#i havent even drawn a picture for myself until just a few days ago to cope with everything

[blonde-fraumell]

Hi, howdy. Just popping on to say hi and that I'm still around. I haven't touched Tumblr or AO3 since I vanished, but I do plan on continuing my stories and art. Things have been... hectic, to say the least. New job, family emergencies, among more.

[firelxdykatara]

Day 2: Hidden Identities

So this is a day late, but hopefully not a dollar short! (lol kill me my jokes suck) ANYWAY, this is for Day 2 of @thirtydaysofzutara and was heavily inspired by @artcraawl‘s amazing Zutara Mulan AU pictures. Some of it is directly from the movie, some is embellished, anyway I hope it’s a fun read, as I certainly had fun writing it!

---

“I don’t know if I can do this, Tui.”

Katara gave one more half-hearted tug, but her father’s sword remained stubbornly embedded in the tree’s trunk. With a sigh, she flopped to the ground, thumping her fists against the hard-packed soil in frustration. Her companion, a silver dragon-lizard with impossibly black eyes, scurried up the tree and perched on the flat of the blade, tugging gently, but to no avail. “It’ll come out! You just have- to be- persistent!”

With a final tug, the lizard slipped from the blade and fell to the ground. Katara pushed herself up on her elbows with a groan. “I’ve been persistent! It’s not working! I haven’t even been able to get that stupid arrow out of the pole.”

“No one else has, either,” Tui pointed out, curling her tail over her shoulder and rubbing a spot of dirt from her scales.

“That’s not the point.” Katara sat up and pushed herself to her feet.  “They belong here. They don’t have to prove anything.”

“Neither do you, as far as they know.”

“Sure, and what happens when they find-”

“Who are you talking to, Tak?”

Katara froze. Tui scampered into the bushes with an alarmed squeak, and the moment stretched uncomfortably, as the woman tried desperately to convince herself that voice belonged to someone—anyone­—else. It didn’t work; she was pretty sure she could feel his amber gaze burning holes into her back.

He had the disconcerting ability to make her feel like he could see right through her façade—through the warrior she was trying to be, to the scared, homesick girl beneath.

Time sped up again, and Katara turned to look at Zuko, who was standing behind her with his arms crossed and one eyebrow raised.

“Uh…” she began, before realizing her voice was pitched too high, coughing to cover it up. “No one! I’m just, talking to… myself…” She trailed off, rubbing the back of her neck with one hand (mostly to hide the fact that she kept reaching for a lock of hair that just wasn’t there anymore). Her eyes slid to her sword, still sunk into the tree trunk, about the same time Zuko’s did. Disapproval radiated from his lithe form in waves, and Katara had to fight back the nervous laughter that kept threatening to bubble up.

“Oh, this is… I was just training…” she said, grabbing the hilt tightly in both hands. It still refused to move, and she braced herself with one foot on the trunk. Finally, with an almighty yank, the sword came free, and the momentum sent her careening off-balance.

Zuko ducked just in time—the blade passed a hair’s breadth over his head.

“Oops,” Katara muttered, giving a weak chuckle as she clumsily shoved her sword back into its sheath. “Cut it a little close there-” Spirits, Katara, stop talking.

The captain looked less than impressed as he straightened back up, looking at her with some emotion in his eyes that she couldn’t quite describe. Then he sighed, shaking his head. “Pack up.”

Something churned unpleasantly in the pit of her stomach. “What?”

“Go home. You’re through here, Tak. I’ve tried my best, but you just aren’t suited for war—not in my company. And if you’re the best that Chief Hakoda could send in his own stead-” He broke off, squaring his shoulders. “You’d be more of a danger to your own comrades than the Fire Nation soldiers. And I won’t have good men, even you, needlessly killed because they weren’t ready.”

Katara watched as he walked away, trying very hard to keep from noticing the way his muscles had tensed (probably from anger) beneath the thin padding of his training vest. “He’s right. I know he is. But…”

Tui poked her head out of the bushes. “But you want to prove him wrong.”

A wry grimace twisted at her mouth. “I was too willful and stubborn to make a good wife, remember? It must be good for something.”

“So what are you going to do?”

The sun had set, the last of its amber glow receding from the skyline just as the full moon began to peek through the clouds. “I don’t know…” Katara murmured, gazing up at the sky—she traced the moonbeams with her eyes, until she caught one that illuminated the arrow still stuck at the top of that tall, wooden beam.

She could have had it down weeks ago, if she’d wanted to risk waterbending—but it was supposed to be a physical exercise. For all that she was at a disadvantage compared to the rest of the company (not that anyone but Sokka realized it), the last thing she wanted to do was prove herself by cheating. But there had to be some way to get to that arrow. And maybe, if she got it down herself…

 Hours later, the only thing preventing her from screaming in frustration was the fact that Zuko’s tent was only ten feet away. “Come on,” she grunted, taking another running jump at the pole—and, as before, she made it a few feet before falling to the ground in an ungainly heap.

She might have had a better chance at getting higher, if not to the top, if it weren’t for the weights at her wrists. Katara picked herself up for the thousandth time, dropping the weights and dusting herself off. (It was a good thing her family didn’t seem to have the ‘quitter’ gene, or she might have contemplated just leaving, like she’d been told.) She couldn’t help the nagging feeling that there was something about this exercise that was missing, that she just didn’t understand. She picked up the weights again, holding them in front of her, inspecting the etchings in the gold. It was an ancient form of Earth Kingdom script, and she could only make out a few letters.

Somehow, she doubted anyone had carved a cheat sheet onto these things a thousand years ago, anyway.

But as the weights swayed gently on their leather ties, something occurred to her—it was so simple she could almost kick herself for not thinking of it sooner. It was so obvious. It wasn’t just about having to struggle against the weight. It was about discipline and strength—using them to her advantage.

Squaring her shoulders, Katara faced the pole again—this time, when she jumped, she swung the weights, tangling the leather ties together, and she began to climb.

Halfway up, she almost wanted to let go, forget the whole thing. Her arms were screaming in protest, and she kept slipping even as she gained inches in height—sweat was streaming down her face in small rivers, and she could feel her tunic sticking to her back. The cotton binding around her breasts was beginning to itch something fierce. But she had already gotten too far to quit, and so she kept going—gaining inches and losing centimeters, until she could see the top of the pole. She could almost reach out and grab that arrow.

The sun began to peek over the horizon once more, and Katara gasped for breath, her muscles screaming in agony as she grabbed the top of the pole and finally pulled herself up. It was a deceptively wide beam of wood, in fact, and easy enough to perch on was she grabbed the arrow in one tender hand and pulled it free.

It was only when the cheering began that she realized she’d drawn a crowd.

A tired grin crossed her face, and she subtley bent some of her sweat, coating the arrow-head with a thin layer of ice. Just as Zuko’s tent flap opened, she threw the arrow down—it landed with impressive accuracy, thudding into the ground at his feet as he stepped out. He looked up at her, and while it was difficult to tell from how far away she was, Katara almost thought he looked proud.

 ---

 “I’m sorry. About your uncle.” Katara winced inwardly—she kept forgetting to pitch her voice low enough, but Zuko didn’t seem to notice. He was staring at the fire; if he’d heard a word she said, he didn’t indicate it. Which was almost a relief—she wasn’t sure she’d be able to get into a conversation about lost loved ones and not accidentally blow her own cover.

Sokka had been helping as much as he dared, once he’d realized her plan, but there was only so much he could do to keep her from ruining everything with her ‘stupid girly habits’.

Apparently, talking about feelings qualified.

Either way, Zuko clearly wasn’t in the mood for company. Katara turned to go—if she hadn’t already become so tuned to the tenor of his voice, for reasons she couldn’t even begin to explain, she might have missed it entirely when he said, “Thank you, Tak.”

She stopped, glancing back at him—he was giving her at least an attempt at a smile, and it suddenly struck her how very young he looked. Especially for a captain.

He really couldn’t have been more than a couple years older than she was, and it was hard enough for her to manage to keep her own life straight—she couldn’t imagine what it was like trying to lead an entire company.

She opened her mouth to say something else—she wasn’t quite sure what, but since when had thinking ever stopped her from blurting out what was on her mind?—when she heard the screech of a bird of prey high in the sky above them. It sounded familiar, almost… almost like…

She was six years old, and the snow had turned grey from falling ash. Buildings burned, people were screaming and running away, bursts of fire from soldiers in the streets kept illuminating the overcast sky, and Katara couldn’t find her parents.

“Mama!” she shouted, tears streaking through the soot stains on her face, running towards her house. Everything was chaos, but she still knew home. Somewhere, high in the sky, a fire hawk screamed—the little girl could see it circling over her family’s hut, an omen she couldn’t quite comprehend.

When she opened the door, the smell of charred flesh nearly knocked her off her feet. It was-

“The Fire Nation!” Katara heard herself shouting, those last images from her memory still superimposed over her vision, the smell sticking to her all these years later. She wanted to gag, but there was no time. “They’re here! They-“

An arrow whistled through the air and into Zuko’s shoulder as he stood, knocking him flat.

“Zuko!” Katara rushed to his side as more arrows floated into view just over the snowy hilltop—he waved her off, pulling the arrow free with a grunt and clambering to his feet.

“Everyone, get out of their range! Grab the cannons!”

It was pure chaos, after that. Zuko’s company scattered—they grabbed armloads of cannons and their weapons and ran, forcing the Fire Nation soldiers to abandon their high ground advantage if they wanted to do any real damage. Out of range of the arrows was also out of range of their firebenders, and it took everything Katara had not to panic and freeze.

“Sokka!” The relief nearly knocked her over, but she held her ground, grabbing for her brother’s hand and yanking him out of the way of another arrow barrage. “Where’s Zuko? Is he-”

“He’s fine! We need to set up these canons, Tak. Now!”

Their answering barrage sent shockwaves rippling through the ground—when they were down to the last cannon, Zuko appeared behind them. “Hold- we don’t know who’s left. If…”

He trailed off. The smoke cleared, and revealed the bulk of the Fire Nation army still intact on the hillside.

Ozai was at the army’s head. Katara could feel his smug smirk from here.

“Sokka, take that last canon. Hit Ozai, if it’s the last thing you do!” Zuko commanded. “Men- prepare for a fight!”

Katara’s hand went to her sword hilt, but something was still bothering her. Taking out Ozai wouldn’t decimate the Fire Nations forces—they’d keep coming, they’d kill everyone. How many more villages would suffer the way Omashu had? The way her tribe had? The way-

She caught sight of the snow-covered mountain just behind them. They weren’t going to have time to retreat back through the mountain passes to safety, but maybe, if she could only just… She reached, but nothing. Practicing her bending in secret had only gotten her so far, and that snow was too far off. But…

“Give me that!” She pushed Sokka aside and grabbed the cannon. It would work. It had to.

 ---

 Katara was beginning to lose feeling in her arms. She hadn’t realized Ozai’s blade had cut that deep, but now Koda’s saddle was soaked in her blood, and she had barely been able to muster the strength to grab Zuko and pull him to safety.

The avalanche had stilled, snow wiping the last traces of the Fire Nation army away, and Katara finally slid from her horse’s back, stumbling to her knees. Zuko had regained consciousness, and he rushed to her side. “Tak! Are you alright?”

She gripped his arm and pulled herself upright, nodding weakly. “I’m fine, is everyone else-”

“We made it, Tak,” Toph said, affectionately thumping her shoulder. “Thanks to you. That was brilliant.”

The others chimed in, and Katara smiled, for just a moment. And then she collapsed.

When she opened her eyes, she recognized the colors of the medical tent above her cot. For a moment, Katara was dazed, confused—how had she gotten here? Where were Zuko, Sokka and the others? How-

Her clothing had been removed. The breast binding wraps were visible, overlapping the bandages around her abdomen. The doctor was looking at her, perhaps to be sure she was truly awake, but when she opened her mouth to speak, he turned away and left the tent.

Katara sat up quickly, wincing at the tight feeling of the wound in her stomach, wanting to protest—but then Zuko stepped inside, and the words died in her throat.

It was then that she realized her hair was loose—the thick, dark brown waves that just brushed against her shoulders were much more visibly feminine now that she no longer wore them in her father’s hairstyle, and the breast wraps had only been effective at hiding her figure when covered by padding and armour. Now, she felt her cheeks burn as Zuko’s eyes followed her figure, and realized the truth of what the doctor had obviously told him.

“So it’s true,” came Long Feng’s voice as he entered the tent behind Zuko. Where the latter’s gaze was completely unreadable, Long Feng didn’t bother to disguise his disgust. He surged forward, grabbing Katara by the arm and dragging her out of the tent, throwing her into the snow with just her blanket for cover. She fell to her knees before the rest of the company, tears of humiliation freezing to her lashes before they even had a chance to fall.

“A woman,” Long Feng hissed. “A despicable traitor to our great kingdom!”

Toph and Aang stared in shock. Sokka started forward, but Katara shook her head. It was too late for her, but she would not let her brother take the fall, too. “My name is Katara. I only came here to save my father-”

“More lies!” Long Feng insisted, turning to glare at her as Zuko approached. “Devious snake!”

“I never meant for it to go this far!” Her eyes met Zuko’s, and she pleaded with him silently. Please understand. “You have to believe me! I only wanted-”

“Silence!” Long Feng shouted.

Sokka ran forward. “Wait! You can’t do this—she’s my sister!”

“Sokka, no!”

But the damage was done. “You knew about her deception?” Long Feng was practically quivering with rage. “Stand aside, boy, or you will share in this traitor’s fate!”

“Sokka, please-”

He refused to budge. Katara could still see Zuko, staring at the both of them now, sword in hand. He took a step forward, and several gasps ran through the company—Toph and Aang looked ready to rush to their defense, but Long Feng threw his arm out and stopped them. “You know the law!”

For just a moment, Katara met Zuko’s eyes, and thought she saw something flickering in their depths. Something other than anger or disgust. Something warm.

Then it was gone, and Zuko threw his sword to the ground. “A life for a life,” he said, staring down at her. “My debt to you is ended.” Finally, as if only now realizing he was there, Zuko looked at Sokka. “Take her home. Don’t bother coming back.”

He turned on his heel—Long Feng made a noise, as if he were about to protest, but Zuko turned on him with a glower that could’ve melted steel. The advisor finally cowed into silence, he turned to the rest of his men and motioned for them to move out.

 ---

 “You trusted Tak. Why is Katara any different?”

“You stole my victory.” “No! I did!” “… The soldier from the mountain!”

“She’s a woman, and from the water tribes! She’s not worth protecting!”

“I have heard all about you, Katara of the Water Tribes. You followed your brother off to war—stole your father’s armour and ran away from home. You impersonated a soldier, deceived your commanding officer, dishonored the Earth Kingdom, and… you have saved us all.”

 It was… surreal. That was the only way Katara could describe the feeling that overtook her, when she realized that not only was the Earth King bowing, but so was the entirety of Ba Sing Se. As far as the eye could see, citizens were stooping low, and it was all but impossible to believe they were honoring her.

Even Zuko was bowing—even her brother. She wanted to tell them all to stand up, that she really hadn’t done anything that extraordinary, but she didn’t want to risk losing the King’s good faith. The moment eventually passed, anyway, and Katara turned to find the Earth King smiling warmly at her.

“I would be honored if you would accept a seat on my council, Katara,” he said—Long Feng looked like he was about to faint.

“B- but sir, you can’t just- there are no positions open!”

“Alright. You can have his job.”

This time, he did faint. Katara had to smother a chuckle before taking a deep breath and shaking her head. “You honor me, your majesty, but… I think it’s time for me to go home.”

He nodded, as if he’d expected nothing less of her.

The Earth King gave her his medallion and Ozai’s sword, and when Katara finally turned to go, she very nearly ran right into Zuko. “Oh! Zuko, I-”

“Katara-” he began, at the same time. They both broke off; Katara bit her lip, waiting for him to continue. He cleared his throat. “I, uh- you fight good. Well! Proficiently, you- you’re an excellent soldier.”

Their eyes met, but Katara was the first to look away, this time. “Oh. Thank you, Zuko. For everything.” And then she left, finding Koda and pulling herself into his saddle to begin the long journey home.

“You don’t meet a girl like that every dynasty,” the Earth King declared—sounding very much like he was calling Zuko an idiot.

 “Would you like to stay for dinner?” From a distance, Katara could hear Grandma Kanna’s voice, “Would you like to stay forever?!” Zuko laughed. “Dinner would be great.”