Author's Note: I am pleased to finally present something that I have been working on for over three months now. Unfortunately, it's only one third of the way done, but I figured it would be better to split it up into segments rather than post one colossus by the time I finish in June.

Inspired by Tangled, I present to you... this. Enjoy.

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Star Light, Star Bright
Zutara as inspired by Tangled

part one

…

…

"This is the story of how I died.

"Don't worry, this is actually a very fun story, and the truth is that it isn't even mine, really! This is the story of a girl named Katara, and it starts with the moon.

"Once upon a time, the moon and the ocean spirit left the Spirit World and descended to the earth. Tui and La, they were called. Anyway, these spirits blessed the people of the Water Tribes with unique abilities, powers to heal and destroy with the flick of a wrist.

"Centuries passed, and the world became divided. The Fire Nation was trying to destroy the balance that had existed, in order to control power for themselves. However, they feared the Water Tribes unique abilities, because it is said that water will always triumph over fire.

"So they adopted a different strategy.

"They pushed the Water Tribes to the brink of extinction, slowly but surely eliminating their most powerful warriors, until the remaining Water Tribe members were weak and powerless. But the Fire Nation didn't dare interfere with the moon and ocean spirits, so instead of striking a final blow, they adopted a treaty.

"The terms of the treaty were simple. The Fire Nation would not destroy the Water Tribes, and the Water Tribes would not attempt to defend themselves or the other nations.

"And in order to assure good behavior from the Tribes, the Fire Nation would take a tribute - a daughter of each tribe, to be raised in the Fire Nation.

"Reluctantly, sadly, the Tribes accepted. They knew that they couldn't face the full wrath of the Fire Lord, and the daughters of the tribes would face a much worse fate if they tried.

"And so, the Water Tribe Princess were sent away from home, taken into the monolithic Fire Nation ships, and carried across the waters to their new home.

"One of them, Princess Yue of the Northern Water Tribe, would not survive the journey.

"The other, Princess Katara of the Southern Water Tribe, was little more than an infant. And this is her story."

...

...

"…first star I see tonight. I wish I may, I wish I might… star light, star bright." The small girl screwed her eyes shut as she made a wish upon her midnight prayer. And when she was done, her brilliant blue eyes found the steely gray pair that belonged to the man by her side. The embers in the fireplace created great creases in his face, like carved wood, and touches of silver tinged his black hair.

She smiled at him, her tiny cheeks scrunching. He smiled in return and gently smoothed down her messy brown hair. "Good night, Katara. Sleep well."

"Good night, Mister Piandao." For a moment, her face fell into a slight frown. "Will you tell me a story? The one about the Painted Lady?"

He shook his head. "I don't think that would be a good idea."

"Why not?"

Piandao tucked in the covers under her chin and stood up. "You need your sleep, and I have business to attend to. Maybe tomorrow night, okay?" He smiled at her. "Dream sweetly, okay?"

"Okay." She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, followed by another. As Piandao quietly closed the door, he heard her tiny snores. He stood there, listening and thinking.

He had done everything for that child. He and General Iroh had worked so hard to make sure that she, the last daughter of the Southern Water Tribe, would grow up in safety and comfort. He had written letters, petitions. He'd even contributed money to Fire Lord Azulon's personal coffers. And then he had loved her like he would have loved his own daughter. He had given her the best home he possibly could.

But it wasn't her home. And as much as it pained him to admit it, it never would be.

Sighing, he forced himself to walk downstairs. Fat was in the kitchen, having a small egg custard. "Evening, Master," the old butler said stiffly. It didn't seem to matter how many years they'd known each other; Fat refused to act as anything less than a servant. Piandao had given up trying to convince him that the title was ridiculous and gaudy. "Care for a glass of plum wine?"

Piandao shook his head. "Maybe later. What news?"

Fat pointed to a pile of scrolls in the corner. A messenger hawk perched nearby, head tucked under its wing. "Fire Lord Azulon inquired about the girl's progress. Prince Lu Ten sent a letter, thanking you for your training, since it saved his life in battle. The King of Omashu requests news of the girl on behalf of her family in the South. And... there was another request. For you to provide training for a youngster."

Piandao glanced at the scrolls. "Thank you, Fat." He contemplated his responses. "Write to the Fire Lord. Tell him that her calligraphy is coming along nicely, and that she has practically memorized the royal lineage up to five generations. And... mention her progress with the pipa. That should do. Same to King Bumi... except mention her health and general wellbeing."

His face softened. If Katara could not be with her true family, then the least he could do was make sure that they received every bit of news he could send without attracting the scrutiny of the Fire Lord. Strictly speaking, he wasn't supposed to send information on the Water Tribe Princess to anyone except Azulon himself.

"And the other two?" Fat had already pulled out a new scroll and began priming his brush to create the correct symbols on it.

"I'll write those myself." Piandao smiled as he found the two scrolls in question and unravelled them to read the text within. "I'll see if I can give Lu Ten any more advice on his fighting techniques; goodness knows he'll need it, fighting on the front like he is. And as for the other one…"

He began reading. And he continued reading, eyebrows steadily ascending towards his receding hairline.

Well. This was interesting. This was interesting indeed.

...

...

She liked the autumn best. Summer was too hot, and while she liked to watch snow cover the barren grounds, fall was the time when she could play in the big piles of leaves, and run around the grounds playing make-believe. Fat made her favorite pies, and Mister Piandao read her stories every night. There were her old favorites, like the Painted Lady and the Cave of Two Lovers, but he added new stories, stories of political intrigue and great battles.

Sometimes, she would ask if the stories he told had actually happened. With the fairy tales, Piandao had always said that no one would ever know if they were true, but the newer stories ended frequently with a flat "No". Even Katara, with her transparent child eyes, could tell that he was lying.

Still, it didn't bother her too much. She wasn't allowed outside the mansion, and the Fire Nation was the safest place in the world. They were going to win the war, and there was a treaty with the Water Tribes. She and her homeland would be safe.

So she went back to pretending to be the Painted Lady in the garden pond.

Her favorite game, however, was the game she played whenever Master Piandao had a visitor. He had warned her not to speak to any of the strangers who sought training from the master swordsman, and that it would be best if she was not seen by them at all. And so they never saw her.

However, the rejects often received a drenching on their way out, when the young girl found out that she could direct water over the outer wall and onto their heads, just before dissolving into giggles.

Yes, she was a waterbender. And she'd found that out by mistake, when Piandao's good friend General Iroh came by the manor to share tea and a conversation.

Piandao had told her that it was okay for her to stay downstairs, but she wasn't supposed to speak to Prince Iroh unless spoken to, for he was very important.

Even at the age of four, she understood about being quiet, and that it would be very rude for a child (even as important a child as Katara) to speak out of turn, particularly to the crown prince of the Fire Nation.

But everyone knows that four year olds have a limited tolerance for adults who aren't paying attention to them. Fortunately, Iroh practically welcomed such exuberant youngsters.

In fact, he seemed quite familiar with it.

Katara watched the men from beyond the doorframe, peering around the corner as though those amber eyes might burn her if she got too close. Still, she couldn't actually manage to think of him as an intimidating man, not with that belly-shaking laugh of his. Not to mention, his jokes were positively hilarious.

That was what gave her away, actually. As the crown prince jovially poured himself another cup of tea and bantered onward regarding the proper way to brew the stuff, she let out a small peal of laughter, quickly clamping her hands over her mouth. The two men looked up - one in surprise, at having not noticed her presence beforehand, and the other in mirth as golden eyes met sapphire.

"And you must be Katara," he said gently. "I've heard quite a bit about you. Won't you join us for a nice cup of jasmine tea?"

She clambered up into the third chair and accepted her tea with a soft, "thank you," but before anyone could stop her, she took a hasty gulp, realizing all too quickly that the brew was scaldingly hot.

She cried out in pain, eyes darting frantically around in search of a cool liquid to soothe. Piandao stood up to get her some water, and Iroh patted her back. But as they all watched tears run down Katara's face, all three cups of tea stopped steaming, stood completely still, and froze over.

"Well," said Piandao.

Iroh grinned widely. "The Fire Lord does not need to know about this." He cracked his own tea cup open like the shell of an egg and enlisted a small flame on the tip of his finger to melt the chunk of ice to a manageable size. "Here, little one. This will help."

And so it did, and so she learned how to bewitch the rain from the skies above.

If there was anything she liked better than the autumn, it would be the rainy days. Days when the garden pond wasn't the only puddle to splash around in. Even the days when lightning flashed across the sky, and she could huddle in the kitchen and watch the storm through the window. The precipitation soothed her, just as the sound of a mother humming a lullaby to an infant.

It was, in fact, during a tropical rainstorm that he arrived. He, being Piandao's newest prospective student. Some punk-ass nobleman's son with no sense of respect for his elders, as far as she was concerned. Watching him approach the front gate from between two iron gateposts, she narrowed her eyes and hoped that her guardian would have some particularly harsh words for a kid like him. After all, he probably deserved it.

No, scratch that. He definitely deserved it!

As she heard the neigh of an ostrich horse and the sound of footsteps sloshing through the mud toward the gate, she darted past Fat and sprinted toward the study. Piandao held an opened scroll before him, looking up as Katara entered. "Katara? Is something wrong?" he asked, noticing her heavy breathing.

She shook her head, hand rising to her throat and brushing her necklace. "No, Mister Piandao. There's a visitor, and I wanted to hide before he arrived."

The aging man frowned subtly. "A visitor? Do you mean-"

Fat opened the door to the study, knocking on the frame. "Master Piandao, Prince Zuko has arrived to formally request his sword training."

Katara's jaw dropped. Prince Zuko? "Excellent. Tell him that he is expected and show him to his private chambers. I expect he will be staying for at least a few days." Turning to the girl, he smiled. "Normally I consider it unwise for you to interact with my students, but I believe Prince Zuko is an exception. Not right now, though, since I have much to discuss with him."

As Piandao left the room to meet the prince, Katara pouted slightly. That boy, that child she had seen on the road, was a prince of the Fire Nation? She knew his name - Prince Zuko, first child of Prince Ozai, who was second child of Fire Lord Azulon; brother of Princess Azula; nephew of Crown Prince Iroh; cousin of Prince Lu Ten. Firebenders, the lot of them. She'd known those names for years. And yet, she'd always imagined the royalty as a group of regal adults, towering over her with authority and power.

But if the royal bloodline carried potent firebending along with it, why was the fourth-in-line prince training to be a swordsman?

Regardless, her curiosity was enormous, and Mister Piandao had told her that she could talk to him. And so when Piandao was done talking with him about... whatever it is they were talking about, she was waiting for him in the kitchen.

He spotted her immediately, leaning up against the counter with her arms crossed over her chest. She imagined herself quite fearsome in appearance - that is, if you were to disregard the fact that he was was a foot taller than her, as well as the pair of dao swords slung over his back.

"So you're Prince Zuko, son of Ozai and Ursa."

Instead of catching him by surprise, her words merely angered him. "So? What about it?"

She glowered back. "Nothing. I was just trying to figure out what some loser is doing in my house."

"Your house?" he countered. "This belongs to Master Piandao. You're just a servant."

Prince or not, he obviously didn't know what he was talking about. And that left it up to Katara to inform him. "Servant? What makes you think I'm a servant?"

"I dunno, maybe the fact that Master Piandao doesn't have a wife, so he obviously can't have any kids. Stupid." He glared at her.

"Well, that doesn't mean I'm a servant. I'm the princess of the Southern Water Tribe." She scowled. "Now who's stupid, stupid."

His expression faltered, but then he pointed at her, fury renewed. "You're lying! There is no royalty from the Southern Water Tribe. They're just a bunch of snow-dwelling peasants."

That was it. She walked towards him, blinking steadily, until she was right up in his face. He didn't back up, but she certainly wiped that smug glare off his face. "Are you calling me a snow-dwelling peasant?" she snapped.

"No!" he said, a note of desperation entering his voice. "I was saying that you aren't a snow-dwelling peasant, so you can't be their princess. So there." Obviously, this line of logic made complete sense to him, and he clearly wasn't going to change his mind with her words.

So she bent cold tea out of a nearby pot and onto his head.

...

...

She didn't speak to Zuko again after that. She did, however, watch him train with Master Piandao every day, gloomily hanging out her bedroom window and moping. After all, they usually trained near her garden pond, making it impossible for her to spend time outside while they were there.

Zuko spent a month training before his return to the royal palace. Katara had never been happier to see someone leave her home - even if she couldn't bend pond-water onto his head as he vanished into the distance.

And as she settled into bed and into another fairy tale that night, Katara smiled to herself. Everything would be back to normal now.

Except that was when everything started to change.

"Mister Piandao," she began a few days before her ninth birthday, "why don't you ever tell me stories anymore?" And it was true; she couldn't remember the last time he'd stayed by her side and told her a bedtime story. "I miss them."

His creased face wrinkled in soft sadness. "Sorry, Katara. It's just very hard to believe in fairy tales these days." He smoothed her hair down. "Maybe you should make up your own stories and tell me."

So she started making up stories. Instead of pretending to be the Painted Lady, she invented a tale about a Water Tribe princess (not herself - someone much more beautiful) who fell in love with the moon. But Piandao spent less and less time at home; he would disappear for days at a time, returning late at night and spending his days in his study, reading over documents and meeting with military men who never smiled.

And one day, she was playing in the rock garden when none other than Prince Iroh showed up - except he was not the same Prince Iroh she had met when she was four; this man was a man whose only reason to live was grief, a man who carried the weight of the world.

This time, she hid from him and did not leave her room until he had gone. After that, Katara found Master Piandao crying, and even though she didn't understand why he cried, she cried with him.

A few weeks passed before the news trickled down to Katara. Prince Lu Ten, killed on the battlefield. Fire Lord Azulon, assassinated. Princess Ursa, banished. Prince Iroh, stripped of his birthright.

It was Fat who told her what was going on, since Master Piandao had gone away. Only after the swordsman returned did she realize what this would mean for her.

Because it was Fire Lord Azulon who had made a treaty with the Water Tribes, and it was Fire Lord Azulon who had agreed to let the Southern Princess be raised away from the royal palace, without any contact apart from that which her guardian permitted.

Fire Lord Ozai had nothing to do with any of it.

Piandao was worried, very worried. Katara could tell because he no longer accepted students, and she wasn't allowed on the grounds anymore unless he accompanied her. He began teaching her how to play Pai Sho, but she didn't care about games. She still listened to the stories on the wind.

Finally, something happened. However, it wasn't the thing that Katara hoped would happen.

A new friend arrived.

She was shorter than Katara, and her clothes weren't nearly as soft and warm, but she walked like a tigerdillo preparing to pounce on her prey. Her name was Azula, and Katara recognized her instantly as the second child of Fire Lord Ozai. Unlike her brother, she made an effort to befriend the Water Tribe girl. And unlike Zuko, Azula didn't make her angry; she terrified her.

"So, Katara. Have you ever seen the world outside this... house? If you could even call it that." The princess stared with disdain at the rock garden, which she had claimed as her personal training ground. Supposedly, Katara was to train with her, but the 'training session' had turned into a deadly, precise game of dodgeball. It was Katara's tiny garden pond against all the heat Azula could muster, and that was quite a bit.

The waterbender stared at the floor, concentrating on not revealing the extent of her bending abilities to Azula. "No, I haven't. And it's a very nice house, I can show you-"

"There's nothing here I want to see. I'm here for you! You should be grateful, I didn't have to come all the way here just to meet you." Azula ran a thumb down Katara's cheek, and she suppressed a slight shiver. "You should come back to the palace with me. Live like the royalty you are."

"I don't know..." Katara looked away and swallowed down the bile in her stomach. "Master Piandao is like a father to me. I couldn't leave him yet."

"Oh, all right. I wouldn't want you to sacrifice your 'family', so to speak, just to please me." A cheshire grin, eyes narrowing. "Of course, that just means I'll have to come back here every few months to see you!"

Katara could say nothing. Azula wasn't someone to disappoint.

And she kept her promises. Every year at the breaking of the long winter night, the princess would arrive, her palaquin floating down the road like something from a dream. She would bring gifts, since supposedly Katara's birthday was in the wintertime (though not even she knew for sure). Once, she even brought two more friends, a cheery girl and a gloomy one.

But despite the wealth and splendor that the princess brought, each visit's conclusion left Katara with a writhing pit in her stomach, dreading the next year.

Meanwhile, Master Piandao spent more and more time away from the mansion. Supposedly, he was in the Capital, lobbying for guardianship of Katara. She had no idea how successful his efforts were; all she knew was that she wouldn't want to anger the Fire Lord by shunting his daughter.

Until one day, fate came along and changed everything yet again.

It was the spring after her eleventh birthday, with the rain pouring heavily over the courtyard and causing the garden pond to overflow. Katara spent the morning gazing into the downpour, not particularly wanting to expose herself to the elements. She was preparing to head to the kitchen to find something to eat when she heard the bleating of a pair of ostrich-horses approaching, with a total of three passengers.

Piandao came first, leading the way on an ostrich-horse that she recognized by the distinctive coloring of the feathers around its neck. He dismounted and landed on his feet at a run, dashing to the gate and throwing them wide open.

Katara called from the porch, waving in delight. But her cry of joy transformed into a shout and she raced out into the rain when she saw the second beast.

It was Iroh. In his arms he carried a much smaller figure, wrapped in his own red cloak. The fabric dwarfed the boy, swallowing him whole. The child was Prince Zuko, a boy she had met just once years before, and he was dead.

"Not dead," murmured Iroh as Katara peeled back his oversized blanket, dreading what she would see. "But he needs help, he needs care... you're the only waterbender in the Fire Nation..." Katara pretended that the liquid pooling in his eyes was only rain. It was impossible to ignore her own tears, however.

She squeezed her eyes shut, and then opened them him again. "I'll do what I can." The girl was silent until finally, she found his face beneath all the satin fabric (now stained with mud), and…

Katara didn't know what she had expected, but it wasn't this. Anything but this.

"How did this happen?" she asked, her fingers hovering an inch from the burnt skin. She needed to touch the wound, to see if she could even do anything to help, but it frightened her. The charred skin separated from his face like old paint, flaking off onto the unmarred skin around his eye. Eyebrow, gone. Eyelashes, gone. Ear, mauled like a butterfly in a hurricane. He would never regrow the delicate hairs on his face, and she feared that he may have lost his vision in that eye. This was no training accident. "Who did this?"

Iroh's face hardened, and for a moment Katara was afraid he was going to slap her, but then he sighed the sigh of a man with too much grief. "Someone he should have been able to trust." He paused. "His father."

She put her hands on his chest and wrung the water out of his clothes. They put a fire in the stove, and she set to work, crushing aloe and honey into a poultice and holding a wet rag to the wound. He mumbled deliriously in his sleep, and she wondered why she'd hated him so much.

After all, he was just a boy. Just a kid, a kid who had lost his mother and been hurt badly by his father. Maybe a bit prejudiced, but he was young, and he would change. And nothing he had done deserved... this.

She worked diligently and quickly, trying to prevent the damage from spreading as much as possible. But there's only so much one person can do, and all the diligence and speed in the world could not have saved the Fire Prince's eye.

He never woke up. Not while he was there, at least. Iroh thanked her quietly and took him away, to recuperate alone. As they disappeared into the distance, Katara felt herself spiraling, spiraling downward. She had failed. It had been her duty to save him, and she had failed.

After that, she stopped dreaming.

...

...

Azula didn't return that year, nor did she return the next. The days grew long and fearful, and Master Piandao rarely returned home.

Katara spent her days trying to keep the mansion. No more practicing swordplay at dawn or listening to stories of the history of the world. She learned how to keep the rock garden tidy. She cultivated the lily pads that had begun to spread across the garden pond. She dusted and swept and made sure that rat-vipers weren't eating the tomes in the library.

And she spent every moment of spare time she could find practicing her waterbending. Never again would she fail someone who needed her. Never again.

More often than not, she found herself waiting. For what, she didn't know. But she did know that she wasn't meant to be standing here, water coming up to her knees, with nowhere else to go.

At thirteen years of age, Katara could feel herself stagnating, and she didn't like that.

Stranger things began happening. Not only was Master Piandao absent most of the time, but he had few visitors. Prince Iroh did not return after that fateful day in the rain, and few students came knocking on the front door. When they did come, Fat would not answer, and they usually went away after a bit.

Unconsciously, Katara began collecting things. She started with the smallest of things - a set of silverware, a book of maps - but her collection grew, and soon there were items all laid out carefully under the floorboards of her room. A cookbook, a sleeping bag, some parchment, ink... she only pulled them out if the urge to learn how to cook or to make a map struck her. And sometimes, she would drag her sleeping bag down to the garden pond and fall asleep under the moon, hand clenched around the empty space above her throat as if there was something missing.

Despite the feeling that the world was not as it was meant to be, Katara never found herself bored. There was always something to do, and if there wasn't, then she made something to entertain herself. There were always more books in the library than she would ever be able to read, and there was always more waterbending practice to be had.

That winter, Azula returned. She came alone, and she was not the same girl that had frightened eight-year-old Katara. She seemed more terrible, more dangerous, but Katara couldn't bring herself to hate this girl, because she understood that dangerous people are made to become that way by the things they themselves fear.

So Katara made it her business to figure out what it was that Azula feared.

"Why would I fear Father? He loves me. He cares about me. He knows I'm better than Zuko." The princess shot a glare at Katara. "Well? Aren't I?"

"Of course," she said slowly. "But... are you sure that he really hated Zuko? I mean, he must have, in order to have given him that scar like that." Azula had been more than happy to give Katara the exact details of the Agni Kai that had resulted in the Prince's banishment.

"Perhaps..." Azula seemed to consider. She lay on her back, staring at the sky from her spot on the grassy hillside. "He didn't fear Zuko... it was more like annoyance. Zuko was an annoyance. Good riddance," she added, bitterness in her voice. Jealousy? Or something else?

Katara was about to press further, oh-so-gently prodding open old wounds so that she could look inside, but Azula spoke again, anger entering her voice. "Besides, it was his fault, all of it! If he hadn't spoken out of turn, then he could have stayed." Her lower lip bulged, like a stubborn child. "His fault."

Neither girl said anything for a long while, until Katara finally had the gall to ask, "What was it like? Being there?"

Waiting for an answer, she watched a leaf, faded to a crisp brown, detach from its branch and drift to the ground. What did it feel like, to be separated from your family, from your home, and sent away? She couldn't remember; maybe that was for the better.

"I laughed." Katara looked up, startled, but she saw Azula's lips move and stared in disbelief. "I laughed when he fell. And I never saw him again." She blinked. "Mother was right... I am a monster."

And despite the part of her that screamed, 'yes, this girl is hopeless,' Katara sat down next to Azula, put a hand into hers. "People make mistakes," she said firmly. "Your brother made a mistake, talking out of turn. And maybe you made one too. But you can make it right..."

"You stupid peasant! You can never understand, you don't have a brother..." A single tear slid down the girl's face. "I can never fix this. Zuko isn't going to come back. He's banished, to look for a man that's been missing for a century." A choked laugh, and then a strangled sob. "He's not coming back to me this time."

All the words in the world could not have comforted the Fire Princess then, so for once, Katara said nothing at all.

...

...

Sometimes, it takes a lifetime to make a decision. Sometimes, it takes three years at sea on a wild goose chase. And sometimes, it takes all of ten seconds - choose, aim, fire.

But Katara's decision - the one that would decide who lives, who dies, who stays, who goes - her decision took a month. A month of agonizing, debating, plotting, mourning, training. A month to take back everything that belonged to her. A month to abandon everything that had been given to her.

Katara was going to leave the Fire Nation, and she was going to find a home.

Home? What was home? It used to be this place, this mansion where she could run around and tell stories and live. Now, though, she wasn't sure. Master Piandao hadn't returned home in half a year, and every time she tried to ask Fat what had happened to him (or to Azula, or Iroh, or anyone, really) he shook his head and offered her food.

If home was where the heart was, this wasn't home. Not anymore.

But where to go? Not the Southern Water Tribe, not yet. The waterbender had read too much about the Earth Kingdom, about the cultures and history and beauty of the other Nations; she wouldn't go south forever quite yet. Besides, they would know to look for her in the south pole if she ran away. What would be the point of escaping, only to be dragged back to the Fire Nation?

She would go to Ba Sing Se. The Impenetrable City. The Fire Nation would never get her there, and she would blend into the thousands of refugees who traveled there every day. She would settle into anonymity and make a life, at least for a little while.

So she kept hiding things. And before another month had passed, she had enough supplies to get her all the way to Ba Sing Se, even if she had to walk there.

But Fate had other plans, it seemed, because the day she planned to leave, she encountered a new obstacle, in the form of a finger pressed to her lips for silence.

Thinking fast, she wildly flung her arms over her head, bending her cup of tea onto the intruder. Black clothing, blue mask, she wasn't going to let herself be attacked so easily. She drew the liquid back off his body and attacked again, slicing whichever way she could, before knocking him back to thud against the closed door to her bedroom.

"Who are you? And why are you in my house?" she snarled, withdrawing the water to strike again. The man was bleeding from several small slashes across his chest and shoulders. Only fourteen, eh? she thought grimly, remembering a time just after her last birthday when Piandao had warned her not to go looking for trouble.

"Katara! It's me!" He frantically scrambled to take the mask off, and when he did...

"...Zuko?" She glared in hesitant surprise. The last time she'd seen the prince, he had been dying from cold and from pain. Three years later, he was a different person.

And there was the scar. Even three years old, the puckered red flesh tore across his image, ruined ear and eyebrow standing out against the pale skin of his right cheek. She winced and turned away, reminded once more of her failure.

"...where's Master Piandao?" he asked after shaking himself out of his stupor. "I need to talk to him."

"He's... not here." No one was ever here anymore. It had been almost a week since she'd seen another human. "Why are you...? I thought you were banished!"

"I am," he grunted.

"So... why are you here? 'Banished' usually means you're not allowed to come back to the Fire Nation at all."

For a minute, Katara thought he wasn't going to answer. "The rules have changed. Where is Master Piandao, if he isn't here." He pulled down his hood and wiped specks of blood off his stomach. Katara saw that he kept his head shaved, except for a thick bundle of hair at the crown of his head. Just enough for a topknot.

She scowled and walked to the window. Overcast, humid, slightly windy. It would rain later. "That's none of your business. You should get out, before you're discovered."

He moved like a tiger; it took him all of two seconds to cross the room and pin her arm to the wall. "Who's going to discover me? The turtleducks down at the pond? No one except you has been here for a long time."

Most girls would have been terrified. Not Katara. She glared right back at him. "For your information, Your Highness, I'm not afraid of you. You can't put a finger on me!"

"Says who?"

"Says the treaty." She had read the treaty, over and over until the words had become engraved in her brain. "If you, the son of the Fire Lord, harm me, then the Water Tribes will have no reason not to attack the Fire Nation troops." A bluff, albeit a good one.

And he bit. "...fine. But I'm not going to leave until I find what I'm looking for."

Katara scowled. "And what, exactly, are you looking for?"

Zuko unlocked and opened the door, walking cautiously into the hallway. "A book. It would be a very delicate book, mostly used for record-keeping and storing handwritten letters."

Following him, Katara said, "Well, I haven't seen any books like that in the study. What makes you think that Master Piandao has what you're looking for?"

The prince ignored the question and proceeded past the stairs, toward another important room of the house. "He wouldn't be keeping it in his study." And with that, Zuko kicked down the door to Master Piandao's bedroom.

"What are you doing?" she cried, but he ignored her once again and waltzed straight into the room as if he owned the place. He muttered something to himself as he scanned the room, looking for books of any kind.

Behind him, Katara was still shouting, refusing to enter the bedroom. "Once Master Piandao finds out you've been in here, he'll never forgive you! You won't find what you're looking for anyway, and I'll have to clean up your mess! I-"

Again, he was lithe as a mooselion as he approached her, keeping his distance but pointing one of his dao swords at her chest. "Would you shut up? I know what I'm doing, It's not like my actions here could disgrace me further." He sheathed the weapon and pulled her by the hand into the room. "Now. The sooner you help me out here, the sooner I can leave, and we'll both be perfectly happy again."

"Whatever you say," she muttered as she began looking. She had never been in this room before, considering it heavily impolite to intrude upon someone's personal space without permission. And yet, here she was, accompanied by none other than the Prince of the Fire Nation. She had to admit, she didn't feel nearly as guilty about her inability to save his eye...

...a thought that caused the waterbender to look up at Zuko. As he scanned the room, his scarred eye remained half-closed and almost immobile. Even if he could see with it, his sight was undoubtedly very poor. She bit her lip and looked away. Maybe, just maybe, he needed her help in order to do something as simple as finding a stupid book.

Finally, they found it. It was Katara who opened the closet and pushed aside the garish garments to find a small alcove, with a stack of books. Carefully setting aside the ancient tomes on top, she gently pulled apart yellowed pages like crackling leaves. This had to be it. Had to.

"Here!" she exclaimed. She had to admit, she was actually excited to see what was so secret and precious that Master Piandao had not placed the book in his study. Zuko looked up, his ponytail swishing stupidly along with his movement. She made a mental note that, if she ever saw him again, she would cut it off in his sleep. What a terrible hairstyle.

But when he opened the book, his expression was not one of joy, but of despair. "What is it now?!" she exclaimed, staring at the banished prince with an eyebrow raised. "You have your book, so... get out of here!"

He bristled, drawing himself up like a threatened tiger. "How do you even know this is the right one?! It's in gobbledeegook! This is useless!"

"Gobbledeegook?!" she screeched. "You idiot, that's Air Nomad script-" And suddenly her voice slowed and her eyes widened. "...you don't know how to read Air Nomad, do you?"

Zuko blinked. "Why would I?" he demanded. "They're dead!"

Katara raised an eyebrow and snorted. "Yeah, because that's a good reason not to know the language that your country destroyed." She snatched the book from him, contemplating whacking him over the head with it all the while, and opened it to read the necessary information so that he would finally leave.

And then... and then she had a better idea.

"Well?" he asked. "Are you going to tell me what it says or not?!" His arms were crossed over his chest. She looked up and down him disdainfully; did he somehow think that the tight clothing he wore would somehow make him more attractive? Because he was not attractive. Stupid ponytail. Stupid bulky muscles. So much for a sword fighter, anyway. Sword fighters didn't carry themselves like their limbs were made of stone.

She crossed her arms and tapped her foot. "Maybe," she said, cruelly allowing the words to slide across her teeth. "But first, I want you to do something for me."

"And what would that be?" replied the banished prince, scowling. Katara smirked. He had no idea.

...

...