The Art of Peace
Chapter 1: Détente
"That must have been some letter," Iroh murmured, watching the slim girl approach. More woman than girl, now, he mused silently.
As usual, Zuko ignored him. Mai said nothing, fanning herself slowly. The oppressive heat of summer hadn't yet faded, and here she was, being forced into the midday sun to officially welcome the water bender to the fire nation.
It was the Fire Lord's job to greet the Chancellor with a grand speech about loyalty and bravery and trust. And in the back of his mind, Zuko knew that, just as he knew he was Fire Lord now, and not a seventeen year old boy finding his way in the world. But when her blue eyes met his, no words came out.
"Zuko, it's good to see you." She smiled and the tension melted away.
"You too, Katara."
Mai's fan snapped shut as the party moved indoors. Iroh led Katara around, showing her the marvels of the palace.
The deep red marble of the walls had seemed so ominous when she was younger. But invading a country and helping to rule the country were two very different things. Zuko and Mai walked behind her and Iroh by a few paces, and Katara was glad that despite the heat, she had left her hair down.
With Hakoda and the other warriors returned to the South Pole, Katara had found herself using her water bending for little more than advanced igloo construction. She had been without parental supervision for an entire year; trusting her friends and her instincts for survival. She had played an instrumental role in stopping a one hundred year long war.
But in the South Pole, she was just Katara, daughter of Hakoda, recently of marrying age. Aang had left her to do his duty, restoring balance to the world and searching for the descendants of air benders, which hurt, but she understood. He was the Avatar, and she was just another bump along his road of spiritual enlightenment.
Sokka had left for Kyoshi as soon as he could. Suki wanted to marry him, and she was happy for them. Just before she'd boarded the ship to the fire nation, she heard Sokka was going to be a dad. If Zuko's letter hadn't arrived, she would have gone to Kyoshi Island, if only to get away from her own father.
Hakoda had objected, of course. She was water nation. They wouldn't accept her, he argued. After all, she was a woman now. She had a responsibility to her tribe.
"Over here is a tapestry that chronicles the birth of the fire nation. See there is the great dragon, spouting fire into the sea, and there…"
"Uncle, our guest is probably tired from her journey." Zuko cut him off gently.
"Forgive my rambling, Katara. I forget my manners in the presence of such charming company," Iroh flirted.
Katara hugged the old man tightly. "I missed you, you big tease."
Iroh's belly laugh filled the great hall. Mai raised a questioning eyebrow. He grinned and shook his head. "If I were thirty years younger…"
"Only thirty?" Zuko asked.
He laughed again. The Fire Nation was in good hands. He could retire to Ba Sing Se with a peaceful heart.
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The bed was comfortable, but she just couldn't sleep. The palace was too empty and quiet. And hot. She shared her igloo in the South with Gran-Gran and her dad and Sokka and Suki when they visited and sometimes Pakku, even.
Here, a servant brought her some water to wash with, turned down the silk coverlet, and arranged the drapes to her liking. Then they left.
Katara slipped a light robe on over her night clothes. It wasn't as oppressively hot as it had been during the day. A breeze fluttered her hem as she walked. In the dim moonlight, it was hard to tell if the figures in the hall were guards or suits of armor. Either way, it was unsettling.
Her feet took her to the only familiar place in the fire nation. The courtyard was etched into her memory. They had planted new trees, but as Katara trailed her hand along the wall of the palace, she felt some red paint flake off the building's scorch mark.
The metal grate groaned as she walked carefully along its length. The water flowed silently below her, steadying her as her mind reenacted the last real battle she'd fought. She bent to one knee, and the water rose to greet her.
Pulling a thin strand from the stream, she straightened. Eyes closed, Katara began the complex steps of an advanced water bending form. The water whirled around her body as her stances flowed effortlessly one into the other, an elaborate and deadly dance.
The water slithered over her shoulder and behind her head. With a flick of a finger, it became an icicle and shot past a tall man intruding on her memories. The spear embedded itself into the pillar, inches away from Zuko's ear.
"You should know better than to sneak up on a water bender in the middle of the night."
"After all these years, I thought your aim would be better." He reached up, melting the ice with his hand.
"Who's saying it's not?"
Zuko smirked, continuing to watch her. She'd pulled another tendril of water from the stream and had sunk back into a fighting stance. He'd watched her run through forms before, at the Western Air temple, but back then she was a girl. Her crane stance, once weak, was now flawless, and while he had only met one other water bending master, he was willing to bet that Katara was more than his equal now.
She bowed at the end of her form, a traditional warrior's bow, and smiled mischievously at the young Fire Lord. "Tell me, what have you been up to these last few years?"
Her smile was infectious and a grin tugged at the corner of Zuko's mouth. "The usual. Boring meetings. Fancy parties. Ruling a nation."
"So no time to fire bend, then."
"I have grown stronger, too." The way she moved the water around her body was hypnotic. It was like a snake, with a mind of its own, curling around her arms and waist.
"Think you could take me?"
Zuko's grin widened. "I wouldn't want to wake anyone."
"Aw, is the big bad Fire Lord scared to get wet?" Katara teased, juggling her water bubble.
He shrugged off his robe. The silk didn't make a sound as it fell; there was only the crunch of the gravel under bare feet as the two bending masters moved into the courtyard. The pale half moon didn't give them much light, but they didn't need it.
Ten feet apart, they breathed in unison, testing each other's qi.
Shifting her weight to her back leg, Katara struck. The water punched out, like two giant arms. Zuko sliced through them easily with two short bursts of fire. He countered quickly, whipping out with a tendril of flame.
They fought like old enemies; when Katara sunk into her octopus stance, Zuko easily broke it with a ring of fire. When he lashed out with his flaming spin kick, she brushed it off with a swiftly raised wall of ice.
The servants, and even some of the nobles, rushed to see what the commotion was. Iroh watched from the sidelines. When the palace guards attempted to stampede the courtyard, he raised his hand to stop them.
"My nephew is in no danger. At least not from her," he told them, gold eyes twinkling.
Mai peered from a doorway, fingering one of her many daggers, dour expression on her pretty face. Her personal body guard stood beside her, silently watching the duel.
"Bending is so mundane, don't you think?" she asked, not expecting a reply. When she didn't get one, she spun on her heel and headed back to her rooms.
The warriors broke apart, panting.
"You ready to give up yet?" she asked, flicking the hair out of her eyes.
Smirking, Zuko simply raised his guard. "When are you going to show me something new, Water Tribe?"
Dividing her water whip into two, Katara grasped the base of it like the double scimitars he favored. With a whoop that was almost joyous, she flew at him, water swords raised. Zuko formed his flames into dual daggers, just like he had when he was young. This attack was more physical; each time he would rend her swords, they would reform as she pulled the steam from the air. Her blades got within a hair's breadth of scarring his face a second time, but she had to stumble back from having her arm burned beyond repair.
The swords melted into an icy gauntlet, spiked and dangerous. Her blue eyes were inscrutable as Zuko readied himself. They clashed again, his flaming dagger glancing off the gauntlet. She ducked under his reach, her water splashing to the ground. Zuko spun, trying to catch her off guard; instead, he flipped gracelessly onto his back. The ground underneath him had turned to ice. In the blink of an eye, she pounced.
Knees to his chest, Katara sat proudly atop her victim. A bead of sweat dripped off her forehead, onto his. Neither of them moved, just catching their breath.
Iroh cleared his throat and the moment was broken. Zuko glared at him, and the crowd scattered, most heading back to their beds. The gravel crunched as the older gentleman approached the Fire Lord and his new Chancellor.
"Katara, that was quite impressive," Iroh said, lending her his hand. "Where did you learn it?"
"Foggy Swamp Style, it's called. 'Conserve your energy. Let your opponent defeat himself'," she answered, not able to look him in the eye.
Zuko propped himself up on one of his elbows. "When did you go to the swamps?"
"About a year ago." The answer hid more than it revealed, but Zuko didn't ask.
His back twinged as got to his feet. It'd been far too long since he was challenged; he needed to train more. Katara held back a smile at her Lord's grimace.
"I'm sorry Fire Nation, did you need some assistance back to your chambers? You know, because I beat you so soundly?"
"Next time, we duel at noon."
Author's Note:
Still disclaimed.
I have another chapter mostly written already. Please review.
Carolyn
