Katara gasped, half in pain and half in anger, as a thorn drew a red line across her arm. Without thinking, she bent the water from her pouch, healing the cut by instinct. It had been a long time since she had bled for a long period of time. One of the perks of being a healer, she guessed.
"Zuko," she cried out in exasperation, "we're lost." The Fire Prince refused to accept the simple truth. They had been walking all day.
"How can we be lost?" It was more a statement than a question, "we were right behind them!"
"I don't know." Katara sighed as she pulled a branch away from her, "But this place doesn't even smell the same." Zuko paused, smelling the air for the first time.
"It smells . . . Wet."
"But we're in the middle of a drought." Even as Katara said it she knew it wasn't true. She could feel the water flowing in the dirt beneath her feat, and in every branch that slapped her face. "At least, we were in the middle of a drought."
"What are you trying to say?"
"I feel crazy for saying this, but do you remember when we first lost track of everyone?" Katara had been thinking all day as they walked.
"Of course I do-" Zuko stopped and rested his fingers on his chin in thought. "It was . . . "
"Exactly." Katara started walking again, mostly because she wanted to feel like she was doing something. "The memory of losing everyone is all a haze. I think I remember Aang saying something similar happened to him when he went to the spirit world."
"You're trying to say we're in the spirit world?" Zuko would have laughed at any other time.
"No, that wouldn't make any sense. Only the avatar can travel between worlds." Katara sighed, and looked back at Zuko. He seemed lost in thought.
She trudged forward, with each step becoming angrier at the trees. For some reason, they seemed like they wanted to keep her from walking forward. She briefly thought of the swamp tribe, before discarding that thought as ridiculous. She was visibly happy when the trees began to thin.
"My uncle," Zuko's sudden voice was sudden in the silence of the forest, "used to have a telescope. When we spent months at sea, he'd stare up at the stars. I asked him once why he spent so much time looking at something so useless," Zuko chuckled, "needless to say I earned a lecture with that remark. He said 'we can learn a lot about the heavens,' and pointed to a bright star, 'as many have already learned that that is not a star, a sun, or a moon. But rather, another planet.'"
"A planet?"
"He thought that there was more in this universe than just one world. I wrote it off as an old man's rambling, but what if he's right?" Zuko glanced up at the sky, but the view was blocked by leaves. "What if we traveled to another world?"
"That. . ." Katara thought for a moment, before realization dawned on her, "Do you feel different?"
"Different how?"
"I don't know. . . Stronger?" Katara tapped her foot to the ground and felt the water within it. Is that what Toph always felt? "Bending-wise. Do you feel different?"
Zuko's eyes widened. He held out his palm, willing a flame to appear. Katara had seen the trick before, a habit Zuko had when he was bored. This time, though, the flame leapt high, licking the canopy of leaves before he called it back down.
". . . Yes. Much more. I'd say that there's either a full moon and comet above us, or we figured something out, at least."
"Why, though?" Katara stopped as she came into a small clearing. She was not expecting to see anyone else.
"Who're you?" A strange stick of a girl whirled around, holding a think blade. Her hair was cut short, but there was no hiding a girl's voice.
"I'm Katara." Katara said simply, "This is Zuko." The girl's eyes narrowed.
"Who do you fight for?" The girl asked after studying their clothes. She seemed confused.
"Who do we fight for?" Katara was appalled. The only one in doubt should be Zuko, but even so, it should be obvious enough who they fight against.
"Yes. Who do you fight for. You're wearing Tully colors." The girl pointed the sword at Katara, shifting her stance so her side was facing her opponent. "And you're wearing Lannister." She shifted again, pointing at Zuko. A man moaned, and Katara noticed him for the first time.
"What happened to him?" She asked, her healer's instinct taking over.
"He got cut." The girls stated simply, not moving out of her fighting stance.
"He's going to die if he doesn't get treatment!"
"I already poured boiling wine over his cuts." The girl said it as if that was the only thing that could be done.
"That's barbaric!" Katara stepped forward, and the girl stayed her ground. Katara stepped back, confused at the girls actions. The girl was so much like Toph, but there was something more.
"Calm down," Zuko said, and the girl switched her focus to him. She was obviously concerned about fighting two people, but she hid it well. It was only when she looked at Zuko's face for the first time that her guard wavered. She glanced at the man behind her, then regained her composure.
"Why should I?"
"Because I'm a healer," Katara held her hands out, "and I can save him. But only if you let me."
The girl thought for a moment, before lowering her sword. She didn't put it away, but it was enough for Katara to get the message. "Thank you," Katara murmured as she rushed past.
As Katara bent the water, the girl gasped, and then quickly hid hit by feigning hiccups.
"Are you a sorcerer?" The scrawny girl asked, unable to keep her curiosity from showing.
"Do you have a name?" Zuko replied. He leaned against a tree as he watched Katara work. It was always a strange sight, to see people get better instantly. For some reason, watching people get hurt instantly wasn't.
"I'm. . . Arya," She was hesitant for some reason.
"And him? Your father?" Arya seemed repulsed by the thought.
"Not my father. You don't know him?"
"Should I?" Zuko looked more closely at the man's face. He passed over the scarred face slowly, and for a moment his own scars itched. He ignored the feeling.
"He's the Hound." Arya stated, as if that should make Zuko recognize the strange man in metal.
"Sorry," Zuko shook his head, "we're not exactly from around here." Arya laughed.
"Well that much was obvious from how you're dressed."
"What?" Zuko was somehow embarrassed by her.
"No one travels these days without a sword."
"Why not?"
"You're kidding, right?" Arya sighed and sat down, poking the fire absentmindedly with a stick. At some point, she had stuck the sword in her belt. Zuko took that as a good sign.
Katara stood up, her work done. "He should be waking up soon." She paused for a moment, "if I had not been here, he would have died." The simple idea of death shocked Zuko to silence. It seemed to have the same effect on Katara, though Arya shrugged it off.
". . . Thank you." Arya said after a while.
The camp fell into a comfortable silence. Katara wandered off to the river to catch fish while Zuko cared for the fire. Arya cared for one of the horses, though she gave the second a wide girth.
"What are you looking at?" Arya snapped at Zuko when she caught him staring for the second time.
"What . . . is that thing?" Zuko gestured to Stranger.
"The horse?"
"A horse?" Zuko furrowed his brow, or at least the half that was unmarred. "Just a horse?" Arya gave him a strange look, giving Zuko all the answer he needed, "This world is strange."
"What's strange?" Katara asked as she came back into the clearing, a string of fish in her hand.
"That's a horse."
"Just a horse? Like the Earth King's bear?"
"Yeah."
"Weird." Katara started to put the fish around the fire.
"What are you doing?" Arya chose now to intervene in the strange conversation. They were making less sense than Sansa's knight stories.
"Cooking the fish, unless you want to eat it raw?" Katara somehow managed to stop herself from scoffing at the girl that must have been four years younger.
"You have to gut it first."
"Gut it?" Katara's scorn turned to disgust, "Why would you do that?"
"So you don't get sick! Just go away, I'll do it. Honestly, even Sansa knows you have to gut a fish, though she'd never do it." Arya seemed to have had enough, and Katara bit back the remark she would have used against Toph. Instead, she moved and settled in next to Zuko, watching the scarred man's easy breathing.
It was Zuko that finally broke the silence. "Who is he?"
"I told you already. He's the Hound." Arya rolled her eyes.
"That's not even a name!" Katara had been fuming for a while. She was usually the one in charge whenever they made camp.
"It's the one he's known by." Arya shrugged, she seemed too tired to be angry. Or too confused?
"How did he get his scar?" The Hound seemed to move at that, as if people talking about him was enough to wake him from his slumber.
"You would have to ask San-"
"Sansa!" The Hound woke up, panting. He wasted no time in taking in his surroundings, and within seconds he was standing, sword in hand. Arya made no move to stop him, she simply continued to stare into the flames, contemplating the events of the day.
"Put your sword away." Zuko said, and the Hound turned his attention to him first.
"Show me your face." The Hound's voice was raspy from lack of water, "I like to see the face of the people I kill."
"Kill? We just saved your life!" Katara was beginning to hate this world, whereas Zuko seemed to accept his fate. He pulled his hood down, and the Hound stared into a face just as scarred as his own for the first time in his life. The shock of it made him lower the sword, made him see sense.
"I'm . . . Sorry." The word seemed foreign on his tongue.
"They're magical," Arya looked up from the flames, confusion written on her face.
"I think we all need to sit down and . . . talk . . ." Katara said after the silence had stretched on too long. "I'll start. My names Katara, and I'm a water bender from the South Pole." She seemed proud that she had done something to make this less confusing.
"What's a water bender?" Arya asked as the Hound sat down silently, brooding on some matter.
"I . . ." Katara struggled, never having had to explain this before, "I can control the flow of water." She settled on the vague description, "I can use it to heal, as well." As emphasis, she drew the water out of her bending pouch and twirled it in the air. The movement seemed to mesmerize the Hound.
"Can I learn?" Arya got excited, hoping she could use such a power to make it to the Wall, and to Jon.
"It's a power you have to be born with," Zuko said, "I'm Zuko from the Fire Nation, exiled for defying my father." Zuko stated simply, earning himself a strange look from Katara. No speech on being an exiled prince? Zuko changed quickly.
"Zuko. . ." Katara trailed off.
"What? Do you want me to rant about how I'll recover the throne that I was exiled from?" Zuko glared out of the corner of his good eye, "How can I get to a throne that doesn't seem to exist in this world at all? How will we even get back? Aang's the only person who should be able to travel to the spirit world, and even he's never gone to another world entirely."
"A nation of fire." The Hound muttered to himself, "It sounds a lot like hell to me."
"It's a beautiful country," Katara tried to ignore Zuko's rant, but it was obvious that what he said was getting to her, "Aang, Toph, Sokka, Zuko and I. . ." She trailed off again, and looked down. Tears welled up in her eyes, and finding herself in what was quite possibly the least sympathetic company, continued on, "We were all traveling together . . . Zuko and I were cut off when Sokka took a sharp turn . . . We never caught back up with them. . ." The tears were flowing down her cheeks now, her voice dangerously close to breaking. "That's when we met you."
"Sounds like you've angered the gods. New or old, though, I've never heard them do anything like that before." Arya shrugged and picked up a fish, handing it to Katara who gave a nod of thanks. "If it helps any, you're in Westoros right now, in the Seven Kingdoms." Katara handed out the rest of the fish, the Hound tore into his with the vigor of a man that had just been on the cusp of death.
"What's your story, boy?" The Hound said between mouthfuls.
"I just told you-"
"Not where you're from, how you got the scar. Seven Hells, I'll even tell you how I got mine." The Hound seemed drunk, somehow. He's been near death a hundred time, but this time seemed different to him. . . He felt like he had a direction now. Unfortunately, he'd been running in the wrong direction. "My brother shoved my face in a hot bed of coals for playing with his toy knight." He actually laughed at that, with some strange sense of humor.
"I defied my father openly at a war council. He challenged me to a fire-bending duel, and I refused." Zuko's face was calm, he'd relived the memory so often it no longer hurt to think about. "I couldn't bring myself to fight my own father, and he punished me by branding my cowardice on my face for all to see. Then he cast me out, leaving the throne open for my younger, crueler sister." He locked eyes with the hound, "Brother or father, which do you think is worse?"
That only seemed to make the Hound laugh more, and Arya seemed to back away in fear, "Fuck that. Fuck your father, fuck my brother, may they burn in the seven hells forever. I'll send my brother there personally, but first I'll play your little game." Sandor laughed, truly insane, "I'm Sandor Clegane, once a guard to the King until they set the city on fire. I left, and picked up this little runt on the way up north." He looked to Arya, signaling that it was her turn to tell her story. She sighed before beginning.
"I'm Arya of house Stark. That's it." She glared at the hound, her small amount of defiance, which made him laugh all the more.
"We'll camp here, I suppose. It's getting dark, we can start off again in the morning. If you two would like to keep traveling with us you're welcome to. We're going south. I forgot something back in the city." Arya was about to make a complaint, but one look at the Hound's face made the argument shrivel away.
The four made an uncomfortable camp before falling into a deep sleep, the day's events weighing them down.