Warnings: This story is rated M for contents that some may find disturbing, upsetting, or triggering, including:

-Graphic violence

-Detailed description of injury

-Multiple major character deaths

-Torture (including torture with drugs)

-Warfare

-Imperialism (along with the accompanying racism and brainwashing)

-Slavery

-Child abuse (physical, emotional and neglect)

If material of this nature will upset you, do not read.


Disclaimer: I do not own and have never owned A:tLA, and I am making no monetary profit from this story.


"No…"

The word left her lips before she realized she was saying it, without any notion as to why she should be saying it at all.

Oh, there were a few hints, some pieces that fell together of their own accord. The blue pillar of light she'd seen in the distance could only mean one thing: somehow, by whatever chance or miracle, Aang had unblocked his chakra and obtained the Avatar State. It could have gone out again for any number of reasons. Maybe Aang had won, and he simply didn't need to be in the Avatar State anymore. She should be feeling hopeful.

No matter how many times she told herself that, however, the only thing Katara could feel was a pit of dread in her stomach, an ominous premonition that was only growing stronger by the second. Try as she might, she could not shake the feeling that something was dreadfully, horribly wrong.

Zuko shifted at her side, one arm still wrapped around her shoulders for support. Glancing over at him, Katara could see that her own feeling of dread was perfectly mirrored in his face, which only served to amplify her own worry.

"Katara—"

"No." She shook her head emphatically. "Aang is okay. He beat the Fire Lord, the war is over, and everything is going to be fine." Even as she spoke them, however, she knew that she was only saying the words to convince herself.

Thankfully, he dropped it—though she sensed that it was because he knew further arguing would have been pointless rather than because he agreed with her. Instead, he turned his attention to Azula, who still lay chained and sobbing on the ground.

Katara, taking her cue from him because she wanted—needed—to think about anything other than Aang, looked to the fallen princess as well. "What are we going to do about her?"

"I—" Suddenly, however, Zuko's attention was on something else entirely; removing his arm from her shoulders, he staggered forward, his eyes on the horizon. Following his gaze, Katara saw a small black dot rapidly making its way toward them through the unnaturally reddened sky.

Was that… Hawky?

Zuko held out an arm. The bird came to him willingly enough—it was Hawky; only Sokka would tie a string of blue beads to the leg of a messenger bird—and Zuko opened the message tube on its back, unrolling the parchment that was sealed within. His good eye widened as he read the message before his arm fell down to hang limply at his side, the culmination of all the dread that had fallen on them a few minutes ago now showing in his face.

"The Avatar has fallen."

"No…" As she spoke, Katara stepped back from him, as if, instead of information, he had some sort of contagious disease.

"Katara…"

"No!" All at once, the puddles of water that still littered the arena froze solid, sheets of ice spiderwebbing out from where she stood. "Aang didn't lose! I trained him! You trained him! Toph, and the monks before us, and Guru Pathik… Aang is the Avatar! We didn't…"

Wordlessly, not looking at her, Zuko handed over the scroll.

Sokka's writing was still one of the sloppiest things she had ever seen—even more so than usual, given that the letter had been written in obvious haste. Still, Katara was sure she would have been able to read it all the way through, if only the characters hadn't suddenly gotten so blurry.

As it was, she only managed to make it through "Aang lost, you need to get out of there" before hot water welled in her eyes. Sokka wouldn't joke about something this serious—and if she'd ever had any doubts as to whether he was mistaken, the scrap of cloth that had been rolled in with the parchment, a cheerful (and horribly familiar) shade of yellow but for the scorch marks and the liberal splattering of blood, had permanently removed them.

"…we didn't train him to lose." The scroll slipped from her numb fingers to land in the rapidly-thawing ice that now covered the arena. The scrap of cloth fluttered down beside it, immediately darkening as it soaked up the water.

"Katara." Zuko's hand was on her shoulder, and now he was meeting her eyes, the depths of her own pain mirrored in his yellow irises. "We have to leave. It's not safe for us here anymore."

"I—" A shudder went through her body, but she straightened her back, forcing herself to pull together. Aang wouldn't have wanted them to give up. "You're right."

A crashing noise from behind them drew her attention back to Azula, who was trying more desperately than ever to free herself. The princess was now straining violently against her bonds, and at every movement the chains jerked up against the grate, producing a clanging of metal on metal as tears poured down her face and blue fire out of her mouth. "What are we going to do about her?" Katara asked again.

A moment passed in silence. Then, however, Zuko let out a breath. "We have to take her with us."

Katara looked at him incredulously. "Zuko, she just tried to kill us both." She motioned to the angry burn that showed through the hole in his shirt, still red and weeping in spite of her best efforts. "In your case, she almost succeeded."

"I know." His voice was heavy. "But she's still my sister. And…" He looked over to Azula, whose efforts had accomplished nothing other than sending her face-first into the ground, screaming as a fresh onslaught of tears spilled from her eyes. "My father won't be any more merciful with her than he was with me."

Katara's mouth was already open to argue the point, but she found that not a single word would come out to back her up. Zuko was right. They hadn't left him to freeze to death at the North Pole, even though they'd been bitter enemies at the time, because Aang had insisted otherwise. Azula, as twisted and sadistic as she was, should still have the same chance they had given her brother.

Slowly, she nodded, biting her lip. Even as she acquiesced, however, Katara could not help but throw further glances at the fallen princess, who, though she had grown much weaker now that the comet was disappearing from the sky, was still breathing jets of blue fire that had the potential to seriously hurt anyone who was careless enough to get in the way. "She's still dangerous."

"We'll have to keep her tied up, and keep a constant watch on her, day and night." When Zuko met her eyes, she saw the apology in them and knew that he knew exactly what he was asking of her.

She gave him a curt nod, more decisive this time, and did not break eye contact. "I understand."

"Could you tie her up more thoroughly?" The gratitude in Zuko's eyes showed only for a split second before he turned his head to look into the dark, empty palace. "I'm going to get us some supplies."

While Zuko disappeared into the shadows, Katara did as he had asked and went about binding Azula's hands and feet with fireproof rope. The princess, even though she did not seem lucid enough to consciously struggle, was determined not to make the job easy: her hands gave violent jerks at the most unexpected moments, and she never stopped moving long enough for Katara to get a proper grip on her sweat-slick wrists. Eventually Katara was forced to freeze her hands together just to give herself enough time to bind the rope properly.

She took no pleasure in the task. For so long now, Katara had hated and feared the Fire Nation princess, possibly even more so than she'd once hated Zuko. Zuko may have betrayed her trust, badly, but Azula was the one who had once taken Aang's life, and had just come heart-stoppingly close to taking Zuko's as well. Katara would have thought that she'd be furious, or at the very least gleeful that the once-proud princess had been brought so low. Instead, she only felt pity.

Once Katara had finished binding Azula's wrists, she un-froze her hands so that she would not suffer frostbite before starting in on her feet. As she continued doing what needed to be done, Katara forced herself to focus on the task at hand—and only on that. She didn't think she could bear to think about Aang, or about the war and the crushing sense of hopelessness that had descended on her as soon as she'd realized they had lost. Nor did she want to think about what might have happened to Sokka, who would have been in the thick of the fighting along with Suki and Toph, or about what might have become of the members of the Order of the White Lotus—Master Pakku among them. She couldn't afford to break down right now, not when they were preparing to flee for their lives, and so she put all of her focus into her knots. By the time Zuko came back out, carrying a large traveling bag, Azula was securely bound.

Katara frowned as she set eyes on her friend. In the immediate aftermath of the battle she had been worrying about too many other things to look him over thoroughly, but now she couldn't help but notice that Zuko was visibly staggering as he walked, that beads of sweat were standing out against the too-pale skin of his forehead, that he had gingerly avoided putting the strap of the bag over his right shoulder, or that his breath was coming in short, shallow gasps. When Katara had healed him, she'd been so focused on mending the damage to his heart that she'd barely managed to touch the surface burns, and she realized that Zuko must still be in severe pain.

"Are you okay?" she asked, frowning even more when he let the bag drop to the ground rather than setting it down.

Instead of answering, he turned his attention to Azula. "There's no way she can get loose?"

"No." Katara ignored the way he had dodged the question—for now. "Water Tribe knots don't come undone."

"Good." He took a long look around the arena, as if fixing the place in his memory one last time. In spite of the urgency of their situation, she didn't press him. Now that the possibility of never seeing her home again had just become very, very real, Katara wished with a pang that she'd taken a better look at the South Pole before she had left.

"We need to get going," Zuko said at last, shaking himself out of his trance. "I'll go get Appa—"

"No, I'll get Appa." She laid a hand on his arm. "You need to sit down."

That Zuko did not argue with her was a mark of both how exhausted and hurt he was, and how far their friendship had progressed in the short time they'd known each other as anything other than adversaries. When he sank to the floor of the arena, not even bothering to fold his legs underneath him, Katara was glad she'd insisted.

Appa was just outside of the arena. The bison did not even acknowledge her presence when she stepped up beside him. Instead, his gaze was fixed immovably on the eastern horizon—the direction of the Earth Kingdom. She was just beginning to think that Appa hadn't noticed her at all when he raised his head to the sky and let out a soft, low moan.

He knows. The knowledge washed over her with the force of an ocean wave, and Katara felt a sudden burning in her eyes as her heart lurched with empathy for the creature before her.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, reaching up to bury both hands and face in Appa's thick fur—as close as she could get to hugging such a large animal. "I'm sorry." An answering rumble went through Appa's body in turn, and before she knew it sobs were tearing from her throat, her whole body shaking with every breath.

After a few minutes—or it might have been half an hour—of burying her grief in Appa's soft coat, however, she remembered that they were in the middle of a war (which they had just lost badly), that she had left Zuko, badly wounded, alone in the arena with his crazed sister, that her brother had been in the battle right along with Aang and she needed to find out what had happened to him, and that they were running on borrowed time until people started returning to the palace, at which point they would need to be elsewhere.

"Appa." She pulled away from the bison, her voice low. Her tears had all dried in his fur. "We need your help."

Lowing softly, he turned to face her for the first time since she had come out to find him. His nose bumped into her stomach, as if he wanted Katara to do for him what he had just done for her. If it were physically possible, she would have.

Instead, she reached up to pat the sides of his face—it was as much of him as she could reach. "I know you miss Aang," she said, fighting a fresh wave of tears as she spoke Aang's name. "But we need to get out of here now. All of us. Zuko's hurt. The palace guards could be back at any minute. I don't… I don't want the rest of us to go out like this."

Once again, Appa breathed out, and Katara could have sworn that he had let out a sob. Then, however, he turned and started plodding back toward the arena.

"Thank you, Appa."

Zuko shot her a look of concern and relief when she came back into view with Appa by her side—she must have been gone longer than she had thought—but did not ask what had taken her so long, for which Katara was grateful. He had not moved from where she had left him.

"Let's get going." As Zuko pushed himself painfully to his feet, Katara hefted their supplies into the saddle. When she turned back to Zuko, she saw that his gaze was now on Azula, who was still struggling madly from her place on the ground but had only managed to squirm around to the other side of the grate.

"I could try to—"

"Let me." There was still plenty of water under the grate. Bending it to her will, Katara swept it up under the princess, making a moving wave of ice that deposited Azula on Appa's back before retreating back the way it had come. Appa growled slightly as the extra weight settled on his saddle, and Katara sent him a silent apology.

"I suppose that works."

"Yes it does. Come on." Before he could protest, she was at his side, wrapping an arm around his waist and pulling his arm around her shoulders in turn. He blinked at her in surprise. "Katara, I'm—"

"Zuko, you can barely stand. Don't try to tell me you don't need help." She did not loosen her grip as she helped him walk up Appa's tail and into the saddle. Apparently too tired to protest further, he only gave a sigh of resignation as Appa obligingly lifted his tail to give them an even path.

Even as she helped him into a sitting position, she turned to Zuko once more. "What's the best way to get out of here while avoiding the airship fleet?"

For a moment, he seemed to consider. "Let's head for the Sun Warrior ruins," he said at last. "The island is off the fleet's course, and is of no real interest to anyone but historians. We should be able to lie low there."

Katara gave a decisive nod. Climbing onto Appa's head, she flicked the reins. "Yip yip."

The last of the red light from Sozin's Comet had faded from the sky as they flew, leaving behind a veil of dark blue covered with twinkling stars. It was much cooler up here than it was on the ground, and before long Azula's mad thrashing gave way to violent shivers; she was still soaking wet. Zuko looked at his sister with concern before turning back to her. "Katara…"

"I know." Letting out a sigh, she stood and made her way back to the saddle. With a few swift motions of her hands, the water had lifted from Azula's body.

"I d-d-don't n-need your h-help, you f-filthy p-p-peasant…" Her teeth were chattering so hard she could barely speak.

"I'm not doing it for you." Katara's words, however, lacked any real heat. Looking away from Azula, not wanting to interact with her for longer than was strictly necessary, she laid eyes on Zuko and saw to her concern that he was shivering as well.

"Let me see." The command brooked no argument—but it was still a gentle one.

In the end, Katara had to help him out of his shirt. By this point Zuko could barely move his arm without pain, and even the lightest touch to the center of the burn caused him to hiss in agony as burnt cloth peeled away from burnt skin.

Sokka, for all his talk of manhood, would have been screaming bloody murder by now. Even Aang had been unable to hold back his whimpering whenever she'd changed his bandages after Azula's lightning strike. Zuko gritted his teeth and dug his fingernails into his palms, but barely made a sound.

Thankfully, he had packed medical supplies—burn salve, antiseptic, dried leaves whose purpose she'd have to ask about later, and plenty of fresh bandages. As things stood, it looked as if Zuko was going to need most of them. Katara frowned as she examined his injuries in more detail than she had been able to earlier. The hand he had used to catch Azula's lightning was unhurt, but a series of red streaks started at his shoulder, becoming more pronounced as they ran down the right side of his chest until his skin broke out into the angry star-shaped burn right below his heart. It was as if he had been burned from the inside out.

"That was where I started to lose control of it," Zuko explained as she looked at his shoulder. "I wasn't in a proper stance—" He bit off his sentence, clenching his teeth in pain as she began cleaning the burns.

"Sorry." She winced. "But if this gets infected…"

"I know." He leaned his head back, squeezing his eyes closed. "Just do what you have to."

She moved as quickly as possible, not wanting to prolong his suffering. Once the burns had been cleaned, Katara gave him another healing session with the water, but it accomplished little. Yugoda had once taught her that even for the most skilled of healers, the body had limits of its own, and it seemed as if they had reached Zuko's. Unable to do anything else for him, Katara made use of the burn salve, dabbing it as gently as she could over the raw skin.

Once she had finished with that, she eased a hand beneath his back. "I need you to sit up now." When she was sure he could support himself, Katara began bandaging the burns. She worked in silence, the only sounds the wind in her ears, Zuko's jerky breathing, and Azula beside them squirming against her bonds.

"I think that's the best I can do for now," Katara said as she tied off the last bandage.

"It feels a lot better," Zuko admitted. A second later, however, a shiver went through his body as the night air blew across his bare skin.

Immediately he cupped his hands around his mouth and started breathing, every exhale producing a small puff of flame. It visibly reduced his shivering, but Katara could also see that it was wearing him out—he was sweating with the exertion, and each breath seemed to cost him more effort than the last. Between the exhaustion of battle and the wounds he had received, it was energy he didn't have to spare.

Frowning, Katara dug into their supplies again. Thankfully, she found three blankets at the very bottom of the bag, and pulled them out one by one, handing the first to Zuko.

"Thanks." He wrapped it gingerly around his shoulders.

"How much farther do we have to go?" Standing up in the saddle, Katara made her way back to Azula, who was still shaking with cold, and tossed the second blanket over her. In spite of her obvious discomfort, the princess immediately tried to throw it off, but was unable to move sufficiently to accomplish more than shifting it a little.

Zuko climbed up to Appa's head, peering out toward the horizon. "We're almost there. Look." Following his pointing finger, Katara saw a small dark landmass growing steadily bigger; she could just make out the spires of ancient buildings rising up from a lush jungle canopy.

Taking the reins, Zuko steered them toward the ground. As she peered over the edge of the saddle, Katara couldn't help but notice that the course he had chosen would lead them not into the ancient city, but into a strip of wilderness between the ruins and the beach.

Frowning, she turned her attention from the ground to her companion. "Zuko? Aren't we going to set down in the city?"

"The city is full of booby traps, and I doubt Aang and I managed to find all of them our first time here. Besides, it'll be harder to spot us if we're under the trees."

Katara's frown deepened. Zuko and Aang had always been a bit vague on what exactly they had found in the Sun Warrior ruins, and she had a hard time believing that a single firebending form was in and of itself enough to help them improve so drastically. While she didn't think that either of them had lied outright, Katara had reason to believe that there was something—something big—that they had left out. Still, she couldn't fault Zuko's logic, and if whatever information he and Aang had been withholding was too sensitive to share with their friends, she certainly wasn't going to press him for it with Azula in the back of the saddle; the princess had suddenly gone very, very still and was watching them with an attentive gaze that Katara didn't like one bit. So she quashed her curiosity and instead gave an affirmative nod.

They set down next to a small stream, well under the canopy of the trees but still within sight of the city. It was easy enough for Katara to get both their supplies and Azula down from the saddle, but they were presented with some degree of trouble by the saddle itself.

Katara had never fully realized how heavy or unwieldy the thing was without Aang there to airbend it off, and as she and Zuko struggled to lift even so much as an edge, she found herself fighting not to scream and cry in frustration. After a few minutes of struggle with no success, she reached her breaking point. "I can't do this!" Dropping the edge she'd been holding, which elicited a cry of alarm from Zuko as the saddle nearly crushed his fingers, Katara turned her back on Appa and fell to the ground, wrapping her arms around her shins and burying her face in her knees.

It was only then, as she sat hunched on the uncaring ground of a foreign land, that the truth of what had happened truly hit her, the weight of it falling onto her shoulders with the force of a tidal wave. Aang was dead. The boy she had laughed with, played with, and fought side-by-side with, the boy she had watched grow from a carefree child into the savior of the world, her dear friend she had cared for deeply and might even have loved, was gone—forever.

Even worse, they had lost the war. She didn't know what had happened to her brother. She didn't know what had happened to her father. She and Zuko might have escaped with their lives, but they were two teenagers up against an entire nation—a nation that had again and again proven itself capable of murdering millions in its bid for power. Tears squeezed themselves from her eyes as she drew her knees in tighter to her chest. Azula's plan hadn't been in error: what hope they'd had had been burned to the ground along with most of the Earth Kingdom.

Dimly, she was aware of cautious footsteps approaching her from behind, gentle rustles in the undergrowth of the forest. They stopped beside her, close but still at least an arm's length away. She didn't turn to look. "Katara…"

"Don't tell me to calm down!" Her breath was coming in choking gasps.

"I wasn't going to." Opening her eyes, she turned her head just enough to see Zuko kneeling down beside her.

"I can't do this," she repeated, much more quietly this time, and now the tears were flowing freely, running down her face to soak the cloth of her skirt. "I can't—" She brought a hand up to dry her face, only for the tears she'd wiped away to be immediately replaced by a fresh onslaught. "Aang's gone." Giving up on wiping her eyes, she instead covered her face with her hands. "Aang's gone. There's never going to be another Avatar—"

"What do you mean?" Zuko sounded genuinely alarmed, and when she turned to look at him again she saw that his good eye was widened in shock. "What do you mean, there's not going to be another Avatar? There has to be another Avatar! I mean…"

"You really don't know?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about." She turned away. "Katara! What don't I know?"

All at once, she was no longer angry or frustrated. Instead, she only felt tired—tired and empty, as if she didn't have any tears left to cry.

"It's something Aang told us, after Roku told him." Her voice was so quiet that Zuko had to lean in a little in order to hear her. "He said—" She took a shaky breath. "He said that if he died in the Avatar State, it would break the reincarnation cycle. That blue light we saw couldn't have been anything but the Avatar State."

A motion from the corner of her eye caught Katara's attention. Turning her head, she saw that Zuko had fallen the rest of the way to the ground, and that his face was now in his hands.

"Zuko… what do we have left? We lost, and the world's never going to be in balance again. It's over."

The silence stretched out between them. Slowly, numbness seemed to spread out over her body and mind, enveloping her in its welcoming embrace. She was so tired. All at once, the war seemed so pointless, their escape seemed so pointless, and Katara wanted nothing more than to sit here and not move ever again—

"It's not over."

Startled, she brought her head up and turned to look at Zuko. His posture was weary, his face pinched with pain and stress, but he had a determined glint in his eye as he met her gaze and did not look away.

"Look, I know that things are bad right now," he continued, seeming more confident now that he had her attention. "The world's in the worst state that it's ever been in our lives—but we can't give up because of that. We're still alive, we still have each other, and there's a chance that the others—why are you looking at me like that?"

For the first time since that awful day had begun, Katara felt a smile creep onto her face. "Nothing. It's just—" More tears fell from her eyes, and she wiped them away gently, but the smile did not fade. "You sounded a lot like Aang right there."

Zuko's mouth hung open as he looked at her, giving him a rather comical expression. "I did?"

Still smiling, Katara pushed herself to her feet. "Yeah." She held out her hand. "You kind of did." Grasping the offered hand, Zuko allowed her to pull him to his feet.

Their mood sobered somewhat as they turned back to Appa, who was huddled on the ground in a miserable heap. "We still have to get the saddle off."

"Let's focus on that for now. We'll worry about everything else later."

In the end, Katara resorted to waterbending again. After convincing Appa to stand up, she bent the water from the stream into four pillars of ice that worked their way under the edges of the saddle, lifting it from Appa's back. Zuko then coaxed him to walk out from underneath it without breaking the ice. Once Appa was clear, Katara lowered the saddle gently back to the ground.

After that, they took things one step at a time. They made an adequate if not particularly memorable dinner of the dried food that Zuko had brought from the palace—with night fallen and the war lost, they did not dare to start a fire. Zuko even attempted to give a share to Azula, but the princess refused to eat.

"Don't torture yourself," Katara said, not unkindly, when he gave up, looking dejected. "One day without food isn't going to kill her. She'll eat once she gets hungry enough."

"Yeah," Zuko replied, though he didn't look encouraged. "I suppose you're right."

"So what's this?" she asked him a bit later, while they were cleaning up the meager remains of their meal. He leaned over to look into her hand, which held the dried leaves she had noticed earlier.

"An herbal tea," he explained, wrapping the remaining half of a loaf of bread before shoving it back into the bag. "For pain."

"Maybe you should have some, then." Zuko might have been good at not showing it, but she knew firsthand how much even minor burns could hurt. There was no way that he was not in pain.

For a moment, he seemed to consider it, but then he turned away and shook his head. "I can't afford to be woozy right now."

She crossed her arms. "And how does that compare to how you'll feel tomorrow if you can't sleep tonight?"

"I can sleep through pain, Katara." He tied the bag shut before hefting it back into the saddle. "I've had plenty of practice, after all."

Katara opened her mouth, only to find that she had nothing to say. Instead, she found herself giving a slow nod, accepting his decision. "I'll take first watch."


"Father, please! I only had the Fire Nation's best interests at heart. I'm sorry I spoke out of turn!"

"You will fight for your honor."

He shook with fear. The palms of his hands were slick with sweat. His knees no longer had the strength to hold him up, and he collapsed to the floor of the arena…

No.

No.

He was not going to do this again.

This is wrong.

The thought pushed him to his feet and into a fighting stance. Steadying his legs underneath him, he brought his arms up into the guard position.

"I'm ready to face you."

Ozai smirked.

"Oh, is that so, Zuzu?"

His eyes widened.

He turned…

Pain tore through his body as lightning slammed into his torso. Azula was smirking in triumph… Ozai grinned with glee… Katara was calling out his name…

"Zuko? Zuko!"

He came awake with a gasp, his eyes flying open only to find himself looking straight into Katara's startled blue ones. She lifted her fingers from his arm.

"Your watch," she explained.

"Thanks." He sat up, holding a hand to his head.

Katara took a step back, though she was still looking at him with concern. "Do you want to talk about it?"

He didn't ask how she had deduced his nightmare—there would have been no point in denying it. Instead, he began the motion of shaking his head. "I—"

A low rumble from beneath him interrupted his thoughts. Rather than using a sleeping bag, Zuko had bedded down on Appa's soft flank, much as they'd done when they'd rested outside the wall of Ba Sing Se a day ago, in another lifetime.

The bison had turned to look at him, fixing Zuko with liquid brown eyes. Opening his mouth, Appa let out a low rumble.

"Old memories," Zuko confessed, indicating his scar. "Some more recent ones, too." His hand drifted downward to brush over the bandages wrapped around his torso.

"I see." Katara's voice was quiet, but she did not look on him with pity—for which Zuko was grateful.

She knew the full story. He had told her himself, when they'd rested at his family's beach house after her confrontation with Yon Rha. Zuko had figured he owed her that much.

"Why did you help me?" she'd asked. "How is it that you, of all people, knew exactly what I needed?"

He'd stared out at the ocean a long, long time before answering. "The day I left the Fire Nation," he'd said at last, "I couldn't put my old life behind me until I confronted my father."

He'd told her everything, then—the death of his cousin, his father's request and its consequences, the sacrifice of his mother, right up until the day of his scarring and banishment. Through it all, Katara had listened in silence, not saying a word even when he paused for several minutes, letting him speak at his own pace. Even then, she had been surprisingly easy to talk to, silent but attentive, her presence a strength that supported him but somehow managed not to coddle or smother.

When he'd finished, she had simply nodded, and then had taken her turn to stare out to sea. "I guess," she'd said at last, watching the moonlight sparkle over the waves, "we have more in common than I thought."

Now, she stood before him once again, asking him silently if he needed her help, even after everything she had already done—far more than any one person should have been able to.

"I'll be okay." He pushed himself gingerly into a sitting position, allowing Katara to pull him up the rest of the way. Once he was on his feet, she handed him a bundle of cloth.

It was his shirt, mended.

"I needed something to do with my hands." There was no need for her to say out loud what had already passed, silently, between them: she had been trying not to think.

"Thanks." He pulled the shirt on, allowing Katara to help ease it over his shoulders when the motion pulled at the still-tender skin of his burn. As soon as he was properly clothed, he turned to walk a decent distance away from Appa so that she could sleep in peace. After a few steps, however, he stopped and turned around.

"Can I—" Zuko took a deep breath. He was not good at this, never had been, but he needed to at least make the effort. "I mean—is there anything you need?"

Katara gave him a small, forced smile. "I don't think so." Nevertheless, her eyes softened in gratitude. "But thank you." Not bothering with a sleeping bag, she settled down on Appa's side, right next to the spot where he had slept. "Goodnight, Zuko."

"Goodnight, Katara."

Thankfully, Azula seemed to have fallen asleep by this point as well; he didn't know whether he'd be able to handle her right at this moment on top of everything else. Standing next to the saddle where they'd placed her to keep her from the damp, Zuko looked down at his sister, and wondered how it had come to this.

He couldn't even seem to grieve.

Aang had been his friend as well—the first real friend he'd ever had. While Mai and Ty Lee had certainly seemed to enjoy his company, and he theirs, it had always been with the uneasy understanding that they were Azula's companions, not his, and no matter how much they may have liked each other, he'd always wondered whether either one of them would even hesitate to take his life if his sister ordered them to.

…no, that wasn't true. He'd gotten his answer—back at the Boiling Rock.

Now, Mai's fate was unknown, but given that she had betrayed Azula to save his life, Zuko knew to expect the worst. Aang, who'd forgiven and befriended him after Zuko had spent months thinking only of his capture, was dead. Three more friends had last been seen heading to the same battlefield where Aang had fallen. Uncle would also have been in the thick of the fighting, and he did not think that Ozai would take the risk of leaving such a powerful man alone. If the two of them fought…

Even if I could beat the Fire Lord… and I don't know that I could…

Zuko buried his face in his hands. Uncle's chances weren't looking good either.

At the moment, he only had a single friend in the world, and that was Katara. Everyone else he could ever say he had loved was likely to be dead or worse—yet the only thing he could seem to feel was numb.

Maybe that's why, he thought. Maybe everything that happened is so horrible that I don't want to let myself feel.

Sighing, Zuko settled himself in the saddle, keeping his eyes on Azula, and pretended he couldn't hear Katara crying herself to sleep.


Sunrise, as always, brought with it a feeling of revitalization. Today, however, that feeling was overwhelmed by the question of what they were going to do next.

Unfortunately, Zuko was rather forcibly reminded of that question by something else the sunrise brought.

Azula blinked open her eyes as soon as the light touched her face. For a moment, she looked around groggily, as if unsure of where she was. The instant she laid eyes on Zuko, however, she sat bolt upright—only to come crashing back down into the saddle as her bonds restricted her from moving further. From the awkward position on her side with one cheek pressed into the surface of the saddle, she shot Zuko a venomous glare.

"Good morning, brother."

"Good morning, Azula." Even if he could have found it in himself to return her hostility, he just didn't have the energy anymore.

For a few minutes, she jerked her arms and strained her legs, but thankfully Katara's boast proved true: no matter how valiantly Azula thrashed, the knots held. Eventually even she was forced to give up, panting, the loose strands of her badly-shorn hair plastered to her sweat-stained face. She had ended up on her back, her bound hands trapped beneath her and forcing her body to arch in a way that looked incredibly uncomfortable. Her breath came in choking gasps, and as Zuko watched tears started to spill once again down her face.

This was the same girl who had always outpaced him in everything that was worth anything to their father, the same girl Zuko had bitterly envied from the moment he'd first understood the meaning of "not good enough." Now, sitting here and watching what she had become, Zuko could only feel pity.

Banishing me was the best thing Ozai ever did for me, he realized. Had he given me his approval like I'd always wanted, there's a good chance I would have become this.

Unable to stand it any longer, he pushed himself toward her with the intention of moving her to a better position—but Azula jerked away as soon as he got within arm's reach.

"Don't touch me!"

"Azula, I'm trying to help!"

"I don't need any help from you!" Squirming away from him, she managed to get into a position on her side with her back against the edge of the saddle.

"Okay." Spreading his hands at his sides, he rocked back on his heels, putting himself at a more respectful distance. "What can I do to make you more comfortable?"

For a few seconds, she blinked at him, as if he'd addressed her in one of the made-up languages they'd used to invent as children. Then, however, she threw back her head and laughed, a loud uncontrolled cackle that sent birds scattering from the treetops in alarm. A low groan emanated from Katara in reaction and she rolled over in her sleep, pressing her face deeper into Appa's fur. Zuko winced; he had been hoping that she would have enough time to get a decent amount of sleep.

"Oh, Zuzu," Azula said when she had finally calmed down enough to speak. "Are you trying to tell me you actually care?" When he did not answer, she continued, "You know, you could untie my hands. Do you have any idea how much these things chafe?"

He didn't. Zuko had never been tied up for any length of time, at least not with the kind of ropes Katara had used—yet he also knew that they didn't have any other options, not where Azula was concerned. "Azula, you know we can't do that." He let out a sigh. "They wouldn't chafe so much if you didn't struggle so much." Nevertheless, he made a mental note to have Katara take a look at Azula's wrists once she woke up all the way.

"Hmph. That's easy for you to say." Gritting her teeth, she pushed herself up into a sitting position, bracing her back against the side of the saddle. "You're not the one who'll have to be spoon fed every meal. I'm getting cramps because I can't move. How am I supposed to go to the bathroom like this?" she demanded, looking as if she were about to cry again.

"Um…" Heat rose to his face. That was yet another thing he hadn't thought of—but he was going to have to think about it, soon. He was going to have to ask Katara if she had any ideas—

"Why did you take me with you?" Once again, Azula's voice broke into his thoughts, her face contorting in the same way that it had on the cusp of her breakdown. "Why couldn't you have left me there?"

He looked at her, shocked, but could see nothing but mad rage in her eyes—rage, and confusion. "Azula, what do you think would have happened to you when Father got back?"

In response, her eyes narrowed. "Father trusted me to run the Fire Nation in his absence," she spat. "I'm not you."

"No," he said softly, looking away from her. "You're not." Several minutes passed in silence, the only sound Azula's ragged breathing.

"Azula," he said at last. "I think that what Father's done to you is worse than anything he ever did to me." Looking back, he met her eyes once more, to see that they were widened in shock. "At least he never pretended to love me." A harsh laugh escaped from his lips, and Zuko shook his head in an attempt to clear it. Azula had grown unusually quiet, and he took advantage of the silence, moving slowly closer so that he could look her straight in the eyes. "You were defeated," he said softly, "by a waterbender, at the height of your power. Do you really think Father would have let that go?"

There was no answer—but her lack of a retort gave Zuko hope that maybe, just maybe, he was getting through to her. Leaning forward, he watched his sister closely for any reaction—

He was so focused on Azula's face that when she moved, he had no chance to defend. The only warning he had was in the moment in which her confusion gave way to a snarl that twisted her mouth into a rather ugly expression, and before he could so much as blink she had braced her back against the side of the saddle and kicked out with both legs.

Pain exploded in his midsection as his sister's feet slammed into the wound she'd inflicted less than a day ago. A choked gasp escaped from his mouth as he was thrown over the side of the saddle, without enough breath in his lungs even to cry out. Dirt slammed into his face, filling his mouth with grit before he finally stilled. Almost of its own accord, his body curled into itself, desperate to protect his already-burned flesh from enduring even further punishment—

"Zuko? ZUKO!" Hands grabbed his shoulder, turning from his side to his back; he let out a groan, instinctively trying to curl back into his protective ball, but Katara's grip was surprisingly strong, and she held him down firmly until he gave up the fight, his body going limp on the hard ground.

Forcing his eyes open, he finally managed to focus on Katara above him, her own eyes wide in a near-panic. Already she was undoing his shirt, easing the cloth gently from his shoulders to get a better look at his injuries.

"I'll be okay," he managed, though his voice came out through clenched teeth. She ignored him, of course, instead coating her hand with healing water and pressing it gently against his midsection.

A moment later, she let out a sigh of relief. "It's mostly superficial." The water flowed gracefully from her hand back into her waterskin, and then that same hand was beneath his back, propping him into a sitting position. "You were about due for another healing session anyway." Looking down, Zuko saw that the bandages had begun to unravel thanks to the force with which he'd been hit, and were rapidly being soaked through by the clear fluid that was now seeping from his wound; he was unable to hold back a gasp of pain as Katara peeled back the gauze. "What happened?"

With the burn revealed, Zuko could see that the already-tender skin had been torn anew, and that a multitude of blisters had broken open and were beginning to ooze. "Azula," he said shortly. When the last of the bandages had come off, Katara eased him onto his back once more, and he forced himself to relax as she gloved her hands with water once again and gently covered the burn. "I let my guard down."

"Oh, Zuko…"

"You don't need to tell me what an idiot I am." He began to breathe easier as the pleasant cooling sensation of the water worked beneath his skin, seeking out the worst injury and repairing it. "Azula already took care of that part."

"No, I meant…" Katara glanced uneasily back to the saddle, before leaning in closer and lowering her voice. "How much longer do you plan to keep her with us? She's dangerous."

"She'll be a lot more dangerous to a lot more people if we let her go," Zuko pointed out. "I couldn't just leave her there, Katara. I couldn't." His last words ended on a whisper.

"I know." Hearing the pained resignation in her voice, Zuko looked back up at her and saw to his surprise that she really did understand. Mentally, he kicked himself—how could he have forgotten that he was not the only one here who had a sibling?

"Katara, I—" The rest of the words, however, died in his throat. All this time, Katara had been the one to support him, taking some of his weight to help him walk, watching his sister, tending his wounds—she had even fixed his shirt. How could he possibly offer comfort, when he was the one sprawled in a painful heap on the ground with her salving his burns?

"There." Before he could figure out the right words, Katara's voice broke into his thoughts. "How does that feel?"

"Better." Placing his palms against the ground, he pushed himself into a sitting position. "A lot better, actually." Movement was suddenly easier and much less painful, and the searing heat of the burns had decreased considerably. "Thank you, Katara." He remembered what she'd said the night before about thanking her, her tearful admonishment that he'd saved her life as well, but at this moment, given all they'd gone through together and all they were facing for the foreseeable future, Zuko suddenly felt that he'd never be able to thank her enough.

The only response she gave was a small shake of her head, smiling in that gentle way that seemed to be hers alone. "You're going to need at least a few more healing sessions." She handed him one end of a fresh bandage, which he held to his side while she wrapped the rest around his torso, covering the burn once more. "Lightning burns need a lot of care." As he pulled his shirt back on she bit her lip slightly, looking away. "You'll… probably have a scar."

In response, Zuko could only shrug. What was one more scar to him, anyway?

A sudden crashing noise drew their attention back to the saddle, where Azula had resumed her thrashing. A series of frustrated screams escaped from her as she redoubled her efforts to loosen the ropes.

"She was complaining about chafing earlier," Zuko remembered to tell Katara. He swallowed. "She also said she needed to go to the bathroom."

Katara didn't look happy to hear either statement, but nevertheless gave a resigned nod. "I'll take care of it," she said. "You feed Appa and get us some breakfast."

"You'll be okay?" No matter how thoroughly she was tied or how closely she was watched, Azula was still dangerous. His encounter with her that morning had proven as much.

"As long as I have water, I'll be fine." Rolling back on her heels, Katara pushed herself to her feet. "I don't intend to let my guard down around her."

"…right." Suitably chastised, Zuko followed suit to see to his share of the morning's chores. Nevertheless, he made sure to keep a close ear on Katara and Azula both, in case his sister got out of hand again.

Sneaking furtive glances over at the two as he used his knife to slice the broad, leafy plants that he knew Appa liked best, he could see that Katara had freed Azula's feet and tied her hands in front of her rather than behind her back, though they still remained securely bound. She then prodded Azula in the direction of the stream, her hand never moving more than a finger's length from the mouth of her waterskin. Then, they were out of sight behind a clump of bushes and Zuko could only listen, his entire body tense as he waited to see whether Azula would make a move. Whether she would hurt yet another person he cared about.

"This is humiliating!" Azula's shout rang through the forest, so loud that Appa lifted his head from his meal with a growl. Zuko absently patted his nose, not wanting to deal with an agitated ten-ton bison on top of everything else. "Tell me, peasant, haven't you ever heard of privacy?"

"You'll earn the right to privacy when I trust you enough to turn my back on you." Katara sounded so tired, and Zuko felt guilt churn in the pit of his stomach. "Right now, that doesn't look like it's going to happen for a very long time."

The rest of their conversation consisted of more petty bickering in this vein, and not once did Katara's voice take on a tone of urgency or the sounds of battle erupt from behind the bushes. Nevertheless, relief welled through him when they finally stepped back into visibility, both whole and unharmed. Azula's face was flushed with humiliation, tears welling in her eyes, but she wouldn't look at either Katara or Zuko, instead keeping her proud gaze fixed on the ground.

"Zuko." Katara caught his eye as she pushed Azula back toward the saddle. "I need your help."

"Help" in this case turned out to mean restraining Azula, keeping her in a submission hold while Katara first pressed healing water to her raw and bleeding wrists, then wrapped them with gauze to prevent further chafing. Then, and only then, did they bind Azula's hands behind her back once again, ignoring the princess's insults in the process. Zuko even attempted to give her some food, but she responded by spitting fire at him, and he was forced to give up once more, instead joining Katara where she was running a brush listlessly through Appa's fur. Without a word, he passed her the bread and jerky that Azula had refused, along with the handful of edible berries he'd managed to forage along the riverside.

"Thanks." They sat down together against Appa's side, taking comfort from his familiar warmth while Katara ate.

"Actually, I was about to thank you." Zuko let out a sigh. "You could have killed Azula back at the palace, but you didn't. No one would have blamed you. Not even me."

The last sentence came out in a mere whisper, and Zuko found himself staring at his hands in his lap. It was true, he realized—Azula had done so much evil and caused so much pain, not only to him but to countless others as well. There were so many people in the world, Katara included, who had every right to want her dead.

A gentle hand came to rest on his shoulder, but he did not raise his head. "You might not have blamed me," Katara said softly, "but you wouldn't have been okay with it either."

"No." He turned to look back in the direction of the saddle, from which bursts of blue flame were now shooting into the sky in between screams of rage. "No, I guess I wouldn't have."

"I'm not a killer, Zuko." She set aside what remained of her breakfast, half-eaten. "I couldn't even finish off Yon Rha, and he murdered my mother. I'm not going to kill Azula."

"You didn't have to make her comfortable either. You went to a lot of trouble to help me with that, and it wasn't even your responsibility. Thank you."

"I understand why you're doing it." Her grip on his shoulder tightened. "Azula's hurt me, she's hurt you and she's hurt people we care about, but she's still your sister, and f-family has to look out for one another, and—"

Zuko couldn't have said when or how it happened, or who moved first. All he knew was that suddenly, they were in each other's arms, one of his hands buried in her hair and the other holding snugly to her waist, her arms wrapped around his midsection in turn as though clinging to a lifeline. Katara's entire body shook, her face pressed into his shoulder, and already Zuko could feel a spot of dampness spreading through the cloth of his shirt, but his own tears still would not come.

He couldn't even reassure her.

What was he supposed to say? 'It's okay'? It obviously wasn't. 'I'm sure that they're safe'? Almost everyone either of them had known and loved had last been seen rushing into a war zone, and at least one of their friends was confirmed dead. 'We'll figure something out'? They had no resources, no allies, no Avatar, and he was a wanted fugitive. 'There's still hope'? There wasn't. The only hope they had left was of surviving to see another sunrise.

What would Uncle say?

"We can't… we can't give in to despair." It was essential for him to get this right. No half-hearted impersonations, no silver sandwiches. He squeezed his eyes shut. "Hope is… hope is something you have to give yourself. We can make it, as long as we keep up our inner strength."

Katara sniffled. "Do you really believe that?"

He tightened his grip, pulling her closer. In his memory, he could almost feel a pair of warm, strong hands grasping his own shoulders, always supporting him when he needed it no matter how many times he had denied that need. "Uncle said something like that," he murmured. "I didn't understand, at the time. Now, I think I understand a little better."

"Yes." When she pulled away from him, he let her go, watching her wipe her eyes and wondering whether it was good or bad that he didn't need to do the same. "You're right. We can give ourselves hope. We need to find out what happened to the others." Without any more discussion, as if they had planned it that way all along, they rose from Appa's fur and began packing their meager supplies.

As they repositioned the saddle and took once again to the air, Zuko wondered whether Katara knew that he had needed the comfort and reassurance as much as she had.


"So where are we going again?"

Zuko turned to look back at her from his position at Appa's head. Beads of water clung to his hair and clothing; Katara was bending the moisture in the air into a mist around them, making Appa his own personal cloud in the hopes of obscuring their presence. Hopefully anyone on the ground who happened to look up wouldn't think it too odd that such a small puff of mist was moving independently of its neighbors.

Hopefully.

"Any small town or village," he replied. "It doesn't matter which, as long as it's out of the way. Hopefully I'll be able to get in contact with someone from the Order of the White Lotus."

There was that word again. Hope. Outwardly, she frowned. "Didn't they all go to Ba Sing Se?"

"Everyone who could fight, but there were some non-combatants in the Order as well. If anyone is well-connected enough to help us, it's them."

A long, protracted laugh sounded from behind them. Turning, Katara shot a glare at Azula, who was watching them with the same amused expression she'd worn when Zuko had declared that he would fight her for the throne. "What's so funny?" she demanded.

"Oh, nothing. Little Zuzu is just so hilarious." Zuko's shoulders stiffened at her use of the hated nickname, but he didn't show any other outward reaction, keeping his eyes determinedly on their course.

"You really are pathetic, both of you," Azula continued when neither of them responded. "You peasants never did know when to give up, and Zuzu didn't either. You should have learned by now to know when you're beaten." By this point Katara was clenching her teeth so hard that they hurt in her efforts to avoid reacting, to keep from showing Azula how effective her taunts actually were. Concentrate on the waterbending. Just focus on the bending…

"It's pitiable, really." Azula let out a long-suffering sigh. "It couldn't be more obvious that the Fire Nation is the superior people. It was only a matter of time before we won. Maybe if you'd cooperated, you would have been able to share in our greatness. Instead you'd rather cling to your silly notions of 'independence' and 'identity,' and we have to drag you kicking and screaming into the modern era." In spite of herself, Katara felt her eyebrow twitch. Ignoring the princess was all well and good, but Azula had a knack for getting under people's skin. "Oh, that reminds me," Azula said brightly. "Have I ever told you about that time that poor Zuzu was so upset that I'd started bending before he could even make a spark, and he—"

"Azula." Even Zuko, it seemed, could only hold out for so long. "What do you hope to accomplish by doing this?" Annoyance and anger were notably absent from his voice. Now, he only sounded tired.

"Oh, nothing." Azula spoke as casually as if he were a servant who'd offered her tea. "I was just hoping to share some old memories with my darling brother." She smirked pointedly in Katara's direction. "After all, there's no telling when we'll next be… separated."

Moving was not a conscious action. The only thing Katara knew was that all at once, she'd broken her stance, strode over to Azula and grasped the edges of her chestplate, dragging her up so that their noses were mere inches apart. "Say. That. Again." Her voice came out in a deadly whisper.

Azula's only response was to smirk in her face.

"Katara!" Zuko had also risen from his position, his hand reaching out as though prepared to physically drag them apart, his eyes wide with panic. That Azula had finally managed to get to her. That she was letting their cover blow away. That she might hurt his sister…

Rage at the princess was still coursing through her veins, but the genuine fear in Zuko's voice brought her back to a place where she could think and act rationally. Gritting her teeth, she pried her fingers from Azula's armor—the act was akin to letting go of frostbitten metal—and none too gently dropped her back into the saddle.

"Hey! Is this how they treat royalty where you come from, peasant?"

"Shut up. Just… shut up." With a brief sweep of her arms, she renewed their cover before kneeling down to dig into the saddlebags. Zuko continued to watch her apprehensively.

"I'm not going to hurt her," she reassured. Finding an old shirt that was too worn to wear, she tore off a strip of cloth before tying a wide knot in the middle. "I just can't take any more of this."

Zuko visibly relaxed when he figured out what she was doing. Still, he did not take his eyes off of them as Katara made her way back to where she had dropped Azula, none too gently lifted her head, and tied the gag in her mouth. The princess squirmed and made muffled noises of protest, but couldn't otherwise make a sound, and she would not be able to set the gag on fire without burning herself. As Katara resumed her waterbending, she caught Zuko's eye with a look of apology.

Though he did not express any anger, his eyes were downcast as he looked away. They didn't speak again until they had landed.

"This should be close enough," Zuko murmured as they slid from Appa's saddle. Even though there were no other people in sight, he kept his voice low. "We're still a ways away, but there shouldn't be any problems getting there on foot."

"Right." Katara gave a nod as they began covering Appa with as much brush as they could manage. "So what's the plan?"

For a moment, Zuko considered. "I shouldn't show my face in public if I can avoid it," he said at last. "I'd be too easily recognized." Much as she hated it, there wasn't any arguing with that statement.

"One of us needs to keep watch on Azula at all times," he continued, "and since I'm not even sure if this town has what we're looking for, I think that you should go in first."

"Seems reasonable." She brushed a hand over Appa's nose in an effort to calm her nerves. "So what am I looking for, anyway?"

Uneasily, Zuko's eyes flicked up to Azula before he gave a quick jerk of his head. Getting the message, Katara followed him.

"I need you to find any sort of inn or tavern with a Pai Sho table," he whispered as soon as they were out of hearing distance. "If it's anything like the time Uncle got in contact with the White Lotus, there should be someone sitting there waiting for a game."

Katara nodded. "And then?"

"Come back and give me directions. I saw what Uncle did and I'm pretty sure I remember it, but it's kind of hard to explain."

As Katara slipped behind a bush to change into her stolen Fire Nation clothes, she could hear Zuko nervously pacing back and forth. When she emerged, clad in the same scarlet she'd worn up until the day of the invasion (hiding herself), he handed her a small pouch that clinked slightly as it moved.

"Fire Nation money," he explained. "It's not much, but it should get you a meal, and anything else you might need as cover."

"Thank you." She extended her hand in turn. "Could you hold onto this for me until I get back?" Obediently, he held out his hand, and she placed her mother's necklace in his open palm.

Zuko's good eye widened in shock as he realized what it was he held. "Katara… this is… I mean, I stole this from you once."

Ever so slightly, she felt the corner of her mouth lift upward in a smile. "I'm not going to distrust you with that after you took a bolt of lightning for me." Her fingers encircled his, gently pushing them closed. "Keep it safe, okay?"

Eye still wide in disbelief, he slowly pulled away, and as she tied on the Fire Nation choker she had bought—not to replace it, but because she simply felt naked without the familiar gentle weight around her neck—he brought her mother's necklace in to rest next to his heart. "I will."

After that, there was nothing more to say. They held each other's gazes for a moment longer, and then Katara pushed her way through the undergrowth to step out onto the road.

Though a bit dusty, it was in fairly good repair, and as Zuko had said, the walk was not a strenuous one. By the time she reached the town, Katara was not even tired.

She heard the village well before she saw it. As she got closer her ears were assaulted by a barrage of explosions and shouts, and when she got within visual range, she even saw the occasional fire blast streaking up into the sky. What in the world were they—

It hit her like a blow to the stomach. The Fire Nation had won the war. The people in this town were celebrating.

Of their own accord, her feet halted where she stood. I'm in enemy territory, she thought. I'm about to walk right into a town that's busy celebrating the deaths of my friends and family… Tui and La, they're acting like it's some sort of holiday! Her hands clenched into fists at her sides.

No. I… I have to do this. Zuko's counting on me. This is our best chance to find out what happened to Sokka and the others. Slowly, her fists unballed as she forced herself to relax. Squaring her shoulders, Katara took a deep breath and resumed her march with renewed purpose.

No one spared a second glance for her as she strode into the town. Even those sufficiently sober to make note of her dark skin or blue eyes were too caught up in the celebrations to think anything of the single outlier who didn't quite belong. Besides, no one expected a member of the Water Tribe to be found this far inland, or this close to the equator. It was amazing how easy passing became when no one was on the lookout for her specifically.

After a few minutes of aimless wandering and dodging the festivities as best she could without drawing undue attention, Katara managed to locate a tavern. Deciding that this was as good a place to start as any, she ducked inside.

Immediately her stomach rumbled as her nostrils were assaulted by the aroma of roasting meat. Suddenly, she was keenly aware that every meal she'd eaten since they'd fled the capital had consisted of dry bread and jerky, and that she'd only made it through half of her breakfast that morning. Her mouth began to water in a way that would have made her brother proud, and right then and there she decided to make use of the money that Zuko had given her.

Settling herself at a table that was as out of the way as possible, Katara ordered a meal. She never lost sight of her purpose, however, and while she was waiting for her food to arrive, she discreetly scanned the room.

There! Situated in a veil of shadows in the opposite corner of the room, there was a Pai Sho table, and sitting idly behind that table was an old woman. Both table and woman were so unobtrusive that Katara doubted anyone not looking for them specifically would even notice they were there.

"Here you are, Miss." Her train of thought was broken when the waiter set her bowl down in front of her.

"Thanks." Picking up her chopsticks, Katara lifted the noodles to her mouth. By this point she was so hungry it felt as if her stomach had a hole in it, and the needs of her body forced her to give her full concentration to the task at hand, but it gave her none of the pleasure that she normally got out of a good meal. It was just another chore that had to be done.

"Excuse my rudeness, but what is wrong with you?"

"Hm?" Lifting her eyes, Katara saw that the waiter was looking at her with an expression of incredulity.

Curiosity quickly gave way to panic as she frantically tried to figure out what he was talking about. Were her manners really that bad by Fire Nation standards? Did she have an accent that had given her away? Had she failed to pay some form of respect, or honor some long-held custom? They'd never had these sorts of problems when they were traveling in the Fire Nation before!

Instinctively, her hand moved to hover over the cup of scalding hot tea that had come with her meal. Even without her waterskin, there was more than enough water here to fight her way out if she had to, especially with the tricks she had learned from Hama—but Katara would only be able to make a clean escape if she started fighting now, before the waiter brought further attention to whatever it was she had done to give herself away as an outsider.

While she was still wrestling with herself over whether to blow her cover while the going was still relatively good or hope that her disguise had held so that they didn't have to begin their search all over again, the young man spoke again. "Look, I know that this is none of my business, but the Fire Nation won the war yesterday! It's not patriotic to sit around moping on a day like this—people are going to start thinking the wrong things."

The people at the next table over had now started to pay attention as well, and Katara knew that the window for her to safely fight her way out was rapidly closing. The look of genuine concern in the waiter's eyes, however, gave her pause. Unless he was an excellent actor, in which case she was already in serious trouble, he wasn't threatening to turn her in—he was trying to warn her before someone else did.

Maybe she could get out of this without a fight after all.

"I know everyone in the Fire Nation is celebrating." As she spoke, Katara subtly allowed her hand to drift away from the tea. "It's just… my b-boyfriend died yesterday, and my brother and some of my friends were on the airship fleet…" She didn't even have to fake the tears. Unable to speak any longer, she buried her face in her hands.

All around her, there were murmurs of sympathy. "I—I'm sorry," the waiter stammered. "I didn't know."

"Barbarians," another man grumbled. "They'll kill anyone indiscriminately—doesn't matter whose husband or brother or son."

All at once, her grief was overwhelmed by a wave of anger. 'Kill indiscriminately'? She remembered the massacre they'd found in the ruins of the Southern Air Temple, the evidence still there even a hundred years after the fact; remembered her mother's body, cold and unmoving, on the floor of their house. Fortunately, nobody seemed to expect her to reply, giving her the space that she needed as she fought for control under the pretense of sobbing into her hands.

Slowly, the sympathetic murmurings gave way to the ever-present drone of ordinary conversation, and Katara realized with relief that they had decided to let her be. Somehow, she managed to force down the rest of her meal—after the conversation she'd had, even the thought of food repulsed her, but she badly needed whatever nourishment she could get, and had no idea when she'd next have the chance to eat. Nobody gave her a second glance as she made her way back outside—as a matter of fact, it seemed as if the rest of the tavern's patrons were actively avoiding eye contact. When she stepped out into the sunlight, she breathed a sigh of relief.

"Believe it or not, I know how you feel."

Whipping around into a fighting stance, Katara turned to face the source of the voice, her hand moving automatically to where the mouth of her waterskin normally rested—but saw that it was only the waiter who'd served her earlier. He appeared to be on some kind of break.

"My brother died in the war," he continued as though she hadn't been ready to skewer him—the movements of waterbending must have been unknown in this part of the Fire Nation. "I was twelve." In spite of herself, Katara felt sympathy welling up in her, and relaxed her stance. "I know it's not the most patriotic thought, but there are times I wish the war hadn't ended. Then I'd be able to get back at the dirt savages and snow peasants that did it. Only one more year, and I'd have been old enough to enlist." He laughed softly, not in the least bit worried about Katara's clenched fists or narrowed eyes; he seemed to have misread the target of her anger.

She gave a brief nod, hoping to end the conversation quickly; all at once the only thing she could think about was the need to get out of here, now, before she did something that would bring the whole town down on her head. "I'm sorry," she managed.

"So am I." The words carried more than a hint of irony. "I suppose that things aren't all bad, though. At least we can rest assured that their deaths were avenged, even if we couldn't do it ourselves." He gave one last stretch; it seemed that he was about ready to go back inside. "After all, the Avatar is gone, as well as the traitor Iroh."

All at once, Katara went from feeling as if she were about to explode with rage, to feeling as if her insides had turned to ice. "Could you… repeat that?"


Zuko made no effort to hide his relief when she stepped back under the canopy of the trees.

"Katara! You're okay!" He left Appa's side, where he had been absentmindedly sinking his hand into soft fur, and held his hands out to her. One held her waterskin, the other her necklace. "You took so long, I thought…"

"It's okay," she reassured him, forcing out a small smile. "I can take care of myself." In truth, she had walked much more slowly than was strictly necessary all the way back down the dusty road, and her pace had had nothing to do with either weariness or the need to digest her lunch.

"Something's wrong." It wasn't a question.

"I—" She bit her lip. She had rehearsed this moment over and over again on the return trip, and hadn't come to a single conclusion as to what was the right thing to say. There was one thing, however, that she had decided on for sure: he was going to hear this from her, not from some stranger in passing as she had done.

"Zuko, there's something I need to tell you."


Katara absently reached up to pat Appa's head, taking comfort from the bison's familiar warmth—a nervous gesture she had been repeating on and off all afternoon. In truth, there wasn't much else for her to do—she'd given Azula some water and a small amount of food, but had immediately gagged her again after she was finished, not wanting to deal with what the princess would likely say if she were able. Now, the only thing left was to wait and worry.

"Give me fifteen minutes, plus however much time it took you to walk into town and back. If I'm not back by then, you need to g—"

Her crossed arms and intense glare were enough to make Zuko grind to an abrupt halt, and Katara didn't need to speak a single word to get her message across: Don't you dare tell me to run away and leave you behind.

"…then you'll know that something's gone wrong," he amended. Still, it was evident that he hadn't finished, and after a brief moment of hesitation, he held out his hand. "Could you… hold onto this for me?"

"Of course." When she held out her hand in turn, Zuko placed a small dagger lightly into her palm.

"Keep it safe for me, okay?" From the way his voice thickened as he spoke the words, Katara needed no further information to guess the significance of that particular keepsake.

"I will." Her fingers closed around the hilt of the knife, accepting his trust in her as she had once trusted him.

After that, there was nothing more to say. Before leaving, Zuko had donned a light cloak, pulling the hood low over his face, but it was a paper-thin disguise at best. If anyone in that town even glanced at his scar… By the time Katara had opened her mouth to question the wisdom of their plan, however, he was already gone, slipping onto the road behind a small convoy of wagons, and she would not be able to call him back without drawing undue attention to them both.

For possibly the hundredth time in the past half hour, Katara let out a worried sigh. For what felt like the thousandth, she seriously considered tossing their plans to the wind and going in after him. They didn't know that the inhabitants of the town were too drunk or too busy celebrating to notice a supposedly-exiled prince walking right into their midst. Zuko was unarmed, and still wounded; he was in no condition to fight his way out if things went badly—and given the distance to the town, if he did get in some kind of trouble, by the time Katara even realized something was wrong, it would be far too late.

Right now, the only thing stopping her was Azula. Even tied up, the princess was dangerous; Katara didn't know what she might be capable of if left to her own devices, and she didn't much care to find out.

Also, a small voice that sounded like Aang's whispered to her that, even if Azula was as secure as they thought, it would be wrong to leave her, alone and defenseless, by the side of a deserted road with only Appa for company.

Not to mention that she was now the only family Zuko had left…

Katara bit her lip as she recalled the shock on Zuko's face when she'd told him, the wide-eyed stare followed by the slow, wordless shaking of his head in a desperate denial. When she'd tried to reach out to him, he'd turned away and said, flatly, that they had to stick with their plan. All throughout his preparations, however, she'd seen him biting back the pain, trying to find something, anything, to keep his mind occupied so that he wouldn't have to think about what he'd lost.

How many more? she wondered. How many more loved ones are we going to lose before this is over?

The sound of footsteps jerked her out of her thoughts. Immediately dropping her restless pacing, Katara crouched low, one hand hovering over the mouth of her waterskin. Only a few travelers had come down this road during Zuko's absence, and all of them had passed by without taking any notice of her hiding place, but her heart began thundering frantically in her chest every time she heard approaching voices, and no matter how securely she tied Azula, the princess always found a way to start thrashing around in an effort to draw the attention of any passerby. So far, Katara had been lucky: those people who had passed them earlier had all been in groups, and had been making enough noise themselves to drown out Azula's squirming and muffled screams, and she'd been able to relax after with a profound sense of relief that this time, at least, they hadn't been caught.

This time, however, the travelers weren't conversing. Worse yet, they were on foot, rather than employing the Komodo rhinos that seemed to be the Fire Nation's choice beasts of burden. Unless they were both deaf, there was no way they could fail to hear Azula, and no way to mistake her struggles for the foraging of an animal, not at this distance. If they decided to investigate…

"Katara?" The leaves before her parted, and Zuko's face came into view.

It was the most welcome sight she'd seen all day. Dropping her guard, Katara rushed forward and threw her arms around him.

"I was so worried. I'm so glad you got back safely, and—" Looking over his shoulder, Katara caught sight of the other person whose footsteps she'd heard. It was the old woman she'd seen sitting at the Pai Sho table in the tavern where she'd eaten.

"This is Guan Yin," Zuko explained, extracting himself from Katara's embrace. "She says that the Order of the White Lotus will help us as much as they're able."

"I—thank you." Katara gave a deep bow to the woman, who nodded her head in turn, before turning back to Zuko. "Did you explain everything?"

"Yes, on the road."

Guan Yin clasped her hands in front of her. "We can make arrangements for the princess and for your bison, and we will put our every effort into getting information on the fate of your companions."

All at once, Katara's throat seemed to close. Lost for words, she could only bow once again, knowing that the gesture was completely insufficient to convey the depths of her gratitude.


Appa was housed in an old unused barn. "We used to keep our Komodo rhinos here," Guan Yin explained, "before the governor had them seized for military use." No troops were likely to come looking for them here, however, not with the war won and the once-thriving farm left destitute due to the loss of its beasts of burden. It seemed as if the members of the other nations were not the only civilians who were suffering thanks to the warmongering of the Fire Lords.

With that, they were left alone for the night. As soon as Appa's saddle was removed and a liberal amount of hay put in front of him, Zuko excused himself with the explanation that he wanted to speak to Guan Yin. Katara did not ask what he was doing: it was clear enough that he didn't want company. So she preoccupied herself with grooming Appa, running a brush through his matted fur and scrubbing gently in between his toes to clear the mud. She tried not to cry as she recalled her brother's lighthearted complaints over being assigned the same task.

Sokka, where are you? Please, Tui and La. Please let them be okay.

The light in the windows was fading by the time Guan Yin came into the barn with a tray of food.

"Thank you." Katara pulled the tray into her lap, reaching for the chopsticks, but then hesitated at the last second. "Where's Zuko?" He should eat as well, and he hadn't had a healing session since early that morning. At the very least, she would need to change his bandages before they went to sleep.

The old woman let out a sigh. "He wanted to know what information the Order of the White Lotus had as to the fate of General Iroh. He thought that maybe… he mentioned that the Avatar had once lived even when the world thought him dead. The answer I had to give him… was not the one that he'd hoped for."

"I see." No longer hungry, Katara set the tray aside. "Where is he now?"

"There is a sakura tree behind the house. I have been making sure he does not do anything to draw attention, but we are out of the way, and no longer have anything of interest to the Fire Nation military. The risk is low."

Katara took a brief moment to consider. Earlier, Zuko had clearly needed time to himself. Then again, Zuko was also her friend; though she was willing to give him his space if he needed it, Katara simply couldn't stand by and watch him hurt without at least checking. Brushing bits of straw from her clothes, she pushed herself to her feet. "Can you take me to him?"

Guan Yin inclined her head. "Follow me."

The path she pointed out led Katara from the barn to the back of the house without ever coming within sight of the road. Guan Yin retreated back inside immediately after showing her where to go, and Katara knew that she would not interfere in whatever happened next.

Incense stung her nose well before she came into view. As she made her way around a clump of bushes, however, Katara could clearly see the old sakura tree, its blossoms long since fallen, as well as the figure that was hunched at its base.

"Zuko?" she whispered, but received no response. The way he was kneeling, it looked as if he never intended to move again.

Slowly, Katara began her approach once more. Though she was making no effort to conceal her footsteps, he did not turn around.

She came to a stop a few paces behind him. Looking over his shoulder, Katara could see the sticks of incense that she had smelled, now burned down to nubs; in between them, propped up against some rocks, was a portrait of a man she had met only thrice and spoken to even more rarely, but she recognized him immediately. General Iroh.

"Zuko." Closing the rest of the distance, she knelt at his side. Still he made no acknowledgement of her presence, but continued to stare at the ground, his shoulders slumped listlessly, nothing like the fiery prince who had fought her, insulted her, and eventually befriended her, but through it all had never, ever given up. Katara hated seeing him like this.

Instinctively, she reached out a hand, but then drew back, not sure whether she would be overstepping any boundaries. Zuko might have let her hug him before, but it had always been on her initiative. This time, Katara wasn't sure whether he would want any comfort, or whether it would even matter if coming from her.

The memory of him approaching her while she slumped despairing on the ground was what made up her mind. Slowly, always prepared to pull back if the gesture proved unwelcome, Katara reached out again, letting her hand come to rest lightly against his shoulder.

Though he shuddered slightly at her touch, Zuko did not pull away or order her to leave. A few seconds later, he trembled again, and this time the shaking worked its way through his entire body.

At this, Katara sank to her knees beside him and wrapped her arm fully around his back, squeezing gently. The first tremor was followed by another, and another, his every breath coming in a choking gasp.

She wasn't sure how long they knelt there, but stars were visible overhead by the time his breathing had evened out, the choking sobs giving way to harsh wheezes before slowly returning to a normal cadence. By the time Katara had managed to coax him inside for food and medical attention, the lights had gone off inside the house.

It wasn't until they were getting ready to bed down for the night that Zuko spoke again.

"At least I got to tell him."

Katara did not ask what.


A/N: Wow that is a personal record-setter for chapter length. Before anyone goes anywhere, though, I have a bit of an announcement:

This story was inspired by an album. As such, I'm going to try something a bit new, and host a contest to see who can guess what it was. The prize is a oneshot of your choice (within reasonable limits), written by me, for anyone who manages to guess the correct answer prior to the release of Chapter 9 (whose title is the same as the song that inspired it).

The Rules:

-One guess per person. Responses with multiple guesses will be automatically disqualified.

-Submit all entries under the subject heading "Ripples in the Water Contest." Do not leave your guess in a review. I'm trying to keep this fun for everyone, and I don't want one person spoiling things for everyone else. I would strongly prefer people to submit by PM, but for those of you who don't have an account on FFNet, I can also be contacted at lazy888 at mail dot com.

-If you are submitting by email, use plain text only. Understand that, for reasons of security, I cannot accept emails that contain attachments, nor can I open any links. Emails with attachments will be deleted unopened.

-You are allowed to change your entry an unlimited number of times. If you initially submitted one guess but decide later on that another album works better, I will allow you to change your answer, but your latest answer is the only one that will be counted. If you got it right the first time but then changed your mind, you're out of luck.

The only hint I'm giving at this time is that the album in question has a total of 13 songs, and no bonus tracks. I also listen to a huge variety of music - the only genres I actively dislike are country and rap, so if the genre exists (and isn't country or rap), odds are you've got a shot.