TW: Dubious consent, dissociative identity
/
infinity times infinity
She doesn't remember how it happened as much as she remembers every detail of what followed.
Aang's eyes, Sokka's yell, the way the Fire Prince had smirked, his uncle's startling cries. And then her mind had gone black and blank.
That was the last time she had seen the sun. Now the darkness sits on her head like a vice. She misses the sky, the sea, even the brisk weather of the pole. She knows that the ship is no longer there because the air's humidity has increased. She'd tried to bend it but her arms had failed to move.
She's not physically weak. They feed her and clothe her. But mentally she's falling apart and bending takes willpower. She doesn't have much of that in this dingy cell with her only human interaction being the motion of pails of water and food pushed in here once in a while. She thinks she's losing her mind. It's been too long. She tries to count lines in the wall but she can't accurately understand the movements of the sun from so deep inside the ship.
At first she thought that Sokka and Aang would come for her. Maybe her father. But they haven't yet and a large part of her has given up. Sometimes she clutches her mother's betrothal necklace and just stares at the wall. She hopes that they will win, at least.
She's doing this when her door creaks open for the first time in ages — the smaller window her food comes through isn't large enough to fit her. She'd tried it many times before she settled into her fate. The opening is accompanied by a little bit of light and she ducks her head down to avoid it from getting into her eyes. A part of her thinks about escaping but in a blink it's gone.
When her eyes adjust there is an old man in front of her, his eyes wide and hair long. His features are so pale and Fire Nation and well-groomed and she knows who this is. She recalls a name and an uncle. Anger is at the forefront of her mind but she compartmentalizes it and just stares at him with her eyes wide. She doesn't care what he wants. She won't feel it. She keeps the Katara that would be in a box in her mind — the Katara who can bend a little, and who played with the children, and who was always strong and incendiary. The man's eyebrows furrow and he almost looks concerned.
She remembers how that happened. The way he drew her outside and had her replace her clothes, had her put into another room. The apologetic look on his face, the tea he joined her for every day. She didn't talk for as long as she could even though her insides screamed at her. It had been so long since she'd spoken.
She remembers him saying that it had been half a year. That doesn't feel that long. She'd felt like she was in there forever. When he says that she frowns but does not say anything and finishes her tea. He looks at her with sheer misery written across his face.
Often she thinks about Sokka and her father and the airbender. She knows that the boy who had trapped her here, the disgraced Fire Nation boy, is no longer here, and she feels a little safe. One day she lets Iroh accompany her to the deck of the ship. Her clothes are red, fire red, and they show off her bony ribs and lost allegiance. The sun blinds her but the sea doesn't call her anymore. She wants to reach out to the waves inside of her but they don't seem to reciprocate. It's as if they don't belong to her.
That is when she opens her mouth again to ask the old man the only question in her mind. Her voice cracks, unused as it is. He never talks to her about war. "Where is the Avatar?"
His eyebrow moves up before he looks utterly devastated, as if he's just now realizing how lost she is. "Dead."
She goes down to her room with her face stuck in a nowhere. There is no place to go from here. Sometimes she is angry at herself for being weak; sometimes she is glad that she is anything.
/
dust of dust
The Fire Nation Prince is back. She has hatred in her heart for him. Even though she can't remember that moment very well. She's sure he has destroyed everything she has ever loved. Her mother's necklace is alive against her chest. There is color in her cheeks again.
She stays in her room and Iroh does not ask her to come out. It's when she's walking the hall to see the sky once more that she is stopped by a man who has a scar across his face. He looks familiar to the old Katara, but the new one does not know who she is looking at. He gives her a strange and imperious glance before growing confused.
"You're the water tribe girl."
Some part of her nods.
"You are still here?"
Her head moves; she cannot tell what direction but it seems to pacify him. She does not want him to be angry. The box is trying to tell her something.
Iroh moves in the hallway behind him, and he is there before she has a second to think, between the two of them. "Zuko," he says, his voice cautionary. "I trust you are not bothering Katara?"
He sounds angry. Iroh is never angry. Katara frowns and the man named Zuko is staring her in her eyes. She isn't here right now but she thinks his are gold. Strange.
"Katara," he breathes. "The Avatar's friend, wasn't she? A prisoner?"
"The war is over, nephew," he spits. "She is my guest."
"Very well, Katara," he sounds out, looking over her. "It is my pleasure to see you again."
Iroh looks terrified as the other man retreats, and she points her head out in inquiry. The man is odd but he was not rude, was he? He at least tried to talk to her, unlike the others on the ship. "Stay away from him, Katara."
She blinks.
"Do you understand? Stay away!"
/
dark and dark
Iroh isn't there the next time she sees him. They're alone. It's just them. The sky is dark and he is breathing fire.
She quirks her eyebrows at that. Iroh never firebends in front of her. It's strange to see how the flames reflect in the moon's light. When he notices her he stops and beckons her over to him. She doesn't remember her feet moving but they do, and then she is a few feet away from him. He is warm.
"You're a waterbender, aren't you? You tried to waterbend."
Her mind is confused. She thinks about it for a second and then gives him a slightly beseeching look. He doesn't look especially cruel as he glances at her. "Can you waterbend?"
She shakes her head. His eyes are stormy but they look like they are having a revelation. "No," he says, delicately, "you can't, can you?"
She just stares at him and he takes his warm hand and places it over hers. She jumps a little at the warmth but then settles into it. It feels fine. She can live with it. She can. Her box screeches and she closes her eyes trying to keep it closed. She doesn't care what's inside of it anymore. She wants to throw away old Katara.
His eyes are on her and she is empty. And then he starts talking. "I am taking back the Fire Nation."
She doesn't quite grasp what that means so she stays still. "My uncle thinks I am a terrible person. I wanted my honor. My sister and I are taking it back," he sighs. "Do you think I am a terrible person?"
He wants an answer, and she doesn't truly know, so she shakes her head. "I am, am I not? Who are you? What happened to you?"
The box has a lot of answers to that question but she stays quiet and frozen. What happened to her? She is nothing and nobody. Her mind is not hers even if her body barely is.
His fingers wrap around hers and hers incrementally tighten as well. "Will you be here, tomorrow?"
Some part of her is scared of consequences, so she goes.
/
young and young
Iroh comes to see her sometimes. Azula has long grown tired of her and the way she doesn't react to her instigations. Zuko spends his spare moments with her but she usually sits alone in the courtyard.
She's an outsider here but more people give her pitying glances than incendiary ones. She's the Fire Lord's poor Water Tribe girl, not a concubine but not distinguished, a war prize of no victory. She gets respect if nothing else. She doesn't really care.
She likes sitting in the courtyard and playing with the turtleducks. She likes staring out the window. She likes going around in the markets and seeing the people who are happy now that the war is over. She likes seeing their emotions because she has none.
She just exists. And somewhere in the back of her mind, she feels like that is why Zuko likes her — loves her, he says. She is a mistake and she is pliant to his fixations. He cannot fix everything he has done but he can bandage over her mind.
He's not so terrible, she will admit. But the box sings he is her captor he does not have a right to touch you this is not peace and she places it back. To open it would be to acknowledge conflict. She doesn't want to. There is nothing left of old Katara and she doesn't want to upset anyone and have to go back in a cell. Zuko lets her do everything but leave him.
Where would she go?
She speaks in small sentences. "Yes," she will go for her dress fitting. "No," she does not want tea today. She is treated like glass. Sometimes even Azula gives her a look of sadness and tries to cajole more out of her, but she stares blankly.
In bed, she moans when she needs to and breathes small words while he talks for both of them. He weaves tales about love and sacrifice and everything to her and she listens but does not comprehend.
"I love you, so, so much, Katara," he breathes and pants. "My princess."
She's surprised when he gives her a necklace.
/
infinity times infinity times infinity
She wanders the market stalls, the guard behind her keeping a slight distance. She likes observing the people, likes smiling and likes existing here. The box says they call her the mad lady, because she is, but she really doesn't think much of it.
Then there is nothing and she remembers a moment so long ago — remembers a yell and what used to be a family. She thinks she is entering her mind again when she sees someone that looks so much like —
"Katara?"
He looks so similar and yet older, an adult. There is a girl next to him with a painted face who she doesn't know. She frowns. This is . . .
He stares at her, at her confused expression, and something in his eyes shatters. "It's me, Katara. Sokka?"
That thought is firmly stuck in her mind, old Katara let out a bit. "Sokka?" her voice cracks.
He rushes at her and she is trapped in his arms — it feels so different, so good, so right, like a part of her is missing. "Oh, Katara," he says into her hair before pulling away. "What . . . what happened to you? You're . . . the Fire Lady?"
Her eyebrows twist and she nods. He waits for more but it doesn't come, and then he looks even more heartbroken. The girl behind him walks up and whispers something in his ear, and then he asks, "What happened to you?"
A tear leaves her eye and she doesn't know what to say.
/
AN: This isn't really supposed to be a happy ending. I'm a little tired of seeing capture fics where they jump each other after a few days. Let me know what you guys think about this concept :)