Disclaimer:I asked the owners very politely and even offered them irresistible chocolate pudding in return for Avatar. They ate the pudding and offered me an autographed cabbage in return. Success! Or not.
Summary: I'm sure every Avatard has noticed the unmistakable likeness Katara has of Ursa. Well, we're not the only ones that have noticed it…hi. Zuko here.
Prince Zuko of the fire nation connects the name Ursa with a completely different description. And thanks to Katara he is given a clear cut journey which he follows dutifully, gaining hope that soon, some day soon, he will see his mother again...
Searching For Ursa
Katara is shopping, strolling the streets of an unimportant fire nation town. She comes across an old woman in an outside stall, with big hoped earrings, and colourful shades of red clothing. Katara buys some groceries for dinner and is surprised when the woman stops her.
She says in a gravely old women's voice, holding her slim wrists and Katara's attention in her eyes.
"You, seem familiar. Do I know you?" Katara, afraid of discovery begins building her disguise.
"No, no you don't." reassuring herself as much as the wrinkled old women, but she continues as if she hasn't heard.
"Oh! Ursa dear? Is that you?" the name catches Katara of guard.
"Who? Ursa? I'm sorry, I think you've mistaken…" she assures, shaking her dark hands in front of her and her head at the same time. It is then that that it occurs to the water bending girl that the fire nation woman is much older than she originally thought.
"Have you been on holiday? You've gotten quiet a lovely tan! And look at you! Its like you've lost ten years!" Katara again backs away shaking her head.
"Holiday? I'm afraid you've mistaken me for someone else. My name's not Ursa. I'm from the fire nation colonies…in the earth kingdom." She adds hesitantly. But the woman is getting persistent and has an odd far away twitch in her bronze eyes.
"Really, Colonies eh? I guess I'll book my next holiday there, I think I'll suit a tan. What do you think Ursa dear?"
"I…no, I meant I'm from the colonies. My name's Katara, not Ursa." Katara finally confirms. The woman stops dead in her tracks, with a suspicious glint in her old eyes.
"Katara from the Colonies?" the fire nation woman says, resting her elderly hands on her hips. Katara nods her head hesitantly. "Katara doesn't sound very much a fire nation name. Do all the Colony people have names like that?"
"Er…I guess. Um it was nice talking to you but I better get going my brother will be waiting for me!" she walks away as unhurriedly as she can, clutching her bundle of purchases in one hand and waving back with another. "Goodbye!" the old women watches her go, her gaze as precise as a hawk, but she shakes her head after moment or two almost forgetting the encounter and returning her attention to another customer.
--
Zuko sits outside by the old pond, as pristine as ever, his legs folded underneath him like a child feeding the turtle ducks. He is throwing the broken pieces of bread in a detached state of mind, watching them float before a turtle duck swims up and swallows it in a single gulp. He remembers the times when he didn't have to do it alone. When along with the sound of the nearly silent ripple of water and the squawking of the turtle ducks and the caress of the breeze there was the irreplaceable sound of a woman, humming the tune of a long lost lullaby.
His continued depression leads him to his mother's old room. The room is bare of possessions, except the growing dust and musty light squeezing through the closed deep red curtains. Among the cobwebs he manages to uncover one remaining item. He discovers a robe belonging to his mother. Zuko knows it must have belonged to her because there is a definite heart-wrenching familiarity about it that he can't place. It still has his mother's faint fragrance in it yet he is very well aware that it hasn't been worn since the women left so many years ago.
To the reinstated Prince of the fire nation, the days in the ridiculously massive palace with its hundreds of rooms, countless servants with their plates of silver and gold, seem to drag on and on.
To him the palace is empty, plain and painfully boring.
That night he wakes from a dream he hasn't had since before he was banished. But he knows it is a memory, not a dream; his mother kissing him and whispering ancient promises into his young then unscarred ear and disappearing under the shadows of the corridor as she leaves him behind.
After all these years of longing, this distant dream to be home, he realises that what he wanted was never to be back in the fire nation, but in his mothers arms.
So the last thing the old and magnificent palace sees of Prince Zuko is his shrinking figure in the open doorway of his room as it disappears beneath the descending darkness of the palace corridors.
--
Unbeknownst to the water bender, the new fake name she gives to all that are suspicious of her, form a trail, which one lost son is desperately following. All Katara knows of the name is that it is fire nation and a perfect identity, preventing anyone from becoming suspicious of her uncommon water tribe name.
The group of ragtag children journey throughout the fire nation, and they learn many things of the so called enemy country. But the people remain blissfully ignorant of their cause and who they really are.
According to all those that the group come to meet, they are a group of friends visiting from the earth kingdom colonies.
According to them,
Aang is Kuzon; not the last air bender, or avatar.
Toph is a not the daughter of the richest family in the earth kingdom or a master earth bender; her name is Kenji.
Sokka is not a water tribe, boomerang-throwing, warrior; Sokka is Lee, a skilled fire nation swords man.
And Katara is not a water-bending master; she is Lee's younger, caring though not very skilled sister. Whose name is Ursa.
Yet, crown Prince Zuko of the fire nation connects the name Ursa with a completely different description. And thanks to Katara he is given a clear cut journey which he follows dutifully, gaining hope that soon, some day soon, he will see his mother again.
…
"Mum?"
Katara, or Ursa turns around to face someone she least expects to see.
"Zuko!"
At this Zuko's face transforms from a number of emotions. From joy, to disappointment, to recognition, to anger and then to surprise... She looks so much like her…
"Hang on…did you just call me mum?"says Katara unbelievingly, already in her fighting stance but with amazement etched across her features.
He takes up his own realising that she is also the avatar's companion, and if he survived the lightening strike then he should not be far.
"The avatar." He says automatically.
But Katara, being Sokka's sister also shares some of his quick wittedness.
"He's dead. You killed him remember?"
"It wasn't me. It was Azula." He corrects her.
"Your right. She killed the avatar, but you Zuko, killed everything else; my trust, my belief. You're chance at any forgiveness."
His eyes soften unknowingly. Her glare sharpens in remembrance of the caves of Ba Sing Se. He remembers it too.
And he says accusingly "I never asked for forgiveness."
She doesn't falter from her fighting stance.
"Good. Because you sure as hell don't deserve it."
"I don't need or want It." at this he shifts his stance in to a firmer more intimidating position, as if ready to strike.
"What do you want Zuko? Your Mummy?" she says the last part without humour but he feels the mocking tone behind it anyway.
"Shut up." Zuko hisses in warning.
"Or what? Do you want to kill me as well?"
He doesn't move.
He is aware that he has never killed anyone in his whole seventeen years of life. He is aware that he isn't capable of murder. But of course, she must think otherwise.
So he strikes. She blocks the attack and sends it back. And the dance of death begins. Like two koi fish they pivot in a continuous circle, attacking and defending, but never touching.
Author's Note: This little piece is pretty old. Anything I write these days has the potential to kill an innocent unknowing puppy. It's so sad. I've lost the ability to write anything cheery or funny. Let's hope it's not permanent.
Oh well, review.