This fic is rated T for language.

The dialogue you no doubt recognize in this chapter is shamelessly lifted from the episode Imprisoned. With some minor tweaking of course. Why reinvent the wheel? Despite the apparent dark beginning, it really doesn't stay that way because I can only handle so much angst. :\

Chapter 1: Twelve Hours

"It is better by noble boldness to run the risk of being subject to half of the evils we anticipate than to remain in cowardly listlessness for fear of what might happen."
– Herodotus

"All that is necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing."
– Edmund Burke

Fire was all around her, walling her in on all sides, pressing close and singeing her hair. She struggled to protect herself from the flames, cruel laughter echoing in her ears. She couldn't get away. She couldn't reach enough water. She couldn't control it. Fingers of flame reached for her and she screamed. Terror gripped her but she held firm. Whatever happened, happened. She would not back down. A voice called to her, pleading desperately, "Stop, Katara, you can't win this fight!"

No, she would not stop. Freedom beckoned to her. Then time stilled. The figure of Death stood before her — No, not Death, just the warden. His face was pulled into a mocking grin. It hurt. The bitter taste of failure. "Listen to him well, child. You're one mistake from dying where you stand."

She lashed out in fear, only to have her attack carelessly brushed aside. The warden sneered. "Foolish girl! You thought a few inspirational words and some coal would change these people? Look at those blank faces. Their spirits were broken long ago. Oh? But you still believe in them? How sweet. They're a waste of your energy, little girl. You've failed."

Chaos erupted. Shouts of pain and the roar of flames filled the air. Someone tackled the warden, another was shouting to run, but it was too late. They were overpowered and her twelve hours were up. They were trapped.

*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*

The cell was cramped and dirty. Filth from the previous occupants was pushed into the corners though that didn't help the smell nor improve the cleanliness. There was a leak in the far left corner that made the whole cell dank and cold. No window or grate let in sunlight or fresh air. It felt like a tomb. And it'd become far too familiar.

Katara lay where the Fire Nation guards had dropped her days ago. If she were still capable of tears, she knew she'd cry; but tears had long since dried. Tears hadn't saved her yet and they only brought more brutal treatment at the hands of her captors. Deadened blue eyes stared into nothing, and not even the rodents that managed to make their way onto the giant steel island drew a rise out of her anymore. Katara's head dropped back to the floor with a dull thump and she closed her eyes. Death would come soon enough.

She'd been naive to expect a prison break to be simple; to think that a few inspiring words from a relatively sheltered girl from the fringes of the war would be all it took to defeat war-hardened soldiers. Her eyes burned, but still no tears came. So many had died in the initial uprising and she'd been unable to do anything despite being surrounded by her element. She wasn't strong enough. She didn't have that much control. She didn't know how to waterbend.

Her memories mocked her. Her optimistic belief that good always triumphed over evil had gotten the best of her. She should have realized that evil had been winning for nearly one hundred years, one fourteen year old girl wasn't about to change that. She'd been a fool. She failed and Haru and a dozen others paid the price. Who were they to stand against the strongest nation in the world? It was only a matter of time before they came for her and then she would have nothing.

The rats scattered and a moment later the lock squealed horribly and the door crashed open. A large form filled the door, his face hidden behind a masked helmet which concealed glinting, malevolent gold eyes. Some inner piece of her recoiled, forcing her body to curl protectively around her vital organs. Rough hands seized her matted hair, violently dragging her to her feet. Pain shuddered through her body, escaping in a quiet gasp that was either unheard or ignored. The treatment to bind her arms was rough, as it had always been, and her skin had already been rubbed raw from previous restraints. The soldier gave the ropes a harsh tug, grunting, "Don't get any ideas. You're coming with me today; get moving!"

The hands shoved her and she stumbled clumsily over her feet before landing in an inelegant heap in the corridor. The firebender flung a vile curse at her followed by a swift kick. A cry escaped her as a rib snapped, reflexive tears escaped her eyes, the first in probably weeks. With a final kick, the guard seized her arm and dragged her down into the bowels of the steel structure. She heard the sounds of human suffering long before they reached their destination. It was a place she knew all too well from her previous bouts of interrogation. Blood, heat, pain, and despair were all the memories she had of the lower levels.

The hot blast of air caused her eyes to water and the warden turned as they entered. His smile was as cold as his eyes despite his friendly tone when he spoke. "Ah, so our little jeohangja arrives at last. A pity you're no good to me here, weak as you are; I'm sure we would've found some," he paused as if to find the right word, "use for you. It's a shame you were so uncooperative. We could've made it worth your while; ensured you went to a good master."

She said nothing, her eyes staring and unseeing. The handle of the whip pushed her chin up and the warden leaned forward, cold gold eyes searching her face. He sharply turned her head to a different angle, eyes sharp and assessing, before he dropped her chin and spoke to the guard who still had a bruising hold on her arm. "She's untouched?"

"Yes, sir."

The warden nodded, moving to the nearby table and leafing through several pages and maps, pausing to consider one. "I suppose the markets are still running?"

The soldier answered in the affirmative and the warden turned a critical gaze back to Katara. "Well, Jeonhangja, you'll fetch a pretty penny at the markets. I'm tempted to try you myself, but I'm more interested in your value unsullied than I am in plucking a savage girl."

For a brief moment, blue eyes flashed with anger and the warden laughed. "Take her away and clean her up. I'm sure the traders will want a medical script for her, see that it's done."

The warden waved a hand in dismissal and Katara was propelled from the room. Once again, she tripped over her own feet, this time crashing into a wall. It had been weeks since she'd used her legs for longer than a few minutes and she could feel her muscles crying under the strain. Her vision swam and darkened as her stomach rolled. When was the last time she ate? A sharp prod in her broken ribs had her shying away with a hiss.

"Get moving, girl."

When she didn't move fast enough, another shop prod forced her to stumble away if only to avoid the pain. It was several faltering steps later that the fog around her brain lifted and the scent of illness and sterilization fluid tickled her nose. A new kind of terror gripped her as the realization of her fate sunk in. She'd prefer death to dishonor any day. Without warning, she ran. Her ribs protested violently, shortening her gasps for air, and her legs felt like she was running through mud.

She must have caught her guard unawares, it was the only explanation she had for how far she'd gotten before he gave a shout of alarm and chased after her. It was a futile attempt, but perhaps they would kill her in the process. Black encroached on her vision as her lungs couldn't pull in enough air and then she was tackled from behind, her breath rushing from her in a pained scream. She wasn't going down without a fight. She kicked. She screamed. She bit. The corridor reverberated with the sound of her fighting and the shouts and orders of several firebenders who'd come at the noise.

A new, younger voice joined the fray, this one yelling protests, "Stop! You're hurting her!"

She sank her teeth into her captor's hand, prompting a pained yell. "Good riddance! She's a demon." She locked her jaw, drawing the coppery taste of blood. "Agni! You have to sedate her!"

"I'm trying! Hold her still."

Fingers pressed beneath her jaw and she could feel her grip loosening against her will. More fingers forced her teeth apart and her captive snatched his hand back with a flurry of curses. A cloth slipped over her nose and mouth and with a few last, weak struggles, she drifted into unconsciousness.

She hovered on the edge of wakefulness, her limbs feeling like lead and her eyes refusing to open. The voices around her sounded like they came from a long way off, echoing hollowing in her head.

"That's going to leave a scar," the younger voice said.

"Great." That was the guard.

There was a speculative hum and the clink of something metallic being moved. "You don't sound too happy about that."

"There's nothing to brag about a half-starved girl nearly taking off a chunk of my flesh with her teeth," the guard snarled.

"How old do you suppose she is?"

"Hell if I know. The bitch has strong jaws. Perhaps you should write a warning on that medical transcript of yours."

"She's so young—"

"Good. She'll fetch a higher price. I don't care what happens after that."

The healer — she decided that's who the young voice was — made a sound of disgust. "That's cruel and sick."

"That's orders," the guard said dismissively. "It's a shame about the hair. Most men are partial to long hair."

"It'll grow back. You better take a lye bath before you return to your quarters. Just as a precaution."

"Great. One more thing to worry about. Sometimes I really hate my job."

Footsteps moved away and Katara felt herself sinking back into oblivion. A whispered sigh reached her ears. "I always hate mine."

jeonhangja - pretty girl

AN: As of March 7, 2016, this story is complete. Chapter edited: September 13, 2016.