling on the ground before her, she felt her resolve soften for a moment.
No.
As soon as it had come it left. She had learned to block such nonsense. Emotions only complicated relationships between people. Better to keep to yourself, where your soul can thrive forever. Where it could never be touched.
She slowly walked over the tiled floor, her shadows dancing from the light of the moon over his crouched figure. He did not turn around when he heard her soft footfalls, but continued to clean the mess he had made.
Tentatively she reached out a hand, making no quick movement to startle him. Katara’s fingers found the collar of his shirt, where she slid her fingers down inside to the front of his firm chest. She felt him tighten with shock, and he finally stopped moving.
Gently, she nudged him around, bringing his face level with her stomach. Katara ran her fingers through his hair, traced a finger across his chin, and then gingerly up to the scar that covered the left side of his face.
There it was. The mirror.
She could see why she had faltered for a moment with Prince Zuko. In the minutes that it took for their exchange, she glimpsed something in him that she knew consumed her as well. And as the thin scar beside her own left eye began to tingle, she comprehended what it was—he was just as broken and tortured as she was.
But that was irrelevant at the moment.
Her robe dropped to the floor by her feet.  
She had a job to do.
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Author’s Note: This might be the fastest update I have ever done. I guess there is a story to tell here after all. I hope my retelling of the “Jet and Katara” romance fitted here. I tried to incorporate the same emotional ties she had to him in the show, such as the kiss and her feeling of betrayal, as well as her issues with trust that were connected to him.  I also did not specifically name him, but tried to make it obvious.  Hope my readers are all well versed ATLA lovers!
As always, reviews are love.
ChiaraBrie