Disclaimer: I do not own A:tLA.
It took a few seconds, waking up, first to place the sense of profound dread, and then to realize that there was no longer any necessity for it.
At least, that was what the rational part of Iroh's mind told him. That didn't change the fact that the first thing he did when he woke was throw himself from his room wearing little more than a robe and all but dash to the door that was one down from his—only to be startled at the sight of a girl in thick makeup and green dress already standing outside.
"Good morning," Suki greeted as Iroh blinked at her. She smiled. "I thought I'd do what I could, since the last set of guards didn't seem up to the task."
"Every effort you make, no matter how small, is much appreciated." Iroh gave her a deep bow before she stood aside so that he could open the door.
At the sight of the room's occupants, he could not help but smile. Four teenagers were sprawled all over the floor: Aang and Katara, hands entwined, slumped up together against the side of the bed; Sokka, meanwhile, lay with roughly half of his body sprawled over the scattered remains of what had once been someone's bedding, snoring loudly, while Toph had chosen the Water Tribesman's arm as her pillow. A spot of her drool was slowly accumulating on his sleeve. Picking his way over and through the unconscious bodies, Iroh made his way back to the chair he'd vacated the night before.
His nephew was sleeping fitfully, but he was at least sleeping. Zuko's eyes were sunken, his skin carrying an unhealthy grayish cast, but he was alive and he was breathing thanks to Katara and Aang, and Iroh was profoundly grateful for what they did have. True, there would be lingering problems, but that Zuko was even around to have problems was nothing short of a miracle. Reaching out, he brushed some of Zuko's shaggy hair out of his face before taking his second son's hand into his own.
Zuko's pulse fluttered weakly under his fingers, testimony to the strain his heart had endured two nights before, both when the poison had stopped its beat and when Katara had forced it back to life. He did not stir when Iroh took his hand, and Iroh let him sleep. Right now, they all needed it.
Even after Katara had pulled his nephew from the jaws of death, things had been touch and go. That first night, she'd been healing until moonset, and they'd all stayed awake (with the notable exception of Aang, who'd collapsed on the floor as soon as it had become apparent that Zuko's life was no longer in imminent danger—the little airbender had earned it, having already stayed awake a day and a night to help Zuko breathe). Even after Katara had stopped for a rest, however, every several hours Zuko would jolt awake in a panic, gasping desperately to take in even a lungful of air, and Iroh would prop him upright to ease his breathing, rubbing his nephew's back as he waited for Zuko to begin taking the air normally again and his own heart to stop hammering in his chest.
The first few times, he had woken Katara, who'd frowned as she ran her water over Zuko's chest and back, but eventually said that there wasn't much to be done except wait for it to pass. If it didn't, they would need to enlist Aang's help again.
Of course, Zuko's health was far from the only thing on Iroh's mind.
Now that they were no longer frantically scrambling to keep his nephew from dying, it was time to think about what came next. It was clear that Zuko would need time and care to recover, and plenty of both, but Iroh was confident in Katara's ability to provide him with the treatment he needed. It was also ill-advised for Zuko to over-stress himself with his responsibilities while his body was still healing, but if left without the authority of its Fire Lord during a period of such political instability, the nation risked falling into chaos and anarchy. As such, Iroh's duty was also clear.
Contemplating how they had gotten into this situation in the first place was far more troubling. They might have caught the would-be assassin along with one of her contemporaries, but she had not been acting alone. Someone had recruited her from the Earth Kingdom colonies, channeling what might have once been a negotiable situation into murderous intent. Someone had provided her with the poisoned blade along with information on the guard shifts and the layout of the palace. Most disturbingly of all, someone—from what Mai had told him, far too many someones—was still overwhelmingly loyal to his brother.
If they didn't get to the bottom of this conspiracy, and soon, then someone was going to try again.
This ordeal was far from over.
"Okay. Here's the plan." Sokka slammed a piece of paper down on the table, upsetting their breakfasts (it was actually a lot closer to lunchtime, but on a day like today nobody was counting) and eliciting a startled protest from Toph. "We don't know who or where the Ozai loyalists are, but we do know that someone was in a position to give the assassin some critical information, and nobody's safe until we find out who. I've drawn up a list of everyone who works in the palace, starting with those who are closest to Zuko." He pushed the piece of paper across the table. "Toph, I need you to question everybody on that list, from the top down—"
"Um, Snoozles—"
"I know, I know." Sokka spread his hands outward in a defensive gesture. "I was just getting to that part. That's why you're going to be working with Zuko's gloomy girlfriend." He turned toward Mai. "Um, no offense or anything."
"Ex-girlfriend," was the only comment Mai offered, though without much emotional investment in the statement one way or the other. The food on her plate was barely touched, the noodles pushed to the side in favor of playing with two of her knives, the blades scraping against each other in a constant low-key grating of metal that was just loud enough to be a constant irritation, but not quite loud enough that anyone felt justified in asking her to stop.
"Um, right." Next, he turned to Aang. "I talked with Iroh earlier and he said he'd be taking on a lot of Zuko's duties within the Fire Nation for the time being, but from what I understand, the colonies are a complete mess. I think you should head over to the Earth Kingdom to calm down the colonists and meet with King Kuei, and make sure we don't end up with a full-scale revolt on our hands."
"Right." Aang nodded. "I'll talk to him, and see if I can convince him to put a hold on decolonization until we can get this sorted out."
"And what are you going to be doing?" Toph questioned as they pushed out from the table.
"Me?" His fingers reached out to brush the hilt of the blade he now wore. It was no Space Sword, but he'd needed a weapon more short-ranged than a boomerang, and the specimens he'd found in Zuko's personal collection were about as well-made as they were going to come—had better be, since most of them were Master Piandao's own work. "I'm going to trade off on guard duty with Suki until the rest of the Kyoshi Warriors get here." Even as he spoke, his eyes drifted back in the direction from which they had come. Katara had not joined them for the meal, nor was it really necessary for her to be a part of this meeting. She had her own duties to attend to.
"Take a deep breath."
The skin of Zuko's back expanded beneath her ear as he followed her instructions, and Katara frowned. There it was again. While the fact that Zuko was breathing at all was certainly an improvement over the way things had been two days ago, she did not like the sound of that wheezing rattle one bit.
"Now let it out—as slowly as you can."
When he did so, her frown deepened. The wheezing had not gone away.
"Are you still having trouble breathing?" she asked, concerned. Even as she pulled away she was streaming over the water from the bowl on the bedside table, bringing her liquid-coated hands to rest gently against his back.
"Only when I'm lying down for too long," he confessed as the room was filled with a blue glow. In Zuko-speak, that meant that things had barely improved at all—she knew full well, because Iroh had told her, exactly how many times Zuko had woken in the middle of the night in his struggles to draw a breath.
When she had healed all that she could, Katara streamed her water back into the bowl once more in favor of resting her palms against his back, skin to skin. Though she could not actually bend any of it outside of a full moon, she had gotten much better at sensing body liquids, and the physical contact unfortunately confirmed what she had suspected all along: Zuko had fluid building up in his lungs.
"I'll see about getting you some more pillows. Propping yourself up a bit when you sleep ought to help." The last time she'd made the mistake of informing him of the details of what was causing his symptoms, Zuko had looked increasingly queasy before holding up a hand with a shake of his head, indicating that he didn't want to know any more. Now, Katara didn't tell him unless he asked—or if he was being particularly stubborn about taking his medicine.
As it was, she shifted the pillows that were already on the bed into an arrangement that would keep his torso slightly elevated before helping him back into a lying position. If nothing else, it would at least relieve some of the symptoms. Actually fixing the problem would necessitate finding its source, and she barely knew where to start—Katara was only one water healer, and a half-trained one at that (why hadn't she continued her lessons with Yugoda?), she didn't have any Spirit Water, she no longer had the full Moon, and there was just so much damage.
Focus on the most vital organs and the most life-threatening injury first. With a sigh, Katara leaned down to press an ear to his chest this time, listening to his heartbeat.
There was an irregularity.
Did I hurt him more when I re-started his heart? she wondered as she listened to the third sound, the one that should not have been there, after the two normal beats. Agonizing over the question, however, was pointless, and Katara knew it. If she hadn't done what she had, that heart wouldn't be beating at all, irregularly or otherwise.
The only thing to be done now was mitigate the damage—whether hers or the poison's, or possibly even a lingering aftereffect of Azula's lightning, it didn't matter. The water came again to her hands as she placed her palms flat against Zuko's chest.
When she made contact, he flinched slightly, skin rippling under her fingers as if she'd touched a timid ostrich-horse. "This won't hurt at all," she reassured—instinct and habit, really, since she was telling Zuko nothing that he shouldn't already know.
"I know." Nevertheless, the tension remained evident in his body, the muscles standing out taught in his arms and his heartbeat quickening under her fingers. This did nothing to help her healing—Zuko was hurt for Spirits' sake, would it kill him to relax once in a while?—but nevertheless Katara did her best, easing some inflammation and knitting torn tissues back together, encouraging the blood to flow the way it was supposed to.
"Katara?"
"Hm?" Though she did not stop what she was doing, she did allow her gaze to flick back to Zuko's face, to see that he was watching her through half-lidded eyes.
"Why are you doing this?"
"I'm a healer. Helping people who are hurt is my job." Idiot, she thought, but did not say out loud—even if she did mean it endearingly.
"No, I meant… why me? Why did you fight so hard to save me?" The confusion in his face was genuine, she noticed with mounting concern, and she realized that, before joining their group, he must not have known real friendship—at least, friendship that wasn't tainted by Azula's manipulation and abuse.
"You really have to ask?" Katara's voice came out in a choked whisper, and her hand drifted downward to brush over the knotted scar tissue of an old lightning burn.
You saved us too.
"So, Master Katara, I was hoping that you would be so kind as to inform me of your progress."
In response, Katara blew out a breath. Iroh had been perfectly polite, of course, inviting her out to the garden and asking if she would care for a cup of tea (a blend which, he assured her, was also a powerful restorative), but she had known all along what he really wanted to ask.
"Well, he's recovering." She took another sip of her tea—Iroh hadn't been lying about its special properties; already Katara felt as if she had twice the energy that she'd had that morning. "I'm doing all that I can, but… he's going to need a lot of care, and a lot of time."
Iroh nodded; she had told him nothing that he hadn't expected. Then, however, he leaned forward, fixing her with his searching yellow eyes. "And yet you are worried."
Katara had forgotten how perceptive he was. To cover her hesitation, she took another sip of her tea while she considered how she wanted to word her answer. In the end, however, there was no sugar-coating it: trying to soften the blow now would only make it harder in the long term.
"There's something wrong with his heart."
Iroh stilled as she said it, and Katara went on; unlike Zuko, she knew, he would want to hear every detail that she could give. "It's not immediately life-threatening," she continued, "and if something does happen, we should have at least a little advance warning, but… if nothing's done about it, it will cause him lifelong problems. There's a chance he'll die young." Katara bit her lip. "Zuko's had a weak heart ever since the battle with Azula, and the strain when I—"
"Katara." Iroh's warm hands coming to rest atop hers where she had been clenching them into fists against the table made her come to a halt; she realized that she had tears standing in her eyes. "Nothing that has happened to my nephew is any fault of yours." His eyes were locked with hers, and Katara was sure that he knew that not an hour had gone by in the past few days that she hadn't asked herself why she'd been standing so close to the arena that day rather than off to the side like Zuko had asked, why she'd frozen when Azula had shot comet-enhanced lightning her way, why she'd let the princess get the better of her while he'd been lying there for full minutes with the lightning still racking his body, why she'd cut off her healing lessons the minute Pakku agreed to take her as his student, why she hadn't caught the poison earlier, why, why, why…
"Nothing," he whispered again, giving her hands a brief squeeze before letting go.
Unable to do anything else, she nodded.
"Is there anything to be done?" Iroh asked a few minutes later, having tactfully given her a moment to collect herself under the guise of taking another cup of tea, which she threw back in a single swallow, grimacing as the searing liquid worked its way down her throat.
"I don't know," she admitted. "But I'm going to do everything I can."
A/N: Um... so, yeah. Remember that possible epilogue I was talking about? It... sort of ended up turning into a full-blown sequel. I just kept getting more and more ideas, and decided that there were some more things that needed to be done.
Very soon now I'll also be off fic sites entirely for a couple of months, so I decided to post this as something of a last hurrah before I leave.