Avatar the Last Airbender: Hundred

A/N: I noticed that each segment is reading like a drabble, which I abhor, so I do apologize to the readers that wish for longer segments. Sadly, that isn't how this story is set up so it seems the mini-segments (no longer to be referred to as drabbles) will continue. It looks like there will be four Arcs total for this story, if I broke it up any more the Arcs would be even shorter and I wanted them to be a decent reading length.

I also realized that any smart person could tell the pairing so I posted it.

Enjoy!

Arc II

And who's to say it's wrong
And who's to say that it's not right
Where we should be for now

The Frey: Hundred

Three years after the start of the civil war he returned to the capital to bury the man who had been the closest he had ever had to a father. The Dragon of the West had died at the age of 69, rather young when the two previous generations of their family had led long lives. Yet after he had reclaimed Ba Sing Se with the secret society once again in hiding the life he had been holding onto for so long finally left him. There was one last letter written to the nephew who had replaced his lost son, praising him for his accomplishments and not to be sad at his passing for he was ready to join his son and wife in the spirit world where he could drink tea and play Pai Sho for eternity.

The funeral was large; the Palace gates open to let everyone who wanted to pay their respects to be there. The friends the Dragon had made in his journeys were all present, dressed as warriors to show their respect to the man who had been able to teach all of them something. Long after the civilians wandered away with wet faces and shallow breaths, a rather large contingent of people continued to stand and watch the fire burn until it finally died down, leaving nothing behind of one of the greatest firebending masters but ashes.

The Fire Sages who had conducted the funeral knew their orders well. They would gather the ashes and separate them into small vials to be carried around the world by those the Dragon had held most dear. It would be their decision where to spread the ashes, where they themselves would scatter that part of him that had touched their souls. It was an uncommon request - most ashes were left to sit in jars in a chamber with nothing but a plaque to say who that person had been. Yet everyone agreed this was the best idea, that it made sense he would want this.

After all, why sit in a room when you could cover the whole world?

It was dark when they finally meet seven years after the sightings began. He is neither frightened nor scared by the presence, but he is surprised at who he finds behind the person that was slowly becoming a legend in his nation.

"You?"

"Yes." No explanation, just a statement that seemed oddly fitting.

"Why?" He had to ask.

"You're blood is on my hands. Until I repay you, I will continue." Had their conviction always been this strong? He wasn't sure - it had been too long since they last talked.

"You've saved my life countless times, is that not enough?"

"Not yet."

"When?"

"I don't know."

He pauses, staring at the moving shadow in his office before leaning forward.

"What if I order you to leave?"

"I'm here to protect your life."

"My country is my life." It was true, without his country he feared he would die.

"I know."

"If you protect that, you'll be protecting me." He wanted this new war to stop. Stop one, start another is not how history should run.

"I have protected your country."

"My men thank you, I thank you." Images of scared men with their faces covered in soot return to him, as well as the faces of soldiers that probably would not be alive today if they had not interfered.

"I'm not asking for a thank you."

"No, you're not."

…

"Will you serve me?"

"My life is yours."

She has become nearly blind in her right eye.

The wound didn't bother her, nor does the fact that she walks with a limp from having her left kneecap nearly shattered. Bone doesn't heal easily and one that is fractured in several places from a rogue piece of shrapnel almost not at all. She is thankful though, because she can walk and still run, even if it is not for a long time. Then again, she had stopped hiding years ago and had stopped running long before that.

She covers her eye these days. The embers that had destroyed her sight made the eye sensitive to light as it lost the ability to adjust and threw off her aim while fighting. It took her months and her men a few serious injuries before she returned to proper form, but she would not let such a wound stop her. If a blind girl can become the greatest earthbender to live, only being able to see with one eye is no excuse for her. It is her knee that is her weakness, but her men are loyal and she learns not to get close to her enemies to avoid providing them a way to win.

She was ranked as a general a year ago, the first from another nation to ever gain a military rank in the Fire Nation. Part of it was from her actions as the Red Spirit, the countless times she had saved the Fire Lord and the men he holds so dear to his heart. Not many knew she had been the spirit those lonely years and she was grateful. Her men knew, so when she would disappear for a few weeks and return with more rumors of people appearing with words written in blood and faces covered in soot they would follow the orders left to them. It was getting harder to do, though, and she feared she was becoming old which made her laugh bitterly into her drink in her room those nights she wanted her privacy.

She was heading for the capital to report on her newest mission. She had found how the rebels were still able to get supplies to fuel their efforts despite the war that had carried on for almost ten years now. The prisoners in the hull of the ship would be hanged for their offenses and she had no regret for bringing them to their demise. She had been killing too long now to feel any regret for these people who refused the peace offered them. She tried to remember when she first lost that innocent part of her and realized it had been too long.

It was odd: she could have sworn she told herself never to forget that day.

She hates the capital so she is never there for long. The longest time had been when she was recovering from her leg injury and had been bed-ridden for almost six months. The smoke from the factories down at the port had filled her lungs with dirty air and made her one good eye constantly tear to fight the grime. Finally, when she could no longer take it she had tried to escape the infirmary and make her way back to the ship. It had been hard, she didn't have a proper crutch and the pull of gravity on her healing knee was enough to make her head swim.

He had found her holding onto a statue for dear life while balanced on one shaking leg. When he had approached to return her to the infirmary, she had hissed a threat about knowing how to castrate a man sixteen different ways and just because she was there to protect his life meant she couldn't hurt him. That had stopped him for only a second before he had laughed, filling the empty hallway with the noise. The suddenness of it made her grip slack and she had collapsed, screaming as she landed on her bad knee and the pain nearly knocking her unconscious.

"Is that not enough to repay your debt?" he asked and she hated the pity in his tone as he slowly returned her to her good foot.

"No." She still dreamt of blood, of the drowning sensation that always woke her up.

After that one night she never had to kneel before him upon greeting and was given room to sit with her leg stretched out when she was forced to attend the war meetings. Her actions never had to be explained, for actions spoke louder than words.

This time there is a rather disturbing joy in being in the capital when the smugglers are put on trial. She attends the trial, she has to as she was the one to capture them and feels some part of vengeance cleansed from her soul when the pirates are ordered to be hung for their offenses by the Fire Lord. She won't be there to watch; she has seen enough people die and be killed, its' nothing she ever gets true pleasure in. She confides this in him when they share a brief drink in his office before she ships out again that night and he tells her the same.

"They tried to kill me once," he tells her, smiling coldly at the wall in front of him. "It's payback for me as well to order their death. That ass-whole of an Admiral ordered it."

"He was lacking in the balls to do it himself." They both get a laugh out of it before she stands slowly and leaves him in the office without saying a word of farewell.

They never do.

The Avatar had long forsaken them, only intervening when the war threatens to escape their small lands and enter the rest of the world. Even as an adult he believes that lives should not be taken and hates what they had been forced to do to try and gain peace. They don't mention him anymore on those few times when they are together as old friends, but they talk about the others. While they had been living in war the rest had lived peacefully elsewhere, continuing on the lives that they had earned.

She had five nieces and nephews and is a secret godmother to four others, she tells him one night as they sit in her stateroom sharing drinks. She is helping transport food, armor, and weapons to one of the small eastern islands and to join the men having troubles protecting the villages being slaughtered because of their loyalty to him. He is joining her because he has spent too long hiding in his palace again and secretly misses the thrill of fighting rather than simply ordering it.

He is honorary secret uncle to two earthbenders and three young acrobats traveling the Earth Nation, he tells her. Neither talks about their lack of children and the lack of someone to call their own anymore. He had long since lost the one he had thought he would marry; she had left one night four years into the civil war and had sent him a letter a year later saying she was living a boring life in Ba Sing Se and was expecting her first child in three months. She had lost the one who said he had loved her after she had first returned to his lands, for he was unable to understand the reason for her actions and had married a girl with gapped teeth and horsehair she says laughing, the pain long gone from her eyes.

They find solace in each other, when their armor is removed and all that is between them are their scarred and damaged bodies that show all they had gone through. She lovingly caresses the scar on his chest and he brushes light kisses on her damaged eye and over her shattered knee. No words are ever exchanged for they understand they are still at war and promises whispered during secret embraces are not meant to be kept. They always wake up in separate beds to their own nightmares for it wouldn't be good for speculation to start onboard her own ship, even if her men understand the concept of discretion.

On land, walking among men who call out in greeting, ignoring rank and protocol they are nothing more than master and servant.

sSs

Ending Note: I am looking for someone to be a beta reader for the longer story I am working on (I'm new to the beta-reader system and a new author so sadly I'm lost at sea). Check out my profile for a summary on the story, Wherever You May Be, which is another Zuko x Katara story six years after the end of the series. I'm thinking of posting a preview at the end of this story as well so look for that.

Please review if you have the time!

Disclaimer: Avatar the Last Airbender belongs to Nickelodeon and its creator. I just play in their world.