'This isn't my bed.'

This was Katara's first thought when she awakened with a throbbing head and stiff limbs. It was an accurate if not obvious statement, seeing as she didn't have a bed – especially not one with mounds of silk sheets and fluffy pillows and an absurdly comfortable mattress.

Lying under the mountain of golden silk, she searched her mind for an explanation. The previous night was fuzzy an unclear. She remembered arguing with her friends over where to go next, she thinking it best if they kept their current distance from the Fire Palace to avoid detection, while Sokka believed they should get as close as possible so they would be ready for the invasion. She had been in a sour mood when she curled up in her sleeping bag, and Jet had lay down beside her and talked to her until she cheered up. Then they both drifted to sleep and...

And the next thing she remembered was waking up in this bed.

'There has to be something else,' she thought, prying at the memories in her groggy mind. She knew that, at some point, she had woken up. But when...

Smoke filled the air, choking her lungs as she struggled to stand, only to realize her limbs had become limp and numb. They were being ambushed, poisoned – someone was trying to capture them. Amid the confusion she could hear shouting, though the words and voices were hard to distinguish.

A figure loomed over her, appearing through the smoke and darkness. There was someone slung over his shoulder, and when she squinted she could see the figure's face – or, at least, what covered it. A mask, the blue and white image of a frightful demon. He was kneeling down, throwing her over his shoulder as she shrieked and tried to defend herself, unresponsive limbs refusing to kick or punch or fight. Her body had already shut down, and her mind was slowly fading...

Jolting upright, Katara let out a sound between a scream and a gasp, her clothes clinging to her with sweat.

Only, they weren't her clothes – she was in an unfamiliar (though definitely comfortable), loose fitting robe of red and gold silk.

"Oh! Lady Katara, how nice to see you awake!" a woman cried, rushing to her bedside. A dozen more women followed, all talking at once ("How are you feeling?" "Would you like anything to eat?" "Would you like me to massage your head?") and making Katara's mind spin.

"Where are my clothes?" she asked when there was finally a lull in the women's fussing. Then, despite already having an idea of the answer, she added, "Where am I?"

"You're in the Fire Nation palace in a room reserved for our most honoured guests," one of the women said, reaching around Katara and fluffing her pillows. "Prince Zuko requested that you be given our best care."

Another woman, sitting at the end of the bed rubbing Katara's feet, said, "Your clothing was filthy, so we had to give them a good washing. You can keep the robe if you like, though."

"I..." she tried, feeling overwhelmed as the women (who she now realized were handmaidens) crowded around her, resuming their fussing and unrequested pampering. Dimly, she realized there was another very important issue to be addressed.

"Lady Katara, your clothing is clean and waiting!" a new handmaiden announced, standing in the doorway with a wide smile and basket of laundry balanced on her shoulder.

A figure loomed over her, appearing through the smoke and darkness. There was someone slung over his shoulder...

"Who else?" Katara blurted. At the women's curious gaze, she elaborated: "Who else was taken to the palace?"

"Oh yes," the woman with the basket said, setting her load on a chair by the door, "the Prince did bring someone else with him, didn't he?"

"There was a big celebratory dinner between the royal family," the foot massager added. "They say the war is all but over now."

Katara felt her heart sink. Aang – of course Zuko would capture Aang. Who else would he have reason to go after? The eclipse was little over a week away and Aang was...

"Hey, come on – give her some space!" a familiar voice ordered, causing her heart to plummet further. The sea of servants parted, revealing none other than Prince Zuko, a broad smile at his lips and his hair pulled into a topknot.

"What did you do to Aang?" she demanded as he approached, clenching at her silk sheets. "Where is he? Where are the rest of my friends? What do you want with me?"

"He's fine! They're all fine!" Zuko assured her, sitting on the end of the enormous bed. Sighing, he stared at the floor. His smile had vanished, replaced by a small frown and eyes narrowed in thought. "I just... trust me. I don't want to hurt you or your friends."

"Except Aang."

His gaze jerked toward her as he opened his mouth to respond, only to exhale heavily an instant later and look away once more. After a moment, he murmured, "It's complicated."

"I'm sure," she grumbled, crossing her arms and glaring.

The handmaidens watched the exchange uneasily, whispering among themselves. A look from Zuko silenced them instantly.

"Look, I just... I want you to have a chance to get to know me, to see what I'm really like. Give it a day or two – you'll love it here."

"I think you've already given me a pretty clear picture of what you're like."

"Just give me a chance," he said, meeting her eyes with a look bordering on desperation.

Turning her gaze purposefully away, she scowled and said, "You don't deserve a chance. And no amount of gold in the world will make me like you."

A second later the meaning of her words hit her full force, accompanied by the memory of her last conversation with him in Ba Sing Se. Was that what this was about? Proving himself to her so she would... fall in love with him? It seemed completely ridiculous, but (she glanced at his face, the almost pleading expression) certainly explained Zuko's odd behaviour.

"I'm still with Jet," she said, gauging his reaction out of the corner of her eyes.

"Right. I know that." He seemed to deflate, his shoulders sagging and already-desperate expression crumpling further. Without another word, he got to his feet and headed toward the door.

"Then why bothering dragging me here?"

He paused a step away from them doorway, not facing her as he said, "I've never been one to give up without a fight."

Then he disappeared down the hallway.

As soon as he was out of sight, the handmaidens resumed their fussing, grabbing at Katara's hair and feet and pillows, asking if there was anything she needed.

'I need to get out of here,' she thought, wincing as one of the women worked at untangling her knotted hair. 'And a bath would be nice.'

The instant the thought had passed through her mind, a switch seemed to flick on in her mind. Of course! Why hadn't she thought of it earlier?

"Actually," she said, hardly able to suppress her grin, "I could use a nice, hot bath."

XxXx

"I really don't think this is a good idea, nephew."

Zuko sighed, rubbing tiredly at his face. "Uncle, how many times do I have to tell you? Everything is fine."

Iroh continued to look sceptical. The two of them sat in the palace gardens, sipping tea at a table beneath a lush, green, umbrella-shaped tree. The conversation they shared had been a common topic since the night before, when Zuko arrived at the palace gates with Katara and the Avatar and an unnecessary amount of pride (in Iroh's opinion, at least).

Zuko couldn't understand his uncle's problem. What was so bad about capturing the girl he pined for and the boy who would restore his honour? Killing two dragon-hawks with one fire blast was a good thing, right? It got both jobs done quick and easy and made everyone happy.

Well, except his uncle and Katara. But they would soon realize it was all for the better.

"I just don't think this will end well for you, Prince Zuko," Iroh said, shaking his head as he stared down at his tea (which he had yet to even take a sip of).

"What could possibly go wrong?"

The look he gave him seemed to say, "Do you really want me to answer that?"

"Trust me, uncle – things will be fine," Zuko said with a smile, trying to ease the old man's obvious doubt. "Azula helped me figure it all out."

"Azula?" Iroh hissed, his eyes bugging out of his head. "I'm sorry, nephew, but have you lost your mind?"

"Look, I know she hasn't been the most trustworthy ally, but I really think she's trying to help this time. I can see the logic behind her suggestions."

Iroh opened his mouth to object, then shut it, shaking his head mutely instead. After a moment of tight-lipped silence, he finally sighed and said, "Alright, nephew. If you really think it's for the best..."

"It is," he said firmly.

It was then that they heard someone frantically calling Zuko's name. Peering over his nephew's shoulder, Iroh allowed himself a slight smile as he said, "I think the servants might be having a little trouble with Miss Katara."

Hesitantly, Zuko turned to see what he was talking about.

Rushing toward them was a panicked looking handmaiden, her clothing soaked and long black hair plastered to the side of her face, a few stray bubbles clinging to her. "Prince Zuko! We have a small problem."

Shooting his uncle a 'don't-say-"I-told-you-so"' glare, he bolted from his seat and hurried across the well-kept lawn, shouting to the servant, "Get Ty Lee and head back to the bathhouse as soon as possible. I'll get her under control."

"Yes, Your Highness!" she said, bowing before obediently hurrying toward the other side of the palace, where Azula's room (and, by association, the princess's friends) was held.

Author's Notes: Took forever, but I finally got around to writing the sequel! =D Hopefully this chapter is worth the wait and people didn't lose interest after waiting so long.

Tell me what you think! Also, advice on a better summary is much love. xD

Disclaimer: I do not own 'Avatar' or any of its characters.