Half a Face?

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or elements of Avatar: The Last Airbender. Those rights belong solely to its distributors and Nickelodeon.

Setting: Takes place during "The Waterbending Scroll," during the time when the pirates are searching for Aang and Sokka, and Katara is alone on the beach with Zuko, Iroh, and their crew.

"Now you help me find what I want. You'll get this back, and everyone goes home happy. Search the woods for the boy and meet back here!"

"Fine."

As the group of infuriated, murmuring pirates separated and stalked off into the night, Katara took one quick glance at her captor, stuffing the stolen scroll into his belt with a cocky grin. She hated him. His grin, his posture, his voice, his arrogance. He was trying to reason with her. Trying to play nice. In retrospect, her only regret now was not being able to come up with an insult better than "Go jump in the river!"

The Prince had an unusual amount of confidence in him now. Despite the constant refusal from the girl to tell him where the Avatar was, he only seemed even more sure that he would soon get exactly what he wanted.

"I'll get him now. Oh, I'll get him now. Lieutenant Jee, keep the men on high alert. I expect that we'll be having company quite soon."

"Yes, sir."

All of the soldiers, with the Lieutenant in front, instantly snapped into attention, their spears firmly at their sides.

"Prince Zuko, do you really think those fools can capture the Avatar?" Said the short, old man beside him. "They are great merchants no doubt, but they are not the best men for the job of capturing someone. Killing someone? Yes. Capturing? Alive? I'm not so sure."

"I didn't say that they would be the ones to bring him to me, Uncle. She will." He gestured fiercely at Katara, who tried her best to not look at him. But, with the limited amount of movement due to her tight situation, she found it to only be even harder as she tried harder.

"Zuko, she has already made it clear that she will never tell us where he is."

"She may not tell us, but I feel that, with her here, he will come to us. There is no doubt that he cares about her as much as she cares about him. She is far more valuable in this situation than this stupid scroll."

He slowly turned around and looked at her once more. He couldn't help but smirk at her attempts to keep her head away from him. She truly was stubborn and strong. The young Water Tribe girl was definitely not the weak, completely defenseless girl he had seen when he first captured the Avatar at the Southern Water Tribe. He had seen how she had dealt with the one pirate moments before she quite literally ran into his arms. But she was at his mercy now. And it had been quite a long time, quite some time, since he had ever had the upper hand in any situation like this.

So he might as well have a little fun with her.

He slowly walked up to her, his boots making deep shuffling sounds in the sand.

"You do care about him, don't you?" He said as he slowly leaned in.

"I'm not even talking to you anymore. Get away from me!"

"You're only saying that because you know that it's true. You know that he'll come to 'save the day.' He'll come to 'rescue the damsel in distress.' How truly pathetic."

"He is not pathetic! He is a great bender, a great guy, and a lot greater than you!"

Zuko was quite amused with her. Despite being a member of the Water Tribe, he saw obvious fire in her. In her eyes as she glared at him. The lights from the nearby ship reflected from her eyes, casting a glow in them that appeared quite fierce.

"Is he, now? So are you the one who stole the scroll? You want to be better than him, don't you?"

"No! I just…I…"

"No, no. No need to try to explain yourself. I know your type."

"I wish that I could say that I don't know your type!"

"Prince Zuko, is this really quite necessary?" Uncle chimed in. "You really are getting nowhere. I understand what you mean when you say that the Avatar will come to save her, but aggravating her is pointless."

Katara lightened up slightly at the old man's words. His voice always remained soft. She glanced over Zuko's shoulder at him, standing there ever so calmly and quietly. She could already tell that he was not a bad man. Not like this…this beast standing in front of her.

Zuko turned his head around sharply to face the old man, while his feet remained firmly where they were. "Uncle, stay out of this!"

"Whatever you say." And with that, he put his hands back within his sleeves.

Zuko's annoyed look slowly died down, replaced once more by that over-confident look that made Katara want to hit him square between the eyes with a water whip. He slowly looked back at her.

"Please, you must understand. I tried to tell you before, but I didn't want to say anything too personal in front of those thugs. You don't realize the true reason I want the Avatar. Honor and restoration of my throne is just…how should I put this; the tip of the iceberg."

Katara was un-amused by the attempted joke about her nationality. He was only being more condescending, speaking to her as if she was a peasant. Zuko could see her contempt for him, but didn't care and continued nonetheless.

"If I capture him, I will finally have something else back: The love of my family."

"If capturing someone is your family's way of accepting someone, then obviously their definition of love is different from everyone else's definition of love!"

"I need this chance." Zuko slowly turned away from her and started to walk off. "I have been away from my home for two years. Two long, miserable years. I promise: If you help me, I will leave. Back to the Fire Nation from where I came, never to bother you, your brother, or your Water Tribe ever again. Work with me here; I'm close to a breakthrough!"

"If you think that you're close to a breakthrough, then you've really got another thing coming! I rarely even negotiate with people who have only half a face like you!"

Dead silence. Almost instantly, the air around the beach went quiet. The wind seemed to stop; the waves seemed to stop brushing along the shore; the branches and leaves of trees stopped blowing and rustling casually. Katara's own heavy breathing from her energy was the only sound. However, she had to stop when she instantly noticed, beyond the motionless form of the Prince, there were ghastly expressions among the soldiers. The men who had been standing rigidly at attention suddenly had eyes as wide as Momo's. They slowly glanced between each other nervously. One of them took a deep gulp. Even the leader of the men, the one called Lieutenant Jee, seemed to grow paler and briefly glanced in her direction.

However, she most noticed the old man; the Prince's Uncle. He instantly shot her a look. His eyes were wide, his teeth were barred nervously, and his eyebrows raised high in shock and fear. He made several quick slashing motions across his neck before he looked again at his nephew. He put his hands back in his sleeves and turned his head away, whistling casually in an attempt to break the ice.

She looked back at the Prince. There was a statue in his place. His body was absolutely motionless. His hair didn't blow in the wind. He didn't seem to breathe. For the first time, Katara felt something. Fear. She had a terrible feeling that what she had just said had hit a crucial nerve; had done something to the man who, up until this point, had managed to contain himself and remain calm, cool, and collected.

Then, she saw his hands clench firmly into fists at his side. He made a sharp pivot, his boots kicking up some sand as he spun to face her. She was horrified at his face more so now than ever.

His one good eyebrow was furrowed down hard, his teeth gnashed against each other, and the look of Death itself in his eyes. He was now breathing heavily, steam coming from his nostrils. His furrowed face scrunched his scar up even more. She heard a growl come from between his teeth.

With that, he slowly advanced towards her. All of the soldiers simultaneously drew a collected breath. Katara could feel her anger towards him vanish as fear settled in. She tried to back away, but found nowhere to go. He suddenly seemed much larger and more ferocious now.

Then, he was in her face. His hideous burned skin was nearly touching hers.

And then, in the softest of whispers, he said, "I'm sorry. What did you just say?"

Katara remained absolutely still, daring to not even take another breath.

"Half a face? Did I hear you right?"

Another long, eerie silence.

Zuko slowly straightened up, mercifully pulling his face out of hers. He slowly started to pivot around, his back facing her once again. He was still once more.

Then, in a flash even faster than lightning, he spun around with a yell. Katara felt the impact of a boulder on her right cheek at that moment. Her head jerked to the side, with a burning fiery sensation in the entire right side of her face. Zuko's hand remained absolutely flat and firm as it dealt the most painful blow she had ever felt in her life. Even after he struck her, the hand remained in the same shape, almost like a blade.

Katara was unable to contain herself. The pain was too much. She could feel the tears start to roll down her face before she could attempt to stop them. Then there was a sniffle.

Almost instantly, she felt a vice-like grip seal around her, gripping her chin and both cheeks. The fingernails dug deep into her skin, making the screaming pain in one cheek rise sharply. He turned her head back to face him, and he was once again extremely close to her. His voice was sharp, firm, and hard. But it wasn't even loud. He was not yelling at her, but he might as well have been.

"You have no idea what it felt like. You have no idea what I went through when I got this. You don't know the pain, the suffering, the misery, the anguish that I felt when this happened to me!"

He gestured at his scar, but noticed that she was still resisting. Her eyes were shut, but the tears continued leaking out.

"Look at me!" He said, raising his voice higher. He shook her head violently, and she sobbed loudly again. "I said look at me!"

She slowly opened her eyes and looked into his fiery, golden eyes. The anger in those eyes was unbelievable. It easily matched the anger that she felt when her mother was taken from her.

"You see this? This is a symbol of eternal pain. It is forever inflicted onto my face. When people look at me, they see this! This lasts forever. The pain you may feel right now is absolutely nothing compared to mine. Your cheek may hurt for another minute. Maybe two. Then it goes away. It's gone. It never happened. But this…the pain in this scar…it lasts for my whole life. I feel it right now. It hurts, and ten times more than what I did to you just now! So go ahead and cry. Cry all you want. I've felt the kind of pain that would make me cry a river as large as this one for the last two years. But I've managed to keep it in."

Finally, he released her head. She let it hang there, the tears streaming down and falling from her chin. Her hair was slightly disheveled now from the impact of the blow and the violent shaking of her head. She sobbed again.

"You're not so feisty now, are you? Are you? I was like you once, too. I had no respect. I talked like that to others. But you know what happened?"

For the first time, she willingly looked at him. Through the blurred vision, she saw the anger slightly ease up. But not by much.

"This happened." Another gesture at his own scar. "The pain…it changed me. It helped me to mature and understand how to become more of an adult, and less of an arrogant child. I see much of myself in you. You have a great fire in you. A great spirit. But your disrespect may get the better of you, just as it did me. I needed to learn respect. And pain was my teacher."

Then, his hand was up again. She winced, expecting it to rush down and clamp over her chin again. However, it went lower. She felt it suddenly tighten around her neck, putting her head right up against the tree.

"Do you want to know something? I don't care how young you are, how talented you are, or how beautiful you are. If I wanted, I could kill you right now with my bare hands. I could, I would, and I should. You have no idea how many ways I could kill you."

By now, she had an instant resurgence of tears, and they started to flow freely again. She was truly angry at him, but was far too afraid of him to dare do anything that would bring back the level of rage with which he had struck her.

"However, seeing as how valuable you are to me in recovering the Avatar…I will let you live."

Zuko slowly released her neck and started to turn around. Suddenly, he spun around yet again and grabbed her by the throat once more. Now his right hand was suddenly right up in her face, palm facing her and fingers spread apart.

"On the other hand…I could have a little fun with you without killing you." Then a small flame started to emanate from his palm, just as it had when he threatened to burn the scroll. It grew larger slowly, tauntingly. Its flames lightly flickered her uninjured cheek, tingling her skin. Her head was against the tree already, so she couldn't move back. And she didn't dare try to move sideways. She only found herself staring into the fire, the brightness so close to her that it lit up her entire field of vision, making the night seem like day to her.

"I could easily, so easily, do to you what was done to me two years ago. It won't be hard. At this close to you, with all the power I have stored in me and ready to unleash, oh, you would look just like me."

He inched the hand even closer. Katara could start to feel an extreme heat overtake the left side of her face, equally matching the still-burning feeling in her other cheek. She tried her hardest to look through her tears and the flame that was quickly drying them up. She looked right into his eyes. She saw…something else. Not all-out, full-fledged anger. Not a greedy look, of satisfaction at how he was in control here. But she saw the look of regret. Of a secret, tormenting agony. The looks of anger and greed were only in there to cover it up. She finally realized now that maybe the pain Zuko felt with his scar was truly terrible. Possibly even as terrible as the pain she felt when her mother died. Much more pain than anger, by far.

For a few long moments, the only sound was the flickering of the fire. The only movement came from the waving of the flames. Katara realized now that she had truly crossed the line. She knew that this man would show no mercy to her. She closed her eyes and awaited the impact of the flame.

In her world of darkness while her eyes remained squeezed shut, she suddenly felt a cold wind rushing over her left cheek. She opened her eyes, and saw that the flame had stopped. Zuko's hand was still right there, but the flame was gone. The cold air rushed in where, only moments ago, her cheek had been practically on fire. There was actually steam still lightly rising from the pale palm. She then felt his left hand slowly drop away from her neck. Even though he had not been holding her tightly enough to strangle her, she couldn't resist taking a deep breath of fresh air.

Then, suddenly, she felt something even colder. Several small, but firm, cold presences on her left cheek. His fingers were now slowly stroking her face.

"If I did, though, I would be destroying such a young, beautiful face." His fingers slowly traced down her cheek, falling away at the bottom. For a brief moment, her tears stopped. She looked up at him, right into his eyes. There was still a deep, hidden pain behind those eyes. But for right now, he had a look of…remorse. No, not remorse. Pity. Maybe now he would finally…

Suddenly, they were back in her face once more, curled up and palm facing her. The flame was back, as was the rage in his eyes and the other hand on her neck.

"But my face was young and beautiful, too! Did you know that? Well, look at me now! Just look at me!"

He pulled the flame aside and put his face in its place. His scar was in her eyes, the red, wrinkled skin seeming even older and rougher up close.

The tears came rushing back. She knew now what the answer was. This man, this Fire Nation Prince, was psychotic. He was power-hungry. He finally had someone to bully. Someone weaker than him, and literally at his mercy. There was nothing she could do. There was no one else to help her…yet. He was like a young child stepping on bugs, for the joy and satisfaction of killing something that can't even fight back. She knew that, in the heat of the moment, he was unable to make a firm, final decision. That wasn't his intent. He was going to play with her. Tease her. Torture her mentally. The flame would probably be gone and back again, gone and back, gone and back like this for at least another hour straight. He was confused and unable to make up his own mind, as he finally had a life at stake.

She closed her eyes, refusing to make another loud, sobbing noise. She simply took one long, slow, deep breath, and slowly exhaled. Inhaled, then exhaled. She would have to be calm through this. Even as the flame lightly tinged her cheek once more. She had to be mentally prepared for what was to follow. She was now bracing for the worst of this torture.

"Like my father taught me…I will teach you how to behave. But I believe that mental pain, psychological torment, is so much worse than physical pain. It can last forever. Physical pain may go away after a while. Once again, just as my scar is far worse than the light blow to your cheek. And as of now…I think I may have done quite enough. Our lesson is done."

With that, the flame vanished in a light swirl, and he closed up his fingers into a fist. The fist slowly dropped to his side, and he started to ease up on her neck. But before he let go of her, he slowly leaned his face in closely one more time.

"But just remember what I have taught you today. Always remember it. And don't you ever…ever, speak to me like that again. Do you understand me?"

Katara still kept her eyes shut and didn't respond, still stuck in the anticipation of the worst to come.

"I said do you understand me?"

Katara slowly opened her eyes and looked up at him. His left hand finally released her neck, and he took a step back. Suddenly, he raised his right hand. It was once again flat, all fingers pressed firmly against each other, and raised into the air like a blade ready to come down.

Finally, for the first time in the entire conversation since the first blow, she found herself with no choice but to speak to him again. "Yes! Yes…I get it. I understand…"

As her words escaped, so did the tears. She hung her head again. She looked up briefly just in time to see him smile. Now, the rage was fully replaced by satisfaction. The knowledge that he had done his job, and had done it right. The hand relaxed and slowly fell down to his side like the other one.

"Excellent. Although you were a slow learner, I feel that you now get the point at last. See? All it takes is just a few minutes of being on the wrong side of the blade."

Zuko finally let out a chuckle, as he looked down at the girl. In a matter of minutes, and with just the right words, she had gone from a stubborn, feisty, and arrogant Waterbender girl to a weak, defenseless, and humbled peasant from the Water Tribe. Only he could have made such a quick and shocking transition possible.

With that, he slowly pivoted around once more, turning his back to her, and walked off silently towards the skiff. As he disappeared into the cabin, all of the soldiers released long sighs.

"At ease." Jee called, and the men all relaxed in their places.

At long last, finally, mercifully, it was over. Katara took in a deep, ragged breath, a combination of inhaling and sobbing. It was over now, and she tried to stop the flow of tears that continued pouring. They were from the pain, all right. But not the physical pain. No. For once, he was actually right. It was the pain in her mind, the torment and horror of this entire incident, that had forever burned itself into her brain. She would never forget his words, his actions, that smug grin or his burning eyes. How many times he had pretended to stop, then suddenly come back again, even more ready to hurt her. How she had no way of knowing when it was over, or if she would escape without a lifelong scar, just like his.

But most of all, she would never forget his message, and how everything he was saying was the truth. Oh, he couldn't have been more right. And she hated to admit it. But she knew, deep down, that Zuko was right about watching the way you speak to people. About letting stubbornness and arrogance get the better of you. Just the way she had it let it get the better of her with Aang, just earlier that day. The way he was nearly driven to tears because of her…

Oh, Aang. She thought to herself. I promise, if I get out of this…I'll apologize to you the right way. I'll never be like that again…

She glanced over at the soldiers, their menacing spears still in hand and several still glancing at her.

That is, if I ever get out of this.