Blood. Sweat. Fire. That was all her world was reduced to.
She heard the continuation of the fight that had become more and more onesided as time wore on. She stood sentinel over the one factor that could turn this calamity around.
The Avatar. Aang.
He lay unconscious at her feet. He had been hit full on by Ozai. The remnants of his shirt, which barely hung to his slender form, started to absorb the blood of the wound along its ragged edge. His chest rose and fell evenly. Steadily. A small cut on his cheek sluggishly seeped blood.
She spared a glance at the fight. Zuko was good. Ozai was better. It was only a matter of time now. She pulled what was left of the water out of her canteen and prepared to heal Aang.
She impatiently wiped away a bead of sweat that was rolling down her brow and with the assurance of one who had done this a million times before, urged the water to Aang's skin.
Morbidly she watched with fascination as the water began to take on a reddish hue. The water as it was pushed and pulled, swirled and almost seemed to dance with the blood. This time she missed the bead of sweat that formed on her brow and almost smiled when it fell and joined the dance.
Blood. Sweat. Water.
All connected. All together. All the same.
A strange sort of calm fell over her. Strange because here she was, at the end of their long quest. At, seemingly, the end of the world and she had found the answer.
They couldn't beat Ozai. At least not at his own game. He had been bending fire since before they were born. His skill was unparalleled and his technique was flawless.
No. Fire wasn't the answer.
Blood. Sweat. Water. These were the key. The answer.
Slowly, Katara rose from her place next to Aang. She had healed him as much as she could. The rest was up to him. With measured steps she walked toward the fight.
Both Ozai and Zuko noted her approach. Ozai broke off his attack to place distance between himself and this newest addition to the fray. Zuko turned angrily to Katara. His words stopped short when he saw the look on her face.
It was serene. Almost happy.
His anger turned to worry. Had the Avatar died? Had this caused her to lose her mind?
Seemingly unaware of either of them, Katara began to go through the steps needed to bend water. It was a dance she was familiar with and one she was happy to get lost in. Even the arrogant words of Ozai couldn't break her concentration.
Blood. Sweat. Water. There was plenty in this room and as her dance continued her awareness of them heightened.
The two Fire Nation nobles watched curiously.
Her movements grew more intense. Slowly the moisture in the room responded to her will, coalescing into a small squall around Katara.
Ozai's eyes narrowed as he now perceived the potential for danger in her actions. Zuko's eyes widened as he realized that Katara was not totally helpless in his father's throne room.
Ozai attacked Katara. Zuko deflected the attack.
Again and again he protected Katara from the furious attacks of his father. They could both feel something building but neither knew what.
Suddenly Katara stopped. Her eyes were closed and her head lowered. The air was pregnant with moisture and anticipation.
With an upward snap of her head, Katara speared Ozai with her crystal blue gaze.
"Bleed." She said simply.
Ozai looked at the girl, horrified. The stillness of the room evaporated as his blood began to pour forth.
Eyes. Nose. Mouth. Skin. They all betrayed Ozai and bent to the girl's will.
After what seemed an eternity, the desiccated husk of a man who was once great and powerful fell to the ground.
Katara stared at the corpse. She stared at what she had done. She had only wanted to protect everyone. She felt tears begin to well in her eyes. A startled whimper escaped her lips as she felt a hand settle on her shoulder. She whirled to find Zuko looking at her. In his eyes she saw pride and compassion. He gave her a sympathetic nod and then looked toward the Avatar.
Katara also looked at Aang and with an exhausted sigh returned to his side.
She cradled his head in her lap and waited while the hope of the world slept blissfully unaware.