Warning: This chapter contains brief references to/speculation on genocide, some of which is reminiscent of the Holocaust.


"You remember what to do, right?"

Tentatively, Lien nodded.

"Okay then." Katara gave her own nod in turn, and lowered herself until everything but her face was fully immersed. The coolness of the water rose to embrace her, washing away the sweat and the stink of salve and old blood that had caked around her wound. "But you have to keep your promise—all of them."

"I'm not going to leave." She had asked Piandao to leave off writing lessons for the day, in favor of bidding Lien to stay in the room with her. "You know I've been going to the Spirit World by accident, right? I don't mean to go there, but I will come back. I don't want to die."

"Then why won't you let me heal you?" Her bottom lip trembled, and Katara felt a pang go through her at the question. "Don't you want to get better?"

"Oh no no no, Lien, it's not that." She reached out and pulled the girl close against her side, and Lien leaned into it though she still felt tense. "You were forced to heal for so many years, and we don't want you to have to do that anymore…"

"But what if I want to?" Once again, Lien had surprised her: the way she was looking at Katara was nothing short of defiant. "You said you want me to talk to water, so why don't you want me to heal?"

"I would think you'd have more faith in your own daughter…"

"Lien." Katara pushed herself up onto her elbows with a groan. "Answer me one question. Do you want to do this? Or do you think you'll be in trouble if you don't?"

Lien shook her head violently, her hair swinging from side to side. "I want to!"

A few seconds passed before Katara let out a sigh of resignation. "Okay. I'll let you do it—but on one condition." A happy grin had spread over Lien's face at her words. "Promise me that the second you start to feel tired, you'll stop."

"I will." Then, she held out her hands, and the water began to glow.

Katara breathed in as the soothing coolness worked its way through her body. It had been too long.

Her first instinct was to reach for the water herself. Song, however, had put her foot down when it came to Katara self-healing, and deep down, Katara knew that she was right. It worked well enough on minor injuries, but when she was this badly hurt, her body would not have the energy to spare. She would just have to keep an eye on Lien to make sure that she knew when to stop—and herself, to know that she had made the right decision.

"Relax," Song urged.

With a nod, Katara took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and tried to become one with the water.

It was strange, to be on the other side of water healing. Even if she wasn't doing it herself, Katara was still a waterbender; she could feel the water moving, wrapping around her body, seeking out the injuries that most needed repair.

Like that time with the stream, she realized. Don't force it. Just let it be. Trust her.

With that thought, she relaxed completely, leaning into the tub and for once not thinking about anything but the cool soothing sensation that surrounded her, the ebb and flow of water. Time ceased to have any meaning. Now, the only thing in existence was her and her element.

Katara didn't know how long she lay there, simply communing with the water. Soon enough, however, she noticed a change: the liquid around her seemed a bit more sluggish, the cooling sensation not quite as soothing. Immediately, she opened her eyes—only to see that Lien was already stopping, her hands quietly lowering into the rest pose. Her breath was coming slightly faster than normal, but other than that, she showed no strain.

Carefully, Katara took a deep breath of her own. It was easier to take the air now, the stabbing pains that had been shooting through her chest with every careless inhale now reduced to a dull ache.

"Thank you," she whispered, hoping that Lien would understand everything she meant by it: for healing me… and for keeping your promise.


"Lien, there's something I need to talk to you about."

Immediately she seemed skittish, on her guard, her eyes darting to the door as if in the hopes that someone else would enter and spare her from whatever it was that Katara was about to put her through.

"I promise, you're not in trouble." Though she dearly would have liked to stop there, given the matter at hand she knew how important it was and forced herself to keep going.

"You saved my life after the eclipse. And I never want you to think that that's a bad thing, or that I'm not grateful." For a long moment, she paused, gathering her courage as she carefully considered how she wanted to phrase this. "When you healed me," she continued at last, "you weren't only using my water. You used the water in my heart as well."

Lien flinched violently. "I was trying to help…" Her voice trailed away into nothingness.

"I know that you were. And you did," Katara reassured. "I would be dead right now if not for you. But this is still something you need to know about." She waited until Lien looked up at her again before continuing. "What you did… it's a special technique known as bloodbending."

Even using the name seemed to send a chill over the room. Lien shivered. "Should I not?"

Katara sighed. "I'm not going to tell you not to do whatever you have to to save lives—you saved mine. But this is the first time I've seen it used that way. Her body, twisting to someone else's will as tears streamed from her eyes… Azula, stiffened, unable even to scream as every muscle in her body locked up at once… "Bloodbending can be used to hurt other people, and hurt them horribly. There are some bending techniques that shouldn't be used no matter what."


One of the hardest parts about recovery, she soon realized, was simply getting up.

Song had a set of metal bars, with which she encouraged Katara to support herself when she first got to her feet. Song gave her some help, allowing Katara to lean on her shoulder when she got out of bed—but she also knew that the healer was not strong enough to support her full weight, and that in the end, it was up to her to put in the effort of standing.

She'd helped Zuko walk in much the same way, when he'd still been healing after his ordeal in the desert. Mostly, he'd leaned on Xi Wang, who'd been the physically strongest of the three healthy adults, but more often than not Katara had offered her shoulder as well. It wasn't the first time Katara had taken some of his weight, and she was sure it wouldn't be the last.

She shook her head, trying to brush away the echoes of the past. Zuko wasn't here. He'd be back—hopefully soon—but he wasn't here now. Now, it was up to Katara to take her recovery into her own hands.

Curling her fingers around the bars, she took a deep breath, and took her first step.

Her legs did not want to hold her. The instant she put her weight on them, her knees tried to buckle, but Katara gritted her teeth and gripped the bars all the harder, willing herself not to fall. Fighting against her body the whole way, she lifted her other foot, and took another.

By the time she had finished, she was gasping for breath, her arms trembling, and she nearly collapsed against Song as the healer helped her to a chair. "You did very well," Song said encouragingly as Katara accepted her offering of water; she barely had the strength to lift the cup to her mouth. "At this rate you'll be up and about in no time."

Katara still didn't have her breath back to answer. She looked at the bars. They couldn't have been longer than the combined heights of two people, lying head to toe, but crossing that distance had felt like trying to wade a swamp with stone shoes clapped to her feet. It must have taken her a good fifteen minutes just to cross that meager space.

"I know it doesn't seem like it now," Song said quietly, reading her thoughts. "But trust me. You're stronger than you think."

"I've gone through this before," Piandao told her later that evening, without prompting, when he came in to update her on Lien's writing lessons. "I won't do you the disservice of telling you that it's not as bad as you think. But I think you'll be surprised by what you can accomplish if you have faith in yourself—and I promise, it does get better."

Katara looked at him—for the first time not as her brother's master, or an ally who'd sheltered them, but as someone who'd struggled and fought against adversity after adversity, who'd had to learn with new limitations at each passing stage of his life. He'd been an expert swordsman, able to stand with the masters of the White Lotus in spite of having no bending. He'd helped at least two students reach their full potential, in spite of being under house arrest. Now… now, he'd helped her and Zuko in more ways than she could count, sheltered them at his own expense, and offered Lien a permanent home, and all this after losing the war, losing his full mobility, losing loved ones…

All of a sudden, she felt her eyes welling, and hastily turned to the side as she raised a hand to her face. Maybe it was the fact that he had offered compassion and empathy, but without the condescending pity that Katara had seen all too often even among those who were trying to help. Maybe it was the relief of finally being able to talk to someone who understood. Whatever it was, Katara could not put it into words. Instead, she nodded her thanks even as she wiped her eyes, and though she didn't try to voice it, she knew that her gratitude was understood.

"How's Lien doing?" she asked instead, turning the conversation back to the original nightly topic.

"She practices her lessons dutifully," he informed her with a respectful incline of his head, "and is doing as well as anyone can reasonably expect of a child her age. As her teacher, I can voice no complaints… but I can tell there's someone else she'd much rather be learning from."

There was nothing Katara could say, so she curled her hands in the sheets instead. Zuko had been teaching Lien her characters ever since they'd first settled in Piandao's cabin, just as he'd carried her across half the Earth Kingdom when she was too tired to walk, and held her in his arms nights as she'd drifted off to sleep…

"Still," she managed at last, feeling the words wholly inadequate. "Thank you for teaching her."

"Children of that age usually do prefer the company of their parents. Even if I cannot give them that gift, I am glad to be of service in whatever way I can."

Not for the first time, Katara wondered why Piandao had never had children. He'd been so patient with Sokka's crazy antics and (if the stories she'd heard were anything to go by) with Zuko's arrogant entitlement, and seemed to have a gift for bringing out the best in every student he taught. Was it by choice, because he would rather have control over which children he mentored? Was he barren? Did he prefer men, or lack the sorts of urges that led to children altogether? Was it a mere lack of opportunity? Or did he simply not trust himself?

Whatever the reason, she did not think that Piandao would volunteer it, and in spite of her curiosity, Katara knew that she would never ask. Instead, she nodded her thanks again, and greeted Lien with open arms when she peered around the edge of the door frame after he had left.


"Even after you've learned, you still have to keep practicing. Let's start with the basics."

The bathroom had become their new arena, Song's wide tub an adequate (if not particularly active) source of water. Though they couldn't take the risk of throwing ice spikes or making huge waves, the room was large and open, designed to accommodate people who needed extra assistance, and it was far better than a bowl on the floor. With Song's permission, Katara had opted to continue Lien's waterbending lessons there.

Now, Lien was standing in the middle of the tub, demonstrating the simple move of keeping the water parted around her. "Good," Katara encouraged, critically assessing her stance and the movements of her limbs. "Spread your feet a bit wider—not that wide. A firm stance will keep you from getting knocked off your feet, but you also need to be able to move if you have to."

It was harder this way. Normally when Katara taught she would demonstrate the moves herself, or if she was working with someone amenable to it, gently nudge her student's limbs into the correct position. Verbalizing moves that her body knew by heart was, as it turned out, extremely difficult—not to mention frustrating, when Lien did not understand what she had meant, and Katara had to stumble over the words in an effort to use clumsy language to describe something that was much better shown.

"That's better." Even if Katara had had the strength, lobbing water at her to test her defenses was out of the question—but she could tell by looking that Lien was doing it right. Nevertheless, they ran through a few more basics before Katara decided to move on to more advanced techniques.

"Now show me a water whip—aim for the door." There were no breakables in that direction and the angle was such that it would not hit Katara by accident, and the bathroom was large enough that even someone who entered unannounced would be unlikely to get hit. Besides, the others already knew what they were doing in here, Song always knocked first, and as far as she was concerned anyone who burst in on them without warning for any reason other than to tell them that the house was on fire would deserve a smack in the face anyway.

"Good." Katara smiled encouragingly on Lien's third try. "But I think that's enough for today."

What she really meant was that the pain was starting to get to her. After a few periods of trial and error, they'd begun holding their waterbending practice directly before each healing session—moving in and out of the bathroom multiple times a day was stressful for Katara, and she did not want Lien practicing after she was already worn out with healing. Unfortunately, that also meant that they could not go long before the strain of sitting started to wear on her, and she needed to get into the water.

Lien stepped out of the tub—reluctantly, she thought—as Katara shed her robe and pushed herself to her feet with a groan. The first few times, Song had helped her. Now, she could manage more or less on her own, provided she had something to lean against for most of the way.

"Do you still want to do this?" she asked once she was fully immersed in the water—as she had been asking every day for the past week. "If you want to take a break, that's okay."

Also as always, Lien shook her head. "I want to."

By this point, the routine was well-established. "Okay. But stop when you're tired." Almost before she had finished speaking, the water began to glow.

Though Katara tried to relax into the healing, as was often the case when she had time to think, she could not help but worry, and this time it wasn't only about Lien's bloodbending abilities, or when Zuko would be back.

Continued waterbending lessons were all well and good, but Katara had not forgotten the fact that Lien was not solely a waterbender. She was the Avatar. There were four elements for her to learn, and so far she only had teachers for two. Katara had already taught her all that she knew (at least, all that she intended to pass on), and now they were only working on refining technique. It was time to start thinking about earth.

There had to be earthbenders somewhere on the continent. Katara knew they were there, much as she had known as a child that her sister tribe was tucked away somewhere in the legendary North. Now, however, finding an earthbending teacher for Lien was even more daunting than finding a waterbending teacher had been for herself: inaccessible, a distant dream.

Of course, the question that really needed answering was what the Fire Nation had been doing with them.

All around the Earth Kingdom, earthbenders had been disappearing. First, it had only been from the villages that had fought back, but as time went on those with known earthbending abilities would leave their homes and never return, or even hear a knock on the door in the dead of night and be gone without a trace the next morning. It was Haru's village all over again, but on the scale of a whole continent.

They were not kept enslaved as the water healers were. Katara would know; for five years straight she and Zuko had made it their business to break into Fire Nation military bases, freeing slave after slave in their search for Lien. Nor was there another prison barge involved: when she'd broached the idea to Zuko, he'd stated that it was an impossibility on such a massive scale.

"The first prison barge was an experiment," he explained, "conducted on a few villages in a small area of the Earth Kingdom where the Fire Nation was trying to consolidate control. But we don't have the resources to do it for a whole continent." A map was already spread out in front of them, and he tapped his finger on the parchment where the Fire Nation was located. "We're a tiny island chain. Most of our population could probably fit in Ba Sing Se alone. If Ozai wants to maintain control, he's going to use the nation's metal and manufacturing to build more warships and war balloons, not prison barges." He grimaced. "I don't know whether the Fire Nation could even feed a prison population that size."

"So what do you think he's doing with them?" Katara countered.

"Either he's keeping them in specially made prisons somewhere in the Earth Kingdom… or he's throwing them in the ovens as soon as they're caught. Knowing Ozai, I wouldn't put it past him."

The thought made her shudder. She remembered what Sokka and Suki had said about Toph's capture at the hands of the Fire Nation, remembered Haru and his father and all of the other earthbenders who'd fought alongside them on the Day of Black Sun. While she'd long ago accepted the possibility—the likelihood, even—of her friends' deaths, the thought of them ending their lives burned to nameless ashes and left in an unmarked grave left her filled with equal parts fury and despair.

Xi Wang hadn't been much more helpful when they'd discussed the matter in a bit more detail on their way out of the desert. She hadn't been lying when she'd told their captors she had no knowledge of the Fire Nation's plans.

"Look, all I know is that if we had reason to suspect that anyone in our district had earthbending abilities, we were to report it to the captain or face disciplinary action. He would take it to someone higher up in the chain of command, and a few weeks later an elite task force would arrive to take care of it. What happened next was classified information—not even Captain Hide had the clearance to know."

Still, the Earth Kingdom was a big place with a diverse population, where even a firebender could go undetected for several months at least. There were old ruins and stretches of wilderness where a single person could go for years without seeing another soul. There must have been some who'd escaped. The biggest problem was finding them.

Even after Zuko had returned and Katara was back on her feet, they did not have the resources or the time to spend months or years combing over the Earth Kingdom wilderness because there was a miniscule possibility that they might find someone. Even supposing they did, what then? There was no guarantee that any earthbender they did happen to meet would be willing to take on a student, especially given the need to conceal that Lien was the Avatar, and then they would have wasted valuable time gallivanting around in the wilderness, time that could have been spent teaching Lien something useful.

Of course, there was still one other possibility… but it was a resort Katara did not want to consider until all other possible avenues had been exhausted. Not after the way their last encounter had gone.

Out of all the peoples in the Earth Kingdom, only the sandbenders had managed to escape the purge relatively unscathed. As Xi Wang had said, the Si Wong Desert had no resources that were of interest to the Fire Nation, and the hostility of the environment precluded a prolonged invasion. There were many skilled benders among the various desert tribes, and there would be no need to hide Lien's identity—they already knew. It was how they'd found out that made Katara reject the idea out of hand.

They'd tortured Zuko. Katara had been patching him up for nearly a month even after they'd left the desert. It wasn't only a matter of how badly hurt he'd been, either—she'd never seen him so shaken, so buried in whatever remembered or imagined trauma that was eating him alive that he hadn't known her. Then, there was the matter of Lien.

She'd not only been terrified—terrified and alone, while Katara had been sitting there with bound hands and no water and had been able to do nothing—but the sound of Zuko's screams had sent her over the edge and into the Avatar State. If Katara hadn't managed to calm her down, people would have died—Lien might even have died. Katara had checked her over even before she'd started cleaning the gashes, abrasions, and ugly deep punctures on Zuko's back, chest, and limbs, and she'd found that such a powerful transformation had put an undue strain on her exhausted, undernourished six-year-old body. Thankfully, the damage had been reversible—this time. If it were to become a regular occurrence, though, or if were allowed to go on for an extended time, Katara did not like to think what it would do to her. She was still too young, and if there was anything that ran a risk of triggering her…

In the bathtub, she shook her head. She was getting ahead of herself. Katara needed to heal. Zuko needed to assess this newest threat. After all of that was done, they could worry about earthbending. If an opportunity arose, it would be better than they had hoped for, but if it didn't… well, before they could thrive, they needed to survive. Everything else could come later.


A/N: I keep forgetting to mention this, but I'm now keeping track of my progress for this series, which can be found on my profile. Book 2, Part 2 is currently a huge mess, thus the "It's Complicated" line, but I'll reassure you that I do have most of it done. I'm just waiting for that final bit of inspiration.

Also, I do have another hiatus and another time skip planned, between Part 1 and Part 2. Part 1 stands at 10 chapters, so that's a little ways off yet.