A/N: In order to understand the setting, a bit of a scenario is needed. This story is severely AU; it takes out the hundred-year gap between Aang and the rest of the characters and works on several changes to the war's timeline. That having attacked the Air Nomads and believing the Avatar to have been killed in the first strike, Sozin turns his attention almost immediately on the Water Tribes. The Gaang are all about ten years older than in the canon. This story is not a supposition of what might have happened if Aang was never frozen, it only takes that initial idea.

Ages of other characters vary and some do not feature at all. Azulon, for instance, does not exist in this story, altering the structure of the Fire Nation Royal family. Characterization may vary as well, due to the altering of several of the main characters' pasts.

As to structure, initially, much of the story will be told alternating between past and present events, filling the gap between the ten years since the war started and the Gaang's lives in the present.

Warning: This fanfiction contains mild violence and language.

Happy reading!

~ATLA~

"The legends say the moon was the first Waterbender. Our ancestors saw how it pushed and pulled the tides and learned how to do it themselves. Our strength comes from the Spirit of the Moon. Our life comes from the Spirit of the Ocean. They work together to keep balance."

Yue, The Siege of the North

Prologue

Water…Earth…Fire…Air…

Not so long ago, the four nations lived together in harmony and there was balance in the world. Then that day came. A bright light filled the sky, painting it a blood red and fuelling the strength of the Fire Nation armies.

They attacked.

The Air Nomads were the first to suffer. They were almost wiped out in a single night, massacred only because they were the next nation in the cycle. Over twenty years ago, Avatar Roku perished and ten years ago, on that day, so did the new Avatar.

So did our hope.

The Fire Nation turned its attention on the Water Tribes, seeking to kill the next Avatar before he could even learn to walk. They only took three Waterbenders that first raid and more during the second. I was taken on the fifth.

They forced us into cages suspended above the ground. Hot, metal prisons with restricted access to water. Even the air was dry. They treated us like we were nothing, they robbed us of our dignity, and they wanted us to fade.

I thought I'd never see my family again.

Many people believe that the Avatar was never reborn into the Water Tribe. They believe that the Fire Nation had broken the cycle when they massacred the Air Nomads. I used to believe that the Avatar would return someday and free us from that place. I used to believe balance was possible again.

I was wrong.

The Avatar was never coming back.

~ATLA~

She coughed.

She tried to swallow, but her mouth and her throat were as dry as dust. Lips, chapped and painful worked as she tried to wet them. Her mouth felt sticky and dry. Her chest felt tight, constantly aching from the hot, dry air they pumped into the prison. She thought she'd be used to it by now, but sometimes her body couldn't deal with the constant dehydration it was subjected to. She trembled without being cold.

They gave them three cups of water a day, enough to keep them alive, if barely and chained them up before they could drink. She had already seen bodies being dragged out of their cells, motionless and pale. The woman who had shared the cell on her right had passed yesterday. She had been old, a healer from the tribe and had gone in her sleep.

She almost envied her.

She coughed again.

Clang!

"Shut up! Scum!"

She gave a start, looking round with bleary eyes at the Fire Nation soldier who had banged his sword against the bars of her cell. Amber eyes glared at her and it took everything she had not to cringe back in fear. Still trembling, she raised her head and just stared at him. She was too tired to do more than that, but she couldn't back down.

She wouldn't.

She could barely see his face, his helmet covered up most of his features, turning him into just another uniformed enemy. A Firebender. But his eyes, that golden, amber colour, like embers dancing off a flame, scared her. It was those eyes filled with cruelty and malice that she hated the most. It was those eyes and so many like them that haunted her dreams.

He sent a spark of flame at her and this time she reacted. She screamed, scrambling to the far side of her cell, desperate to get away. The fire was hot, searing the ends of her hair and adding a light burn to the back of her neck and cheek. No worse than bad sunburn, it wouldn't scar; they rarely did anything to her that scarred, but it hurt all the same.

Not like her hands. Not like the burn scars that wrapped around her hands from that first time. That first time she'd lifted them to defend her face. That first time she'd cried in pain for days, unable to use her fingers and unable to heal them without water. That first time when she'd thought they'd kill her. Sometimes she could still feel the blisters throbbing on her skin, still feel the fire, the burn…

The cage lurched violently when she moved, knocking against the one suspended next to it and almost causing her to fall flat on her face. Instead, she managed to cling to the bars on the far side, her fingers tightened desperately on the metal and she closed her eyes, cringing for all she was worth.

If she could have cried, she would have, but her body couldn't afford to lose the moisture. Breathing hard, she tried to regain control, her heart beating wildly and made herself look up.

Made herself meet his eyes.

He laughed.

"Stubborn bitch," he sneered smugly, moving on to the next cell.

She let herself slump against the bars. She looked down miserably at the blackened ends of her brown hair, loose and disheveled. The hot air was already making her cheek and neck sting painfully and her throat felt even raspier than before from screaming. The skin on her lower lip, so dry and fragile, had finally broken and she could taste the coppery stream of blood as she licked it, taking the taste into her dry, sticky mouth.

At least it was wet, she supposed.

Trying to get comfortable, she closed her eyes and tried to find sleep. Her lower limbs ached most of the time though, making the attempt challenging. But eventually, she found it. She needed escape and this was the only route she had. As she finally drifted off, she thought she heard someone laughing from far away.

She dreamed of snow. Cool, wet snow. It soaked her clothes and bathed her skin in it's chill. Her brother was firing snowballs at her, she was laughing. Gran Gran and Mom came out of the tent, holding bundles of skins to sell at the market. She could see Mom touching her necklace fondly before waving to someone far off.

Dad was approaching with a net full of fish, his blue eyes sparkling with mirth when he saw his children playing in the snow. She hit Sokka one last time before running towards Dad, practically leaping into his arms - she almost made him drop the fish! His arm was tight around her, pulling her securely into his embrace.

She felt safe.

There was a flash, everything turned red.

She shut her eyes, hugging close to her father's side. But suddenly he was gone. There was ash falling from the sky and she was no longer in the snow. There was fire all over the village, so much fire. She was frozen, her eyes wide in fear. Her wrists were shackled; she could feel the metal rubbing painfully against her skin. She was standing in the hull of a metal ship and the door was closing. Gran Gran was trying to shield a group of children, Sokka and Dad were fighting with the other men and Mom…

Lifeless eyes stared at her, taunted her, and accused her.

The door was closing, the air was hot and dry; everything was burning.

Darkness enclosed upon her, leaving nothing but amber eyes in the firelight.

And the scream remained trapped in her throat...

She woke up hours later, nightmares fading into each other until all that remained in her memory were the flames. The sky outside was dark and the prison silent except for the sounds of the air pumps working, the creaking of gears and the occasional cough of a prisoner. Her cheek ached dully and her lower lip had scabbed over. She sighed sadly when she saw the moon rising up through the bars of the small window high above her cell. The moonlight brushed her skin and she felt a surge of strength. It was like this every month, it was both sweet and torturous.

If she'd been near water she could have done something. She knew she could have. She could have overpowered them; all she needed was a cup full. That would be enough, more than enough.

But they never gave them water on full moon nights.

Enough to keep them alive, not enough to let them live…

Still, she felt a little better. Like something small had been replaced.

So lost in her thoughts, she barely heard it at first. There was a scuffle, a groan and then the tinkling of metal. Yelling.

Her head snapped up. She saw the light of a flame in the air and shadows moving. Pressing her face against the bars of her cell, her eyes widened at the sight that befell her.

One of the cell doors was open and a hunched figure was extracting itself from its confines. The cage lurched on its chains, swinging slightly and causing the shadows to move. In the dim light she could see grey hair and a bony, pale hand. Right in front of it was another figure; she recognized the glint of Fire Nation armor immediately. The man was raised a foot in the air, convulsing and twitching.

"Hey! What's going on?!"

Another guard had arrived. He backed away when he saw what was happening to his comrade, his shoulders brushing against the bars of her cell. When the hunched figure made a move with its arm, the guard who had been in the air was thrown back into a steel wall, screaming. The other guard brought up a flame and she acted on instinct.

Throwing herself on her stomach, she thrust arms through the bars and grabbed the Firebender around his neck, pulling him back with strength she didn't know she possessed. She held him round the throat while he chocked and squirmed, cutting off his air supply. He eventually fainted, slumped in her arms and she let him drop. He landed with a thud on the metal floor.

The hunched figure approached.

Closer, she could tell it was an old woman, frail and terrifying in the dimness.

"You're Kanna's granddaughter," a croaky voice said to her, "Katara."

Katara nodded slowly. This woman was familiar, for all that she was thinner and paler then Katara could recall. Gran Gran used to visit her. She had lived on the outskirts of the village and never came in. The children used to call her a witch, but her name was lost in Katara's tired mind. Her pale grey eyes shone with a cruelty that made the young Waterbender want to shiver. Those eyes went to the motionless Firebender on the ground and a calculating look crossed her face.

"So they haven't crushed you yet," she mused, her voice raspy.

Katara didn't say anything, just watched as the old woman walked away, bending down to retrieve something off the ground. A key. Then she was opening Katara's cell door. She offered a bony hand.

"Come child," she murmured, "We must not waste the moonlight."

Katara frowned at her suspiciously, but took the hand offered.

"Who are you?" she whispered.

The old woman smiled tightly.

"I am Hama."

~ATLA~

"Avatar!" the aging waterbender yelled out into the night, "Come back!"

But the Avatar just kept running. He was faster than any waterbender, using his airbending to propel his speed. He ran until he was alone, far from the lights of the icy city, until the only thing he could see was the silvery light of the moon on the snow. He was breathing hard, his newly grown dark hair long enough to sweep into his eyes and over the blue tattoo he now had to keep hidden from the world. He looked down at the snow beneath his feet, the fur boots he had been given were buried deeply in the wet.

He took a deep breath, exhaling through his nose and spun his arms out. The wind picked up as he molded the air into a swirling ball of force. He threw it into the snow, sending the flakes flying around him in a torrent. Then he screamed, a wordless cry of frustration and bitterness.

As the snow settled again, he glared up at the moon and took several more breaths. He then started working through the katas, every waterbending form he had been taught over the past year. He went through them fluidly, perfectly.

But nothing happened.

He tried drawing the water from the snow; it turned to slush and wouldn't move. He could feel the strength flowing into him from the full moon, something that was supposed to enhance his waterbending. It didn't work. He was close to the sea, so he tried to raise a wave in the water, but the stillness became erratic, the water struggled and refused to obey his will, bubbling and churning on the surface.

He let his arms drop, clutched at his hair and gave another yell of frustration.

"Why can't I get this?!" he demanded of no one but himself. He started punching, great masses of condensed air fired off his fists and cut through the water. Drops flew everywhere, glinting for a moment in the moonlight before splashing back into the sea. He stopped, his breath ragged and everything stilled.

He looked out across the waters, the brightness of the moon illuminated the waves with a pearl grey sheen and he could only stand there, bathing in its glow. The reflected light danced mockingly over the waves, teasing him with its mysterious beauty and its great vastness. He clenched his fists, frustration making his chest tight.

"I'm the Avatar right?" he yelled to the sea, to the moon and to the sky, "I'm supposed to be able to do this!"

Tears stung his eyes, but he forced them back, refusing to cry. He brought his left hand across his chest and rubbed his right shoulder gently. Even after three years, it still pained him sometimes.

He wanted to give up. The water was so unnatural to him in that moment. Both calm and treacherous, giving and fickle. It teased him to reach out to it, yet rebelled when he did. It rejected him.

"Ah, monkey feathers," he cursed softly.

"Bad night, Aang?"

Aang froze at the familiar voice and whipped round wide-eyed. At the sight of the spirit standing behind him, glowing softly with a pale light, his eyes narrowed. The spirit adjusted his bearskin hood and nodded to Aang. The Airbender Avatar sighed tiredly and flopped down in the snow, turning away from his past life.

Double monkey feathers.

"What do you want, Kuruk?"

The older man knelt down so he was level with his newest incarnation, placing his hand on Aang's head. It was a strange feeling being touched by a spirit, Aang decided, like feeling a warm presence more than a comforting touch. He felt a little better.

"We need to talk," the Waterbender said gently, "About where you go from here."

Aang raised an eyebrow.

"I'm listening..."

~ATLA~

Not far away, two aging monks stood on the top of the carved, ice walls of the Northern Water Tribe's great city. They had seen their youngest member run away from his master and could see, despite the distance and the darkness, the flurry of snow his airbending had sent up. His cry had carried through the air to where the two masters stood.

"He's getting restless," one aging monk sighed, closing his eyes for a long moment, "He's not a child any longer, hasn't been since that day."

"He needs to master waterbending," said his compatriot, an older, gruffer man with a long, grey goatee jutting out from his chin, "It's the next element in the cycle. He must stay here Gyatso."

Gyatso pursed his lips.

He had never been able to convince this man of much. It had been this elder that tried to send Aang away in the first place, it had been this man that had willingly sacrificed Aang's childhood and it had been this man who had kept them in this place for so long.

Air Nomads were not meant to linger in one place; it was against their nature.

"Tonight is a full moon," he said, pointing to the sky, "If he was ever going to waterbend Tashi, it should have been tonight. We must move on for now."

"No Avatar has ever learned to bend outside of the traditional order," the elder spluttered.

"Then he will be the first to go backwards," Gyatso retorted, "There is a Firebender here. Now. That is willing to teach him. It might prove impossible to find another if we wait."

It was an idea that had been in Gyatso's head for sometime. The young Firebender had aided greatly in their escaping the Fire Nation's detection then came here to offer further aid. He was sitting in a Water Tribe prison presently, but at Aang's word would most likely be set free. There were so few Firebenders left now who would aid them, even Gyatso's old friends had been silenced in light of the Fire Nation's rise to power.

"He tried to kill the Avatar!" Tashi shouted, outraged by the suggestion, "You know who he is-"

"So do you," Gyatso said meaningfully.

"You let your past friendship with Avatar Roku blind you!"

"There is good in him, he merely needs the chance to prove himself. That boy will always have a struggle within him, it is time to let him fight it out."

Tashi turned away, flushing angrily.

Gyatso sighed sadly.

"If things do not change," he continued gently, "I fear Aang will try to strike out on his own and this time, I don't think I will be able to stop him."

He still remembered that stormy night over three years ago when he had found Aang trying to get Appa to leave his pen. It had taken what seemed like hours to convince his young student that running away was not going to make his problems disappear. The shame-faced boy had sobbed into Gyatso's chest, whilst the monk continually assured him he would not let Aang be taken away.

Knowing what would happen just a few weeks later, Gyatso sometimes wished he had just let Aang run.

"He has grown impulsive over the years," Tashi ground out, oblivious to the turmoil in Gyatso's mind, "Irresponsible."

"He will be a man soon," Gyatso pointed out, "He does not wish to be tied down. He wants to find his own path in this world."

"As the Avatar-"

"As a young man," Gyatso shook his head, "You were the same way, and so were many of us…back then."

"The world is different now," Tashi straightened, ignoring the jibe at his own youthful excursions, "Aang is one of the last younglings we have left, he cannot go out into the world, he will be killed."

"For now, he will do nothing," Gyatso assured him, "But you must be prepared, so must we all. Eventually, we will have to let Aang make his own way."

"You are too kind hearted."

"You are too cynical…it's beginning to rub off on Aang."

"If it keeps him alive-"

"If it stops him from living…"

Gyatso accepted the glare with all the patience of his age, even if he did have the urge to stick his tongue out at the older Airbender. That would never do of course, he'd just have to drop yet another pie on old Tashi's head one of these days. Maybe he could get Aang to help him again…

"Aang is not your child, Gyatso," Tashi continued, "Your attachment to the boy clouds your judgment, just as it always has."

"And your stubbornness narrows your vision," Gyatso retorted easily, "Perhaps in learning the other two elements, Aang will be able to discover what prevents him from waterbending. You press for time, but are willing to waste more of it here. I believe Aang has gained all he can from the North Pole, it is time to move on."

Tashi didn't say anything else, but Gyatso knew he'd won. Spirits, but the man was more hardheaded than most Earthbenders he knew. He looked out onto the dark, icy landscape, his eyes scanning for his student, but there was no longer any sign. He sighed, wondering if he'd have to go out and find Aang.

It was quite cold and he wasn't as young as he used to be.

"Monk Gyatso? Monk Tashi?"

Both men turned in surprise at the voice. It was Aang climbing the steps to where they stood. Gyatso could never quite get over how much his little student had changed in such a short time. Gone was any of the baby fat in his cheeks, leaving a lean, tall figure who almost towered over Gyatso. He hadn't worn the traditional robes of an Air Nomad since they had gone into hiding and so sported a dyed, blue anorak, trimmed with fur. His hair had grown long and shaggy, but the peak of the arrow on his forehead was still prominent, though usually hidden under a fur-lined cap. It was the only indication that he was an Airbending Master. From a first glance, he could have been mistaken for a Water Tribesman. His dark hair flung about wildly from the cold wind and his grey eyes sparked with a determination they hadn't seen there in a long time.

"Where is Zuko?" the young Avatar asked quietly.

Gyatso shot Tashi a look that clearly said; I told you so.

~ATLA~

He sat crossed legged on the skin pallet, his elbows on his knees and his head resting in his hands. He stared at the back wall, a bored expression on his scarred face. There was a bear skin pinned up there, it stretched right across the whole wall, giving a hint to the dimension of the beast it had once belonged to. He had never seen a white bear before, he wondered if it had been as large as he imagined. He sighed, leaning back on the pallet and crossing his arms under his head. He stretched his legs out lazily before bending one and crossing the other over it.

The window was open and he could see the moon shining brightly, it's silvery light casting shadows in the candle lit room. He amused himself for a few minutes by gently bending the flames higher and lower, making the shadows dance against the walls. It didn't last very long and he sighed, turning over.

It would be so easy to get out of his 'prison,' the Water Tribesmen knew that. They even supplied his icy room with warm pelts and burning candles. He could escape, just for a little while, he could leave and explore. But he wouldn't…

Because he had given his word and they trusted him, at least a little.

So he waited, for three months he had waited and he still hadn't been given the audience he wanted. He was getting impatient.

He wondered what Uncle would say?

"Sometimes the best action is no action at all," he told himself, turning on his back again, lifting his finger and taking on his uncle's calm, gruff tone, "Prince Zuko, you must be patient. Now how about some tea?"

He huffed.

"Easier said than done, Uncle," he said to the ceiling.

Of course, if he had listened to his uncle's advice a year ago, he probably wouldn't be in this mess. He touched the puckered scar covering his eye. It still stung with a phantom ache sometimes. The Water Tribe healers had done a fantastic job on healing him, but there would always be a scar. He'd accepted that a while ago.

He wondered where Uncle was right now; it had been months since the whole monstrous mess up. Nearly a year since Zuko had decided to turn traitor. Somehow, he'd imagined being on the run would be a lot more interesting. Here he just felt idle and useless. The North Pole was no place for a Firebender, especially not in the winter, and the nineteen-year-old prince was missing the sunlight.

He snorted.

This was probably why they trusted him this much, even if he was still under a kind of house arrest.

The flap covering the round doorway opened suddenly, disrupting Zuko from his musings. He sat up in surprise when three men entered his room. He recognized the first two as the warriors who guarded his door, but the last was a stranger. They didn't say anything, the guards just nodded to Zuko, leaving the third behind them in the room. One of the guards clasped this stranger on the arm before he left; they exchanged a few whispered words and the stranger nodded solemnly. He was younger than the guards, his face expressionless.

Zuko waited, confused, until he was finally spoken to. They did that a lot, ignored him until he was needed. It had annoyed him at first, but he understood why they did it. What they thought of him...

"You're Prince Zuko, right?" the Water Tribe warrior looked his age, his brown hair was in a wolf-tail, the lower section shaved. He carried a boomerang strapped to his back.

"Yes?" he said quietly, getting to his feet.

The Water Tribe boy eyed him oddly, and then nodded.

"I have a message for you from General Iroh," he unhooked a small scroll from a pouch at his side and held it out to Zuko.

The Firebender grabbed the parchment from the other boy's hand with a hurried 'thanks,' ripped it open and read quickly. He skimmed over most of the details, looking only for word that his uncle was safe. When he had found it, he absorbed the rest, including the instructions to join Iroh's friends in the Earth Kingdom as soon as he could. When he looked up, the Water Tribe boy was still there, watching him curiously.

"I'm supposed to take you or a message back," he explained, then shrugged, "And your uncle made me promise to make sure you were in one piece. Which you seem to be in…so yeah…"

"Oh," Zuko scratched the back of his head in embarrassment, "Well, I can't leave until the Avatar agrees to see me."

"So it's true," the other boy's eyes widened, "The Avatar is really alive?"

Zuko nodded slowly.

"Wow," the Water Tribe boy let out a breath, then looked at Zuko seriously, "Mind if I ask you something?"

"Shoot," the prince sighed.

"Why did you do it?" blue eyes stared at him with a measuring gaze, "Why did you take the blame for killing the Avatar?"

Zuko hesitated, forcing a smile onto his face.

"From my father's point of view, I took the credit," he shook his head, "It seemed like the only thing to do at the time."

"So the other rumors?" the Water Tribe boy pressed on, "They're wrong too?"

"Depends which ones you're talking about," Zuko gave him a humourless smile, and then took a seat. What the hell, this guy was all the distraction he was going to get today, "What's your name anyway?"

"Sokka," he sat down on one of the pelts too, "It's just…you're not exactly what I expected."

"Do I dare ask?" Zuko questioned, bemused.

"Probably shouldn't," Sokka shrugged, "I had something of an angry jerk face in mind, no offense… You're really going to do it right? You're going to teach the Avatar firebending?"

Zuko frowned at his disapproving tone.

"You don't approve."

"Nothing personal," Sokka crossed his arms, "I'm just not a big fan of the style."

Zuko snorted at the other man's candor.

"Not many people are now a days," he crossed his own arms, mimicking Sokka's pose, "And Aang hasn't exactly agreed yet."

Sokka frowned.

"Aang?" he blinked, "That's the Avatar's name?"

"You didn't know that?"

Sokka shook his head.

"No one does," he explained, tilting his head a little, "Only a hand full of people know he's actually alive. My dad's helping your uncle out, that's the only reason I'm here. It's funny…I knew a goofy little airbender named Aang when I was a kid. He was from the Southern Air Temple, visited the tribe a few times to go penguin sledding."

"Did he have a flying bison named Appa?" Zuko asked, his voice a little sad.

Sokka looked up sharply.

"Yeah," he said slowly, he closed his eyes in realization, "Ah Spirits. I'd never even imagined that little kid could be…"

"I know," Zuko agreed, "I knew him before too."

They sat in silence for several long moments. Zuko wondered if Sokka was thinking the same thing he was, wondered if he too was remembering the bright, joking little Airbender who was up for any adventure.

Sokka opened his eyes again.

"Is that why you didn't kill him?" he asked, then smiled a little, "Sorry, never mind…whatever the reason...thank you. I was scared he'd been killed in the genocide."

It was the first time in a long time that Zuko had been thanked for anything. He felt the heat rush to his cheeks and he resisted the sheepish grin that wanted to flood his face. He had done something right then, for all the bad things, he had done one thing right. He had saved someone's friend.

Not sure of what to say, he just nodded.

"So…you're just going to wait until he decides he wants to learn how to firebend?" Sokka asked.

Zuko flushed.

"More or less," he admitted, "The last time Aang and I met…I wasn't really in my right mind. We didn't part on great terms."

"Something to do with the rumors?"

"Probably," Zuko agreed.

"Hmmm," Sokka tapped his fingers against his arm thoughtfully, "Well I-"

He was cut off when the flap opened again and a rather red faced young woman stepped in. She looked a little out of breath, her dark hair messy and her clothes wrinkled.

"It's the Airbenders," she said hurriedly, looking at Zuko, "They want to see you. Right now!"

Zuko had been waiting for something like this for so long, he didn't move. Shock filled him. He was going to see Aang. He was really going to see him. He immediately tried going over all the reasons he'd saved up in his head for wanting to teach Aang how to firebend. None of them seemed adequate all of a sudden. He felt nervous, so very nervous. Sokka gave a bark of laughter, pulling Zuko from his worries.

"You better go, Rumor Boy," he told the Fire Nation prince lightly, "I'll hang around for your return message, then head back to Sanctuary."

Zuko nodded gratefully, getting to his feet.

This was it.

~ATLA~

"Get the hell out of here, girly!" the voice was harsh and tinged with a good dose of fear. She could feel his heart pounding through the earth, rhythmically syncing in with her own. Swallowing hard despite herself, she quickly pushed her body upwards with a pillar of rock hard earth, desperate to free herself. She could hear the panting, the yelling, the screams and the sharp clang of metal on metal. The stench of fresh blood and charred flesh filled her nostrils, making her want to gag.

She propelled herself high above the fighting, speeding her way in and out of the line of fire. Literally. The combatants movements were easy to track, easy to predict, but she could still feel the rush of adrenalin pounding through her, making her move faster, need to jump higher. She used the earth to cushion her fall, absorbing the hard impact of her feet.

"Get down!" he yelled again.

"Shut it, Yuki!" she snarled as she finally reached him, taking out the soldiers advancing on him with one large, well aimed stone wall, knocking them as hard as she could.

"I told you to get lost, Toph!" he shouted back angrily, "You could have gotten hurt!"

"I can take care of myself," Toph growled, proving her point by firing a round of stone fists to capture a ream of firebenders marching towards them. It wasn't until she heard their yelps of surprise and pain that she turned her head in Yuki's directing, a satisfied smirk plastered to her lips.

"Now you're just showing off," the old man grumbled and for once Toph wished she could see his expression.

She often wondered what Yuki looked like. He was heavy, she could sense that from his tread when he walked and his voice sounded old. The amount of times he had mussed up her hair with his big hands told her he was taller then her, but by how much she would never know. She also knew he wore armour. Metal plated across his chest and back. She could feel the hum in that metal, like an old friend greeting her touch.

"Looks like someone's getting snippy in their old age," she teased, "What's the matter old man? Too fast for you?"

"Someone should have taught you to respect your elders, girly," Yuki spat, clearly annoyed.

A rumbling in the earth interrupted her retort. It made the whole area shake and set her gritting her teeth as she realized what it was.

In the last year or so, the Fire Nation had come out with a new 'toy.' A gigantic, metal machine that ran on coal and steam and rolled over the earth with a clattering and clunking she could detect from miles away. It moved slowly, too slowly to really be useful, Toph thought. But what it did was stop normal weapons from penetrating it, though a well-aimed boulder could still do damage. Toph often wondered why the Fire Nation sent such a great, clumsy thing into battle, regardless of the lives lost on their own side. This would be the third one she had seen and they seemed to keep getting harder and harder to take down.

Though she couldn't see exactly what it looked like, she could detect its size and even the number of people riding inside. Yuki had told her once that there were shoots situated near the top from which fire could be distributed.

"Come on, old man," she yelled at him, "We've got work to do!"

Using the earth beneath her feet like a second pair of legs, she dashed towards the machine, the earth roving and moving beneath her, propelling her forward. She launched a series of large boulders at it, knowing that other earthbenders were doing the same. They bounded off the metal shell, denting and turning the thing off course. She could feel Yuki somewhere off to her left, making jagged pieces of rock sprout from the ground, breaking into the machine's wheels and chains. It worked to an extent, almost managing to tip the metal contraption over.

Screaming met her ears, the smell of blood fresh around her. She ignored it. This was war, this was what she had signed up for and this was what she had to deal with.

There was no time for regrets now.

Taking a deep breath, She made a dash for the machine, ignoring Yuki's yells for her to stop. She reached it in seconds, launching her whole body into the assault. Her fingers hit the metal, gripping it as though it were no more a cloth she was about to pull off. Her heels dug and dented into the frame as she ripped it apart.

This was why they let her fight out here, after all. She was a metalbender, the first to ever exist.

She tore a hole in that machine and then bent its wheels for good measure. The other earthbenders flooded in behind her, adding their own share of damage. All she could hear was rock scrapping against metal, the screams of the firebenders and the loud hiss of steam as the machine finally succumbed to their attacks.

After that, everything happened in a whirl of sound. Shouts from men on both sides, the crunch of stone on metal and the deafening smack of rock colliding with bodies. Toph found herself side by side with Yuki once more, fending off attack and listening for any directions he would give.

"Cover now!" he yelled suddenly.

Toph didn't hesitate. Immediately she threw up a stone tent, blocking out any openings and waited. Seconds later she could feel the dull thuds of arrows colliding with the rock, battering in like heavy rainfall. She could feel Yuki beside her, breathing out a small sigh of relief and allowed herself a slight smile.

Arrows.

She hated arrows.

Recently she had been trying to use her metalbending as a way of deciphering if arrows were heading towards her, but it was difficult. The metal arrowheads approaching her at those speeds were almost impossible to sense. And even if she could, she had to concentrating on the task of detecting them. This was one time when she had to admit her blindness was a disadvantage. If someone was far enough away and aimed one of those death sticks at her, she might not be able to defend herself in time.

And the thought of that chilled her to the bone.

If there was one thing Toph didn't like being, it was helpless.

The barrage of falling arrows finally stopped. With an angry shake of her head, Toph immediately stomped her foot, using the vibrations to sense where the would-be archers were and fired the two stone slabs acting as her roof at them. Annoying bugs that tried to sting her from so far away deserve to be squished.

"I got 'em Yuki!" she said confidently, "You can stop shaking in your boots now!"

He didn't retort.

"Yuki?" she frowned, stamping her foot. The vibrations didn't have to carry far. Her eyes went wide as she recognized the body lying not two feet away from her.

"Yuki!" she screamed.

She really hated arrows.

Hours seemed to pass before she got him to the healing tents, refusing to abandon her comrade for even a moment. She took a position beside his bed and wouldn't budge as the healer worked. She didn't move, didn't hear the healer as he muttered to himself, calling for supplies. She listened for other things.

She sniffed loudly, waiting for his heartbeat to grow stronger. But it never did. As each minute passed she could feel the life giving rhythm grow slower and fainter. He was slipping away. Tears worked their way down her face, involuntarily and without any ceremony. She gasped and chocked on them, trying to fight back those traitorous tears.

"You stupid, girly-ass named jerk!" she hissed out at him, "Grouchy old bastard! You stick around – you stick around or I'll – I'll beat your sorry butt!"

But she knew her voice wasn't reaching him. She couldn't feel anything, not a flutter. Gradually, the heartbeat grew weaker and weaker, until finally, there was nothing but silence.

She ran from the tent, ignoring the yells trying to draw her back. She couldn't stand it and she wanted to be alone. This was her mistake after all, she had let herself get close to someone and now they were gone. The last thing she needed was for anyone else to think she needed comfort.

She threw rocks and smashed stone pillars to dust for a long while, refusing to let more tears fall. When she finally felt a little better, she squared her shoulders and stilled her expression. Toph strode back to camp, her whole demeanor daring anyone to comment.

"The moon is awfully bright tonight," she heard someone comment lightly as she passed.

Far above her, shining through the trees, the moonlight fell on the earthbender. Like so many things though, it was something she would never see.

~ATLA~

Sokka stretched out a little as he waited for Zuko to return, wondering what was taking the firebender so long. He also wondered if the Avatar really was Aang. It could be a coincidence, after all. Aang wasn't exactly a rare name amongst airbenders.

He sighed wearily, feeling far older than his eighteen years. It would be nice to see at least one person he'd known before the war had survived. There seemed to be so few of them now. Most of the boys Sokka's age had either been taken and imprisoned or had already died. Not to mention he had already lost both his mother and sister to this war.

Now it seemed his father was determined not to lose him too.

Though he had convinced his father all those years ago to let him join the war effort instead of staying at home, he still got the feeling he was being shielded. It was why he was given missions like this. Delivering messages and making sure wayward royals ended up back with their uncles. Still, these things tended to bring more trouble than they were worth. He didn't know how long he'd be here, waiting for Zuko's message, and then there was the somewhat hazardous trip to where his father was encamped. After that, the message would be relayed back through a Fire Nation ally and to General Iroh. It would take weeks, if not months, before the General got his reply.

In the mean time, Sokka would likely be sent on yet another errand. If his father was in a particularly protective mood, he'd likely be sent home to help there.

Sokka frowned at the thought.

That wouldn't help them find Katara.

After three years, he still held onto the hope that his younger sister was alive. They had received reports barely a year after she was taken of where the Fire Nation was holding waterbender prisoners. This made little sense to Sokka. Why hadn't the Fire Nation just killed them? Not that he was complaining, but it seemed like a large tactical risk. Even if the prisons were in the Fire Nation, there was always the chance for escape.

He wished he had a better idea of what the prisons were like, but any Intel passed to them had been confusing and not altogether feasible. He wished as well that he had the kind of authority to organize a rescue mission, but with the war growing ever more treacherous, the blockade around Fire Nation waters and his own age playing a factor, he was never able to get anyone to listen.

There was just too much, and Katara was slipping through the cracks.

He looked out of the window, his gaze falling on the full moon. He liked to think Katara was watching that same moon right now.

"Tui," he muttered, he didn't really believe in spirits and the like, but it was worth a shot, "Look after my sister, okay?"

He didn't receive an answer, of course, but he felt a little better. He'd save Katara, he promised himself silently, and he'd bring her home. Someday.

Still watching the moon, he didn't notice that the flap door to the room had opened, or that someone had stepped in. He didn't notice anything until he felt a soft tap on his shoulder and heard a soft "Excuse me."

He looked up.

And stared.

She was probably the most beautiful girl Sokka had ever seen, even lovelier than Katara's friend Miri, who had often been praised as a village beauty. The first thing he noticed was her snow, white hair. He had never seen a girl with hair like that. Then there were her eyes, a sparkling kind of blue – like sunlight on water! – and then her face, soft and graceful featured and-

Then he realized she was talking.

"Um, what?' he said dumbly.

"I said," Her voice was light with amusement, "My father told me a messenger had come in. I was wondering if you might deliver this to Captain Shinju?"

He realized she was holding out a small scroll to him. It was wrapped in leather to keep it dry and sealed with wax to discourage nosy persons from taking a peak. He had been so enchanted with her eyes and her smile, that he hadn't realized anything else about her. Now that he did though, he rose to his feet quickly.

Her manner of dress, the fine furs and even the way she held herself screamed someone from the upper classes of Northern Water Tribe society. Sokka knew enough of Northern etiquette to realize remaining seated like that had been rather rude. She didn't seem to notice, though her lips did quirk a little as she watched him, still holding out the scroll.

He nodded a little jerkily, bewildered as he accepted the scroll from her. Captain Shinju led the Northern warriors and was currently encamped with his father in the Earth Kingdom.

"Not a problem," he managed to choke out.

She smiled at him and his heart seemed to melt like ice beside a flame. She was definitely the loveliest girl he had ever laid eyes on.

"Thank you," she said gratefully, bowing her head a little.

"Ah, I'm Sokka, by the way," he blurted out, flushing, "I don't – I don't think we've met before."

"We haven't," her eyes crinkled with mirth, "You're Chief Hakoda's son."

Sokka just nodded dumbly.

"I'm Yue," she said, amused, "Chief Arnook's daughter."

His eyes widened.

"The princess!" he squeaked out, and coughed roughly, "I mean, of course. Princess Yue. Nice to meet you."

Her smile widened.

Encouraged, Sokka smiled back.

They spoke a little from there, though to be honest most of it consisted of Sokka making a fool of himself and Yue giggling with shy amusement. He felt a funny kind of warmth from speaking to her. All too soon though, their discussion ended. She gave him a regretful sort of look as she was called away. Sokka found himself staring dopily after her, already smitten.

It was too bad he'd have to leave soon.

"Yue," he rolled the name on his tongue, liking it, "Princess Yue."

The world was such a funny place these days, imagine him meeting a real princess!

He cast a glance to the seat Zuko had long since vacated and a frown marred his face for a moment.

"And a prince too, I guess," he muttered to himself.

The world was a funny place indeed.

He was distracted from his thought by the sound of approaching voices. Hoping it was Zuko returning, Sokka sat up a little straighter, watching the door.

"Well where is he?" a voice practically whined, startling the young Water tribesman, "He's an old friend!"

"Waiting in the next room," the guard's voice was fairly gruff.

Sokka looked up, more than surprised when an incredibly happy looking Water Tribe boy came bounding into the room, dragging the Fire Nation prince behind him like some kind of play doll. Zuko was looking awkward, pulling his sleeve away from the boy's grip and shifting uncomfortably on his feet. The boy was looking at Sokka with a big grin.

"Sokka! It's really you!"

Sokka frowned, his eyes scanning over a rather familiar looking face. Though narrower now from the loss of puppy fat and perhaps more weary than a teenage boy's face should be, Sokka recognized it. There was a headband tied over where the peak of his arrow should be and his hair had grown out considerably.

"Aang?" Sokka exclaimed, nearly falling flat on his face.

The young Airbender laughed out loud, looking happily between Sokka and Zuko. There was a spark in his eyes, something between relief and burning hope.

"It's been a while," Aang said meaningfully, tugging Zuko back into the room, "The three of us have some things to talk about."

Sokka recognized the determined glow in Aang's face, as though preparing himself for some grand adventure. Feeling a little suspicious, Sokka didn't say anything, looking between the airbender and the firebender.

He knew this mission was going to bring trouble.

~ATLA~

Katara's bare feet stung a little on the harsh, stony ground. She had been cooped up in her cage for so long, her legs felt a little weak and she was prone to stumbling. Luckily, Hama was patient. She laid a strong hand on Katara's arm to steady her and offered a kind smile. Katara smiled back, whatever cruelty she had detected in the woman before must have been her imagination.

"Your strength will return in time," the older Waterbender assured her, "We will only walk a little further, find a place to sleep and regain some energy."

Katara nodded gratefully.

They had practically walked out of the prison together. She was surprised when Hama told her they could not free anyone else, stating that most of the Waterbenders had either perished, or were too weak to be moved. Katara hadn't argued, she had been too grateful and too weak herself to say much. It still seemed surreal to her, this woman suddenly saving her. And the way she did it, the way she stopped many more guards as they walked away, it both haunted and thrilled her.

"How did you do it?" she found herself rasping, her throat was still so dry, "You just shoved them away without even touching them."

Hama's eyes glinted in the moonlight.

"A waterbending technique I…created in my youth," her voice sounded innocent, "For self defense only, of course. I could teach you."

Katara imagined those amber eyes staring at her, approaching her, attacking her. She never wanted to be in that position again. She would rather die! So lost in her thoughts, she barely registered the hungry look in Hama's face, or the way her fingers seemed to twitch with anticipation.

"I want to learn," she told Hama, smiling.

Hama's returning smile was practically gloating.

"I think you will learn it very well," she cackled a little, "Kanna told me you were one of the best Waterbenders in the tribe. A Master before your fourteenth year."

Katara blushed.

"I miss home," she admitted, "We'll get back though, right?"

She looked at the woman imploringly.

Hama reached up with a bony hand and squeezed her shoulder.

"We are two Waterbending Masters," she said, "What could stop us?"

In the night, she heard the mournful cry of a cat-owl and felt the gentle breath of a warm breeze caress her blistered skin. The moon shone brightly above, bathing them in its glow, in its power, in its strength. She took a deep breath and walked beside the old woman, dreams of home filling her head. Swirling snow falls and deep, blue oceans. High, icy terrains covered in all that wonderful white. Hope like she hadn't felt in a long time stirred in her heart. She was going home. She didn't feel like a seventeen-year-old girl who had just been freed from a horrible prison, she felt like a child who was being led towards something new. A child, who was being guided and protected, a child, who could trust implicitly the old woman beside her and hold onto her bony hand without fear. Hama was Gran-Gran's friend after all.

She had to be safe now; she just had to be.

~ATLA~

A/N: And so it begins. This prologue takes place about three or four years after Sozin's comet. I started writing this story over a year ago and decided it was time to get at least a chapter up. This is definitely the most ambitious I've been with a story, so we'll see how it pans out. Aang's waterbending block was inspired by The Last Airbender movie (I can't say much else is), though I call it 'block' lightly as he can waterbend, just not very well. Initially, this story will be very Katara-centric.

There's a lot of minor characters to play with too. Bringing in the Air Nomad characters we see briefly in Aang's past was especially tempting. With this kind of story, there will be quite a few OCs, but the focus will always remain on one of the canon characters. I also plan to bring in the four characters from the trading card game, though two will only be mentioned. Another facet I'm interested in exploring is Katara entering the Gaang as the final member instead of Zuko.

I do give some fair warning, this is an AU and although I will attempt to keep the canon aspects of the Avatar world, there are a few things I am changing. The biggest, of course, being that this story effectively squashes the two times together. So things like the technology, while not necessarily as advanced, are still present. I offer some interpretative thoughts on Air Nomad culture and spiritual abilities, and on Ba Sing Se at the beginning of the war.

Thanks for reading!