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Keep Your Enemy Closer
03
Dealin' With It
Getting the clothes on was more than a major pain. It was a pain and a half plus three quarters.
Not only was Zuko's body not quite as flexible as she was used to, but it took Katara a long time to figure out what went on what, and how, and how it managed to stay there.
All in all, after much trouble and time consumption Katara finally managed what she thought was a decent attempt at dressing herself. She'd decided to play it safe, and after a few minutes of pillaging around through Zuko's clothes (though she indeed felt embarrassed while doing so) she'd decided to wear what she'd always seen Zuko wearing - his traditional armor. Not that there was that much more of a variety.
It was strange because she felt somehow the armor wasn't supposed to feel this light or feel this natural on her body - but then she was snapped back to the reality that no, this WASN'T her body.
Then she fell into a pit of confusion and mild hysteria again. Drawing in a deep breath as she stood outside the door, Katara rubbed her hand across the back of her head - then cringed. She was bald. Bald.
Well, not completely. Absently Katara reached up and gave her topknot a little swish. It felt so weird for her hair to be pulled up so high.
After a few moments Katara swished the topknot again. Then she realized she was procrastinating in exiting the door. Sighing heavily, the ex-Waterbender scowled at said object.
As much as she'd like to, she couldn't stay in this room forever. For one, she doubted that would help her situation any. And besides, it might be strange for "Zuko" to stayed locked in his bedroom all day.
This was the part that gave Katara queasy feelings in her stomach - she didn't KNOW how Zuko acted, in fact she knew almost nothing about him. Therefore she knew even LESS about how he acted around his own people.
The ex-girl deflated visibly. She was going to ruin this. She knew it.
After a few moments trying to compose herself, Katara decided to do the safest thing - remain completely and utterly silent.
After all, everyone has those silent days, right?
Right?
Praying against all hope available, Katara reached out and gripped the door, then swung it open. The hinges creaked just slightly and Katara slowly gulped. Against all odds she prayed that this horrible dream would end when the door opened all the way and that she would wake up on grass in the forest.
There was a click as the door to her room completed its swing. Nothing happened.
Feeling more down than unusual, Katara hesitantly managed to shuffled herself out of the doorway. She then closed the door behind her and rubbed her hand against her forehead.
"This is so wrong..." she mumbled, then made a weird face at the sound of her own voice. Suddenly the noise of one clearing their throat reached her. She looked up dumbly and saw a tall Fire Nation soldier blinking owlishly at her.
"...Sir? Are you alright?" the soldier finally asked. Katara opened her mouth a bit and then slowly closed it.
"...Fine," she grated out, and then coughed for a moment, unused to her voice being so deep.
The soldier looked a little worried (albeit, also a little disturbed) and took a step forward. "Do you need assistance, Prince Zuko?"
Slowly Katara straightened up, trying to appear tall and nonchalant as she faked a stretch. "Uh, no -" Suddenly her back popped and the ex-Waterbender grimaced at the sound. "Gross..."
The soldier continued to stare wordlessly at his 'prince.' "...Very well," he finally said, taking a bow and preparing to leave.
Suddenly Katara realized her error. "Wait!" she squeaked before covering her mouth. The soldier froze and spun on his heel, now looking like he wanted nothing more than to just leave and get very, very far away.
"Uh... I'd like you to accompany me," Katara finished, trying to make herself sound confident. Her attempts led to her voice cracking slightly.
The soldier inclined his head. "To where...?"
Katara cleared her throat. "...To eat? ...To eat!" She nodded vigorously, realized what she was doing, and then stopped. The soldier gazed strangely at her. Feeling desperate, Katara pulled off a rather smart move - she tried her best to scowl.
The scowl wasn't perfect, in fact it was rather hideous and lopsided, but the soldier breathed a sigh of relief. A scowl was a scowl. Maybe his 'prince' hadn't lost his mind.
"Very well," the soldier replied, chancing another bow before taking off at a brisk walk. Katara tried to keep a steady pace but found herself falling out of rhythm and even nearly tripping over her own boots. She pretended to scratch her nose but in reality was simply trying to hide the embarrassment on her face.
But so far things were good. If the soldier still thought she was Zuko, as he seemed to have revealed, than maybe no one else knew about the incident either. If that was the case, she still stood a chance. And she felt like she was going to need all the chances she could get.
Her stomach rumbled and Katara almost bowed over, surprised at its strength. She thought she saw the soldier glance weirdly at her before suddenly both of them came to a stop. The older man opened a door and motioned "Zuko" in with a nod. "Here you are, Sir."
Katara tried to swell out her chest as she strode through the door. A table lay before her, filled with food, and there sat the old man from earlier. He set down the glass of tea he had been sipping.
"Ah, Prince Zuko! It is nice to see you," the old man, better known as Iroh, replied.
Katara paused, trying to figure out where she was supposed to sit. She decided to try the chair on the other side of Iroh. Not saying a word she awkwardly pulled it out and sat down.
What came next was automatic. Immediately Katara settled her legs together and placed her hands in her lap like a proper lady. But almost as soon as she did it she realized that she was not a lady at the moment.
Coughing a bit in the back of her throat, the ex-girl shifted in her seat, trying to figure out where to put her hands. She tried to recall how Sokka usually sits - after a moment she sprawled out her legs, her boots resting lazily on the floor. She also leaned back in her seat and folded her hands behind her head, trying to look cool and lethargic. Silence reigned.
Iroh stared at his nephew. He sat sprawled out like... well, like a normal, lazy boy. Nothing like a stern, tempered Prince. Maybe something was wrong with him.
Trying to hide his worry, Iroh sipped at his tea again. "Well, do you feel like eating today, Nephew?" he asked, trying to keep the mood cheerful.
Katara froze before slowly pulling her hands down and straightening up. She stared down at the plate before her before nodding.
Raising an eyebrow, Iroh continued to sip at his cup, though keeping an eye on his 'nephew.' Katara took a fork and kind of jabbed her fish, making a weird look while she did. A few more moments of silence passed as they ate.
"...You know, Nephew," Iroh began, setting his cup down, "I cannot help but feel that something is amiss."
Katara almost choked in mid swallow. Shoving the plate away she grabbed at her throat, making a weird noise as she tried to hack the piece of fish out. Iroh looked rather alarmed at his nephew's wild facial expressions as"Zuko" began to beat at his chest.
Suddenly, with a rather powerful cough, the food was un-lodged. Katara slumped, rubbing at her throat tenderly. "...What?" she finally managed, her voice still cracking.
Iroh slowly pushed his plate away. "Zuko, do you feel ill?" he asked, deadpan.
Katara vigorously shook her head. "Of course - of course not," she tried to growl out, though still with a few coughs. She chanced a glare down at her food, which seemed to mock her in its dead, cooked state.
"Are you sure of this, Prince Zuko?" Iroh inquired, trying to sound as unobtrusive as possible. To his surprise Zuko didn't become angry at his questioning.
"Yes," 'Zuko' only replied, almost sounding rather merry. Iroh remained quiet and watched his nephew sip at his tea.
Suddenly Katara's eyes widened and she set the cup down. "That's really good!" she exclaimed before clamping her mouth shut. Once again she'd momentarily forgotten where she was. The dastardly fish and charming old man were starting to get to her.
But the tea really had been good.
Iroh's alarm finally became somewhat apparent on his face. "...Oh? ...What is good?"
"...Nothing," Katara mumbled, dabbing at her mouth with a napkin. She hurried to stand, almost getting her boot caught under the chair. "I think I'll go take a walk."
Iroh only nodded slightly in confirmation. As fast as she could, though slow enough to not be suspicious, Katara scurried out of the room with a final cough.
A few moments more passed and Iroh glanced down at the cups of tea. Slowly he raised a gnarled hand to his forehead and massaged his temple.
"...I believe this is worse than I thought..." he sighed openly.
Zuko had his fists clenched tightly as he took a small step backwards. His soft shoes made no sound as he moved.
The monkeys chattered wildly at him and continued to advance boldly. Getting rid of them should have been easy. But it wasn't.
He, the mighty Prince Zuko, couldn't Firebend.
Feeling utterly wretched and yet thankful no one was around to see him, the frustrated Prince snatched up a stick and flung it at the small band of apes. "Go away!" he yelled angrily, hoping his enraged appearance would frighten them off.
However things aren't quite as scary when you're in the body of a young girl. At least, they don't really turn out how you want them too. Maybe his expression was fearsome enough but his voice... well, it came out high pitched and girly.
But the monkeys halted. Zuko held up another thick limb, arms akimbo, ready to bash the first beast that tried to take him down.
However the ex-Firebender didn't need to worry about that. The glint of a flying object breezed past him and landed with a zing in a nearby tree.
The monkeys scattered, babbling wildly. Zuko frowned, slowly lowering his arm before he heard a swish and then a thump. Feeling some kind of cold horror seep into his soul, the prince slowly turned.
The Avatar had just landed and was now stowing his glider back onto his back. The dark skinned boy floundered up and tugged his boomerang out of the tree before inspecting it with a few mutters as he wiped off bark. The Avatar swiveled around, a big grin plastered on his face.
"That was close!" the small child exclaimed good-naturedly. He suddenly looked confused. "Why'd you walk off on your own, Katara?"
Katara?
My name is Katara?
Zuko's jaw clenched and his arms vibrated with silent rage. Aang noted the look easily enough and kind of swallowed, leaning back a bit.
Sokka, however, was blind to "Katara's" mood. He turned around and pointed a finger accusingly at the Waterbender. "You know, that was dumb. ...And what's with the stick?"
Zuko slowly let his eyes travel to his hand, which was still firmly clenched around the stick. His knuckles were almost white from the insane grip.
With a sudden cry of despair and rage the Firebender let the stick fly. Sokka squeaked and flailed out of the way as the limb blazed past him, crashing into some nearby brush.
"What is going on?" Zuko howled, his voice laced with disbelief and rage. He brought his shoulders stiffly up as he lowered his face to the ground, breathing heavily. If he'd been in his previous body, flames might have been shooting out of his nose or mouth with every heavy exhale.
Sokka and Aang silently shared wondering (and disturbed) glances. The Airbender recovered a little more quickly and slowly stepped forward, holding out a hand.
"Hey... is something wrong, Katara?" he asked as gently as he dared.
Suddenly Zuko shot his head up and with a cold turn he shrugged off the Avatar and his companion and began to march stonily in his previous direction. Aang withdrew his hand, looking more than a little hurt, as Sokka began to keep pace with his "sister."
"Hey! What's your deal?" Sokka demanded but paused as Aang passed him and stopped in front of Zuko. The angered prince ground to a halt, his eyes blazing.
"Katara..." Aang reached out his hand and took the Waterbender's as he tried to lock gazes with her. "What's wrong?"
Slowly Zuko looked down at his hand, which Aang was cupping. There were a few moments of silence and Aang felt his heartbeat quicken uncertainly.
Suddenly "Katara" slapped Aang's hand away and drew back her lip with a snarl as she shoved past him. "Don't do that," she hissed.
Aang let his hand fall to his side. Sokka stopped beside him and watched his sister's rigid back stomp through the undergrowth.
"Oh, leave her alone, Aang," Sokka muttered. "She's just being a girl, being moody and all. Let her go!" He made a fist and shook it in the air as if to prove his point.
Aang still looked down, and his bottom lip trembled slightly. "...But Sokka," he replied, "we shouldn't let her go alone..."
"...Of course not," Sokkarelented with a small smirk. "We follow. She just won't know."
Aang glanced up before slowly smiling. "...Okay!"
Zuko emerged in light of a clearing, and faintly he could hear the sea and the crying of seabirds.
But right now his thoughts were not on the sparkly-ness of the ocean of the wondrousness of the gulls or daisies or ribbons or fluffy clouds. Right now his thoughts were bent on one thing and one thing only: getting back to his ship at any and all costs.
He wasn't sure if he had been followed. The ears he carried now weren't as trained as the ones he had once owned. Either way he didn't care - if the Avatar hadn't followed him, more privacy for him. If he had, then when Zuko did reach his ship and get things back to normal, then the Avatar would be right there for his capturing.
Smirking triumphantly despite his situation Zuko strolled into the small marketplace that donned the seaward landscape. His triumph was short lived, though, as he suddenly grabbed his side as a painful stitch took him. Angry stomping through crowded brush and foliage usually causes these kinds of things in people.
Rubbing at his side Zuko scowled, once again reminding himself how much he hated this body and everything about it. But thinking about such things led the prince's mind to, well... other things, and he jerked his head up and tried to focus his attention on something far away. He could not afford to get distracted! Not even by his own body...
Zuko ran that thought over in his mind and realized it just sounded wrong. He was happy that Iroh was not around and that the old man could not read minds (as far as he knew, that is...). He could only imagine the old man's laughter.
With newfound determination Zuko stalked (albeit with a little bit of a limp, as his side was still a little pained) down the crowded streets, ignoring any and all looks that were given to him.
People bumped against him and sometimes he yelled at them for it - often he just got amused looks. Shoving through denser areas Zuko's frustration only worsened. Walking through a market like this was certainly a lot different from how he was used to. For one, guards didn't flank him. And Iroh was missing...
Suddenly Zuko felt something... alien creep down his back.
Then a pinch.
A pinch.
On his butt.
Anger like Zuko had never known coursed through him. It was what we like to call mortified anger. You know, if anyone's interested or anything.
Faster than a streak of lightning, swifter than - well, awful quick-like anyway - Zuko spun around and grabbed the hand that dared to violate the sanctity of his personal space.
"How dare you!" Zuko shrieked angrily. A slender gray-eyed man blinked owlishly at him before breaking out into a grin.
"Aw, did I make you mad, sweet thang?" the man drawled, batting his eyelashes flirtatiously.
Zuko slapped the man's wandering hand away before jabbing his fingers into the older man's chest, his face a mask of pure rage. "I should have you executed, you filthy peasant!" the prince yelled threateningly, curling his fingers into the man's shirt.
The man blinked down at the young girl that was currently trying to threaten him. Then he laughed. "Aww, whatever you say! Can't a man appreciate a little some-some around here?" A couple of men nearby laughed, obviously companions to Mr. Flirt.
Quivering violently as he realized his threats were not being taken seriously (and could he blame them?) Zuko lapsed as to what to do. That's when the basic female instincts kicked in.
Up went Zuko's knee. Down went Mr. Flirt, clasping at his groin with a howl of pain. As Mr. Flirt fell Zuko brought his hand in and then sent it swinging, delivering a stunning backhand to the man's cheek.
There was a gasp that arose from the man's friends and suddenly other people nearby began to cheer (mostly women.) Slightly stunned Zuko withdrew his now stinging hand and realized what attention he was bringing to himself. Also realizing that this was essentially a bad thing, even though it DID feel awful good, the ex-Firebender quickly slipped off into the crowd and was lost to sight. Meanwhile Mr. Flirt groaned and rolled about on the dirt, only to be barraged viciously with fruit by young toddlers who were amused at his pain.
By some wondrous miracle Katara had found her way outside. She draped herself over the railing, unheeding the glances she received from passing crewmen. Breathing deeply she sighed as she gazed out at the sea and the docks and the marketplace. She thought she heard a cheer rise from somewhere, but she couldn't place it.
Letting her eyelids droop, she wondered what was becoming of her body out there.
Not far away Zuko picked his way along the alleys, avoiding strange old hobos and their wild eyes. He glanced up to the sky, narrowing his brow, and wondered the exact same thing.