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zkmythicalcreaturesweek · 3 years

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Check out these mythical creature ficlets from Sav featuring witch!Katara and mermaid!Katara

she sings heathen songs by the light of the moon

The night was dark and unforgiving, devoid of a moon and the starlight obscured by a thick blanket of fog. It was an ominous night, but it wasn’t enough to deter Zuko, disgraced witch hunter, from his quest.

Tonight he was on the trail of a savage witch that legend said could control the blood of men and force them to her will. They called her the Painted Lady; they whispered it in fear, as though by uttering her name they might summon her and rain death upon their villages.

But Zuko was not afraid. He had killed a dozen witches by now. He had his weapons, his protections. He might not have been the prodigy that his sister was. He might not have brought honor to his father the way that Azula did. But Zuko knew he was strong and capable.

This witch would not live to see dawn.

Zuko tracked her to the witch’s den she was reported to live in. He readied his dao swords, dipped in a concoction that was supposed to harm witches. He was not afraid.

But as he approached, the fog seemed to thicken. He could feel the heavy moisture in the air. A chill ran down his spine as gooseflesh crawled across his skin, but before he could turn back, before he could run, there came a great roaring sound, and suddenly, Zuko was swept away in a deluge of freezing water.

He yelled as his blades were wrenched from his grip, as the water carried—no, it seemed to push— him back, away from the witch’s den. The water washed over his face, choking him and blinding him at once. Zuko couldn’t find purchase; his hands grappled uselessly against the water that seemed to be alive, slippery and impossible to fight.

At last, the water stopped. Zuko lay with his chest heaving and heart thundering in his chest. But before he could fully recover, there was suddenly a sharp pearl dagger pressed against his throat.

In the moonless night, her eyes were like dark wine, like the sea at sunset. But the red and gold marks on her skin nearly seemed to glow, even as she was cast in shadow by the wide-brimmed hat she wore. Her teeth, white and straight, flashed in a vicious snarl.

“Fool,” she hissed. “You’ve brought your own death upon your head.”

And her voice was like a melody more sweet than any instrument or bard could play. It sent a shiver down his spine, but this shiver was different. It wasn’t fear or wariness, it was…Zuko wasn’t sure that he had a word for it.

But he wanted to hear her voice again, wanted to watch her lips move to form the syllables as her voice painted the night with the sounds. Her eyes were mesmerizing; stormy seas tossed in a tempest. He wanted to drown in the storm in her eyes. He wanted to trace the marks on her skin, wanted to know if they were paint or tattoos, wanted to know how far down they painted her tea-colored skin. He wanted to know if she was all steel and hard edges, like a knife's blade, or if she was soft, too, like silk.

Zuko knew the dangers of beautiful witches. They were perhaps even more deadly than the old hags, for these beautiful ones were said to weave spells around helpless men with their appearance alone. But Zuko didn’t care. He only wanted to hear her voice again.

The witch—this legendary Painted Lady—raised her blade to plunge it into his heart. He could accept his death from this beautiful creature, but first, he had to tell her:

“You’re beautiful,” he said.

The witch faltered, her blade still hovering over him. He had never seen something or someone so magnificent.

“What?” she said, and that one word pulled him under her spell for good.

while my waves enclose you until you’re warm

The storm was violent, with ugly purple clouds that rained down with the fury of spirits and sent the sea roiling with a ferocity that made it seem almost alive.

Katara watched the tempest from below, deep in the dark sea. With each crack of lightning, the water lit up, and she watched the small ship being tossed mercilessly by the waves. She had watched countless men meet their fates by the power of the sea, had seen ships sink and come to rest on the silty seabed. Men were such fools, thinking they were worthy to combat the elements.

Lightning flashed across the sky, and the ship above was struck with an awful crack that she could hear even down in the sea. She watched as something—no, someone—plunged into the icy waters. Before she could think about it, Katara swam upwards, her strong flippers propelling her towards the quickly-sinking form.

She caught him under his arms and drew him to her chest. His eyes were closed, and bubbles of air escaped his mouth and nose. Men were such fragile creatures. He would die down here.

Katara turned and swam back down, her heart racing. She didn’t want this man to die. She shouldn’t have cared about him—men had hunted her kind almost to extinction—but she had never been able to turn her back on people who needed her. She wouldn’t start now.

She swam to a system of underwater caves down below and pulled him along inside. Deep in the cave system, there was a pocket of air. That would keep this man alive.

Katara pulled him onto a narrow shelf of rock. The bioluminescent creatures of the cave cast them in an eerie green-blue glow. His skin was pale, his dark hair plastered against his forehead. He was handsome, for a man, she supposed, although an angry scar marred the left hand side, across his eye to his ear.

She rested her head on his chest, hoping to hear his heart. It was beating weakly, but he was alive. Katara quickly pulled back and drew the water from his lungs.

The man coughed and sputtered, his eyes fluttering behind his closed eyelids. He pushed himself up onto his elbow and finally opened his eyes. He looked up and saw her there, and she saw that his eyes were gold, like the sun when it set.

“Don’t be afraid,” Katara told him gently. “You’re safe.”

His eyes cut around the dim cave before landing on her again. His cheeks darkened with a blush, and he looked away from her, focusing on something past her head. Katara glanced down and realized that her bare breasts were exposed above the water. She had heard that men were such prudish things, although merfolk did not have those same views. But she lowered herself beneath the water until she was covered.

“Who are you?” he demanded to know.

“A friend,” Katara answered. “I saved you from the storm. You fell into the sea.”

His eyes landed on her again, sharp, inquisitive. Beautiful. Katara swallowed. She had never seen a man as beautiful as this one, even with his scar.

“You’re a mermaid,” he hissed, suddenly sliding across his ledge to put more distance between them.

“I won’t harm you,” Katara said placatingly as she held up her hands.

“Mermaids drown sailors at sea,” he snapped.

Katara shook her head. “No, we don’t. It’s a lie men made to justify hunting us for our tails.”

She emphasized this by leaning her arms on the rock he was sitting on and lifting her tail from the water. It was a beautiful cerulean blue, and she watched as his eyes widened in fascination before she dipped her tail back below the water.

“I need to get back to my ship,” he said harshly.

Katara shook her head again. “It’s too dangerous. You’ll never make it aboard with the storm.”

“I can't stay here with you!” he spat.

Katara arched her brow. “Why, because I’m a mermaid? Or because I’m half-naked and you must protect your virtue?”

“I’ve seen naked women before,” he snapped.

“Oh, have you?” She pushed her chest above the water. “In paintings, perhaps?”

He averted his gaze and scowled. Katara chuckled to herself. Human men were so silly.

“I need to get back to my ship,” he said again.

“And as I said, we’ll have to wait for the storm to break. Then I’ll take you back,” she told him. “So get comfortable. The storm could go on for a while.”

He continued to sulk like an insolent teenage boy. Katara found it both annoying and endearing. With a smirk, she flicked seawater at him.

“What was that for?” he demanded to know.

“Quit pouting,” she said. “Things could be worse, you know. I could have let you drown.”

“Hmph.”

Katara watched him for a minute. She would never understand men. Where was his gratitude for saving his life? But it didn’t matter. She would befriend this man before the night was over. And, she supposed, that started by learning his name.

“I’m Katara, by the way,” she said.

His eyes flickered to her, his brow still furrowed. She thought he wasn’t going to answer.

But then, he quietly said, “Zuko.”

She smiled at him. “It’s nice to meet you, Zuko. We’ll ride out the storm together.”

#Zutara #zutara ficlet #ZK mythical creatures #ZK mythical creatures Renaissance #thesavagedaughter0627

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