Borealis: A Zutara Story

Chapter 19

Katara had finished bathing and healing her back.  She’d washed several times but still felt dirty. This time she’d managed to keep the water on her genitals longer, but it still hurt too much to do more than bend out his semen.  The water was cold and she was beginning to wrinkle so she decided to get out of it.

After realizing she didn’t have any clothes to put on she wrapped a towel around herself and cautiously cracked the door. Zuko was under the bed distracted. The bath tub was draining slowly enough that she had plenty of water at her disposal. Katara brought her hands forward feeling the water respond as she called it to her and guided it towards Zuko planning to drown him beneath his own bed.  The bed he had just raped her in. 

Movement outside the window caught her eye - the palace guards.  There were two sets whose almost choreographed movements reminded her of those she’d seen in Omashu and Ba Sing Se when their shifts were changing.  She looked across the courtyard and saw several more strategically stationed sets performing the same motions.  She knew what awaited her in the palace; someone had broken into Zuko’s rooms looking for her.  She doubted she’d fare much better if she were captured by the guards.

Katara slowly placed the water back into the tub.  She could have killed him; should have killed him, but then she’d be stuck in the Fire Nation palace after killing the Fire Nation prince without knowing where Aang and her brother were.

It was a chance she couldn’t take.

“Zuko?” she hesitantly called his name after deciding to cooperate with him at least until she found Sokka and Aang. She would kill him on their way out of the palace.

He raised his head suddenly and hit it on a bed slat when he heard someone calling his name. He quickly stashed away the picture and scampered from beneath the bed yelping in pain, “Yes.”

“I need something to put on,” Katara explained quietly sticking her head through the door.

“Oh, right, you need clothes,” Zuko muttered. Lady Munashii had given him several dresses for her, but he didn’t trust letting her wear them. His chambers had been virtually untouched except for regular dusting and cleaning. The servants hadn’t tossed out all of his old clothing. Maybe he had something she could fit.

“Just a minute I’ll try to find you something to wear,” Zuko called out while digging to the back of the chifforobe he’d locked her in earlier.

“What are these? They smell funny,” Katara said when Zuko passed several random pieces of clothing through the door.

“They’re clothes I outgrew before I left home. They’re clean, but they haven’t been aired out. I’m burning these dresses grandfather’s hags gave you. Once you’re decent I’ll take you into the city to find something to wear,” Zuko explained.

Katara picked through the mix of pants, shirts, and shorts then settled on a pair of maroon shorts to use as underwear. They weren’t wrappings, but they reminded her of the briefs Aang wore. The shirts he gave her were clingy but not so much she could use them to substitute for her breast bindings. She asked if he had any smaller ones.  

Zuko handed her a few more pullover shirts and she found a tighter one that offered her breasts the necessary support and confinement. She pulled larger shirt that reached her mid thigh on over it. She found a pair of pants that were too long but fit close enough through the hips and thigh that she was certain they wouldn’t fall off.

The richly made garments were comfortable but the hastily thrown together outfit made her feel as if she were one of those scarecrows she’d seen in the Earth Kingdom.

Foolish looking or not it would serve their purpose until she found other clothes. 

She avoided stepping on the areas where Zuko had removed the shavings from her back and walked back into the bedroom, “I’m dressed.”

Zuko stopped and looked at her. As a he a child he’d never understood why his father insisted his mother wear one of his shirts as a swimsuit cover when they went to Ember Island, but seeing Katara in his clothes made him feel some type of primitive urge. It was as if he owned her from head to toe and this was just one way of letting the world know she was his. The Fire Prince shook his head after slapping himself a few times to restore his senses - that certainly was not the sign he’d asked his mother for.

 

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Katara tilted her head unsure what to think of Zuko.

He’d forced himself on her twice without a care for her wellbeing and he had shoved her face into a stool. He’d also encouraged her to eat, warned her about his father and he’d been so concerned when she was in pain he’d carried her to the doctor in a full sprint.  He hadn’t touched her this morning even though he was erect and he was keeping her away from those nobles.

She’d heard him begging his mother for help asking that he send it via Roku to Aang. Now he stood before her dusty, with swollen eyes. If she didn’t know better she would think he may have been crying.

“Zuko, why are you so dirty?” the question came out of her mouth unbidden and she stopped the hand that had moved automatically to brush him off. “Sorry, it’s a habit from dealing with Sokka, Aang and Toph.”

He glanced at her with a puzzled expression.  The last person to do that to him while asking that question in that tone had been his mother. Maybe she was answering his plea for help and telling him to do what was necessary to protect Katara.

Katara stepped away from him alarmed.  She had felt dampness when she was dusting him off and now she was close enough to see there were tear tracks in the grime on his face. He had been crying.  A part of her was amazed the angry ponytail boy was capable of shedding tears and wished she’d been the one to cause them. Another was curious as to what made him so upset and how she could help, but those paled in comparison to her self-preservation instincts.

 If he had reached the point of tears, how would the cause affect her? She called his name tentatively almost afraid of his response, “Zuko?”

He snapped out of his fugue and stumbled through what he hoped was a plausible answer to her first question. “The clothes were buried at the back of the closet and in the chifforobe. It was dusty in there. Let me get cleaned off and we can go buy you something to wear.”

Katara nodded. She’d been locked in his closet and was perfectly clean when she came out. It was possible that he had another closet, but she couldn’t imagine it or the large piece of well polished furniture being allowed to get to that state.

The only good thing to come from this situation was learning his ability to lie was worse than hers.