A/N: This one is a long one. Enjoy all the feels; I certainly did :)
Thank you, Sarah, for editing.
Chapter 7
On the fifth day, she visited Zuko without her usual retinue.
It had taken her an infuriatingly long time to convince everyone that she did not want company that morning. Yes, everything was fine back home; Gisō was well, Aang was fine; there were no conspiracies, plots, upheavals, or any otherwise nefarious goings-on happening in the Fire Nation at the moment. At least, not that Gisō had specified.
Katara had thought about the letter incessantly through the night; it impinged on her sleep and her dreams. Sometime, deep in the cold morning hours, she had come to the conclusion that Gisō had not said much of anything in his letter. His well wishes had read persuasively, and he honestly seemed to miss Katara…but that was all the letter had been. And in her fatigued and irritable state last night, Katara had starting finding the whole business terribly shallow.
Because, she had reasoned with the wall of her room, Gisō really hadn't needed to take the time to write all of those empty blandishments. The letter had been very surprising, and the wakeful waterbender tossed and turned as she tried to figure out why he had written it at all. He had said Aang was still there. But he hadn't said why her old friend had even come in the first place. That was what truly dug at Katara. This whole issue with Aang was gnawing at her insides. Why Gisō even felt the need to bring the Avatar into the scope of the letter was beyond her sleepy rationalization.
And then Katara had come to the point of delirium. Wild conspiracies flew through her head: secret organizations Aang had been tracking; deadly assassins around every corner; the possibility of the letter being intercepted, hence the need for ambiguity…
A sound palm to the forehead halted those thoughts. Though, in all reality, the fact that the letter could be intercepted wasn't so wild an idea. Of course the Fire Lord wouldn't want important Avatar information on a potential course into the wrong hands.
After very little sleep and much grumbling, Katara had awoken, groggy and guilty. Gisō had taken the time to write to her and wish their family good health; which was more than her treacherous mind had even anticipated. Naturally, she wrote a joyful return letter and dispatched it with a morning messenger hawk after breakfast.
This brought her to her present destination, standing on the threshold of Zuko's shop with the bemused firebender eyeing her warily.
Katara cleared her throat and moved all the way into the tent. No one else was there, and the two regarded each other awkwardly before Zuko braved the waters of welcome first.
"Everything's fine in the Fire Nation, I assume?"
The inquiry startled Katara for a few seconds. "Oh, yes. My husband just wanted to make sure I was enjoying myself."
"And are you?"
Katara did not know why this question made her blush, but she could feel her face heating up unnecessarily. "Yes." And then almost defiantly: "I've enjoyed every minute here."
The implication hung in the air, obvious. Zuko smirked back at her from his place by the table of bottles he was polishing.
Katara rolled her eyes and started a circuit around the shop. She wasn't in any mood for pretty things, though. "I wanted to hear more about your uncle."
Zuko ceased polishing and eyed her even more wearily than before. "Why?"
She frowned at him. "Because it sounds like he was a great man."
Zuko contemplated this before setting the blue-green bottle down and crossing his arms. "He was. But why does the Fire Lady want to know?"
He sounded accusatory and Katara, learned in the arts of politics, became suspicious. She narrowed her eyes. "The Fire Lady doesn't want to know. Katara does."
Zuko snorted, and Katara grit her teeth in irritation. "Why are you so up in arms? Why would you care that I think your uncle interesting?"
"Because there's really no reason for you to. This is either the Fire Lady clumsily attempting to glean information about my uncle or a woman tip toeing around learning more about me."
His arrogance was unrivaled. Katara blanched and then burned in rapid succession. "You are mad! I asked about your uncle, not you!" She unconsciously stamped her foot. "If I wanted to learn more about you, I'd ask other people. They'd all probably tell me the same thing."
Zuko's eyes narrowed, his scar looking even more sinister in his wrath. "You're so—so"
"What?"
"SO INFERNAL."
A little puff of smoke issued from his left hand, which he immediately clenched. They glared at each other from across the room. "That's rich," Katara snapped.
Zuko sighed and stalked over to his jewelry counter, ignoring her. She traipsed after him, secretly pleased with her needling. "I just wanted to learn more about your uncle. You seemed to really respect him, and my father was right when he said you've got something more going for you than the whole angsty artist vibe."
She watched as he fiddled with the display cases and earring tower. He seemed longing to say something biting, but was refusing to rise to her bait. After a moment of silence and her stubborn refusal to leave, he bent.
"It's just that—I've always had the feeling that my uncle did some less than savory things."
Katara settled into a chair left out for clients and looked toward the entrance. They were still the only two in the shop. "And that's why you travelled so much?"
Zuko nodded, shooting her a quick glance. "I couldn't begin to guess what it might have been. We never stayed anywhere for more than a month, and—"
He looked at Katara's bright, unwavering gaze. "I don't know why I'm telling you this. You're pretty much the Law."
Katara burst out laughing, and Zuko looked confused. "Thank you for that compliment," she snorted through her mirth. "Fire Lady I may be, but I don't make the rules."
"No?"
She sobered at the hostility coating the syllable. "No. I sit in on all the meetings, I say my piece. Gisō and his advisors have the final say. I simply make suggestions."
She knew the bitterness in her voice was evident, but she hardly cared that this stranger heard her griping. "Why are you so convinced that what I hear about your uncle will somehow spell trouble?"
"You really don't see it? Or are you refusing to?"
"Explain it to me, now."
Zuko sneered at the command. "That's exactly what I mean. Yesterday, after our fight, you commanded that no harm come to me. You decision was 'final'."
Katara scowled. "Do you want to go to jail?"
Zuko shook his head impatiently. "That's not what I meant. Your father listened to you. The Chief of the Southern Water Tribe acquiesced."
Katara thought she knew where this was going. She swallowed.
Zuko continued. "Maybe he is just an honorable man and takes his children's advice and words to heart. He was certainly fair to me. But don't you think it unsettling that the leader of an entirely separate but allegedly equal nation bowed to your word as if it were scripture?"
Katara didn't know what to say. The end of the War of Water and Fire had ensured the separation of the two entities. They were on equal footing, just as Zuko suggested. The Fire Nation did not assume authority over the other nations in any way.
"You're speaking out of turn."
"Case and point."
Katara leapt to her feet. "I meant that any commoner should know not to speak to royalty that way, regardless of nationality."
Zuko laughed harshly. "You are refusing to see it! And here I thought that maybe you weren't just a pretty figurehead ignoring the outside world."
Katara's eyes stung. To insinuate that she refused to care for people she was meant to protect with her status and abilities was the worst thing Zuko could have said. She wiped away the tear that fell and steeled herself against him. His anger had fallen from his face as soon as he saw her reaction. She looked up at him through murky eyes. "I would never presume that I have the power to control another ruler's people. I only want to protect everyone, and that included you, yesterday."
Zuko lowered his eyes, chastened and embarrassed. "I am sorry, my Lady."
Katara composed herself in the ensuing silence and sat back down on the little rickety chair. "I've had enough apologies since I've been home. I meant what I said when I told you I've been enjoying myself, but the arguing I've been a part of needs to stop." She smiled sadly at him. "Could I maybe start here?"
Zuko stared at her until she fidgeted. "Um, Zuko?" He started. "What? Oh. Of course. We should start over. I haven't exactly been pleasant to you. I don't plan on being antagonizing…it just happens."
Katara giggled and held out her hand. Zuko reached out tentatively and took it. It was a soft hand, slightly roughened by a callous or two. It was also a warm hand; Katara felt a shiver go down her spine. He let go.
"I really did want to hear more about your uncle," she said. "And you." She held the artist's eye for as long as she could before focusing on the necklaces in front of her. "Was he an artist?"
The energy around them quieted, and they lapsed into comfortable companionship as Zuko commenced with the story of Iroh.
"He wasn't an artist, but he appreciated art in all its forms. He tried his hand at painting every so often, but he liked to quip about his lack of talent. He was more of a storyteller and musician. He also loved tea." Zuko perked up. "Would you like some?"
Too amused by the man's enthusiasm, Katara could hardly object. "Yes, please."
Zuko disappeared into the area beyond his back tent wall in search of tea things. Katara waited patiently, occupying her time by studying the pieces around her once more. She always felt like she saw something different every time she entered the shop. She wondered why there were no customers clamoring over the works now.
Her company returned and poured the tea. "Admittedly, I can't prepare tea like he could." Zuko watched her drink anxiously. "He always said my tea was bracing."
Katara swallowed and secretly agreed with old Iroh. "It's good!"
Zuko grinned.
"Earlier you said that you tended to stay in places for no more than a month. Why do you think that was?"
"Because I think that maybe he was nervous. I don't know why he would have been, but he always skirted popular villages unless it was a very, very large one. It made me think that maybe he felt safer in large crowds. We tended to hit outer villages. They were homier anyway."
Katara nodded, mulling over the facts. "Maybe he just had a case of antsy feet."
Zuko smiled, but he was shaking his head. "He just seemed so family oriented. It always made me kind of sad that he refused to settle down." Zuko remained quiet while he thought about what he was going to say next. "I was always too afraid I'd make him sad if I asked why he didn't want to stay anywhere. I guess I thought it had something to do with my mother and father dying."
Katara stiffened. She tamped down the urge to grab Zuko's hand. "You said they died when you were young."
"Yes. I wasn't even a year old. We lived in the mountains. There was a bad storm, and it caused a mudslide. Our house was wiped out." Zuko was staring into his tea. "My uncle saved my life—my mother asked him to."
Katara teared up. "I'm so sorry, Zuko."
"It's okay. I've shed my tears. It happened so long ago—they were mostly tears of anger. I never got to know them, you know. I don't even know what they looked like." His knuckles were white around the little blue teacup. Katara vaguely wondered if he had made all his own dishes, too. "I've made my peace with their deaths. My uncle's death…" He grimaced. "After he honored them, Uncle took me away from there. I don't know which mountain it was, and we never went back. Part of me wanted to go back, as a sort of pilgrimage in their memory. I just never found the strength."
"How did your uncle die?" Katara asked gently.
"He was just old. We moved too much."
Katara wanted nothing more than to comfort him, but she had no idea how to. He was stronger than she was. She could only protect those who needed her. Instead, she aimed for camaraderie.
"My mother died when I was young, too." She took a deep breath. "I was six years old, and the war was on the brink of starting. We were having trouble with Fire Nation raiders bombarding the villages every couple months. It started getting really bad, but we couldn't outright blame the government, because these men weren't affiliated—or so it seemed. They were just pirates. In international waters, they were outside the jurisdiction of the Fire Lord—Gisō.
"He was sixteen at the time, hardly more than a child. He had to pick up the pieces of the throne, you know. Assassins had killed the existing Fire Lord, Gisō's distant cousin. The entire line was wiped out." Zuko nodded, well aware of the history. Katara continued, her eyes lighting up in anger. "I suppose that's why things were coming to a head. The advisors Gisō had were corrupt and tensions were rising. I remember my father talking about it with my mother late at night. Neither side could come to terms on our problems. I guess the pirates were using our hatred of each other to do what they wanted. My mother paid the price."
She wasn't crying any longer. "One night, the pirates raided. It was more violent than any of the raids before. This time they weren't looking to steal anything; they just wanted to terrorize us. My mother died keeping me from harm."
"You married the Fire Lord, though." It was blunt, and ill-timed. Zuko admonished himself for even thinking of it. But Katara simply nodded. "I'd do it again in a heartbeat. The war is over."
Zuko waited for more, but the story ended there. Katara was tired of speaking of it. A deep, shuddering breath cleared her face of malice. She smiled sadly at Zuko. "We have something in common."
"Too bad it's something terrible."
Katara shrugged. "Sometimes the terrible things make the strongest bonds."
The cooling tea and the shifting shadows marked the passage of the hours. Outside, Katara could hear the muffled noises of the market and the tinkling of the sun catchers in the wind. The warmth and silence of the tent was making her drowsy. She moved and stretched her arms. Zuko stirred when she did.
"I should go. I have to help Suki with Tikaani. The feast is tomorrow night."
She was speaking fast and the facts she was pouring forth didn't really relate to each other. She coughed while Zuko looked at her with a bemused smirk on his lips. "You should come to the feast—it's my farewell one. It should be loud."
"And that's supposed to sell me on it?" He was teasing her. She laughed.
"No, but the food will be good. Plus, Sokka seems to like you for some reason, so I know he wouldn't mind seeing you."
Zuko snorted. "Your brother is interesting."
"You don't have to tell me twice." She stood, casting one more marveled eye around the shop. They reached the entryway simultaneously. "I can't believe there is no one here, today."
Zuko smiled and held the flap for her. "I was closed, today."
Katara had been right about one thing. The feast commemorating her last night there was indeed very loud.
The whole sixth day of her visit, the day of the farewell feast and the full moon, had been devoted to tumultuous preparation. Katara had found herself subject to Lana's wrath. The girl was torn between regret for having made her mistress angry with her all week and frustration for being on the receiving end of a cold shoulder. The way she had attacked Katara's hair and attire all day properly punished the Fire Lady. Katara had to admit that the result was well worth some hair pulling—figurative and literal.
Her dress was a new one that Gisō had had commissioned for her as a going away gift. Katara hadn't thought the gesture necessary, but he insisted on spoiling her. She thought it was beautiful when she saw it being placed into her luggage, but now, trying it on, Katara was mesmerized by it.
It was the lightest, airiest dress she had ever worn. The material enveloped her like a pool of cool water, and drifted over her skin like snow. It was not restricting in anyway, and Katara recognized the forethought that Gisō had put into the gown. It allowed for the ease of moment a master waterbender would need.
The color of the entire dress was uninterrupted frost—just the palest hint of blue permeated the silky cloth. The bust was the only part of the dress that clung to her in any way. Short sleeves hugged her shoulders, creating a neat square neckline. Crystals and sapphires studded the bodice, dripping down her right side, over the gauzy train, like a waterfall. She shimmered like the moon on the ocean.
The only downside to the dress that Katara could see was that she would not be able to wear Zuko's earrings with it. They were too dark for such a glistening dress. She settled on a pair of diamond teardrops and a simple necklace. A sapphire flanked by two tiny diamonds hung from a silver chain.
The dress had been a popular topic amongst her people when she stepped foot into the tent, arm-in-arm with her father. Women and children oohed and ahhed over her, while men bowed and grinned and called her an image of the moon itself. Sokka had even said she looked beautiful.
The air was thick with laughter and merriment as music played and couples danced in a cleared space between the high table and the rest of the crowd. Acrobats from the Earth Kingdom performed between sets, and Air Nomads did tricks with wind currents that made the children squeal in delight. People snacked on a plethora of cuisines, including, Katara had noticed happily, the ham she had tried on her first day at the market. She managed to catch the eye of the man who had prepared it, he waved back excitedly. Everyone was content. Katara soaked the night in, trying not to think about her impending farewell in the morning.
After the various performers exited the floor, Hakoda stood and addressed the hall. "Good evening, everyone. As you know, tonight we honor my daughter, Katara's, last night with us. Tomorrow she begins her voyage back to her husband and second family in the Fire Nation."
Murmurs of sorrowful regret bubbled through the assembly, and Katara smiled at her extended family. Her father continued.
"I know that we will all miss her, but that we will all wish her safe travels and send her good thoughts." He turned to Katara. "You know that you can come home any time, Katara."
She held back her tears as she stood to hug him. Sokka was discreetly dabbing at his eyes beside her. She turned to her people, subjects and equals; the natives of the water tribes, the Earth Kingdom, the Air Temples, and the Fire Nation alike. "I just wanted to thank you all for your hospitality and graciousness while I've been here. It means so much that we can all come together so auspiciously. Please know that I will always do my duty to you all; you have my vow."
Cheers went up and Katara saluted the mass of smiling people. Her father calmed them and finished his words. "There is one final gesture we would all like to make to you before you spend your vigil beneath the moon." He clicked his fingers, and a line began forming, much to Katara's bemusement. First and foremost were her brother and Suki.
They came forward, hands clasped. Sokka held a boomerang in his free hand, and his wife held a flowing green garment. They bowed to Katara, and Sokka spoke first. "Katara, I would like you to have this," he stepped forward, detaching himself from Suki, and reverently bestowed the boomerang into Katara's hands. It was hand-carved from whale bone, ivory and smooth, and decorated with traditional Southern Water Tribe protection glyphs. In all appearances it looked ceremonial, but Katara knew Sokka: this boomerang was fully functional. He met her shining eyes with a fierce and loyal gaze. "This is for you so that you may protect yourself if your bending should fail."
"Sokka," Katara stuttered. "It's beautiful. Thank you." She stepped down from her platform and the siblings embraced. "How will I learn to use it effectively, though?"
Sokka held her shoulders at arm's length, grinning. "Well, that's my second gift. I'm coming with you for a few months, and I plan on teaching you."
Katara could not speak. She turned to look at Suki, who smiled and nodded. Katara did not know how to thank either of them. That Sokka was determined to accompany her when Tikaani was still so young was, in her opinion, the highest honor her older brother could give. She also realized that there would be no persuading the parents against it. She simply nodded in return and said her thanks. Sokka stepped back to allow Suki to approach. The young woman held out the green cloth, and Katara finally understood what it was.
"While I will be unable to accompany you, Katara, I send with you the traditional garb of a Kyoshi Warrior. I hope that you will accept status as an honorary member, and always remember the Warrior Code when faced with difficulties."
Katara handed the boomerang to her father and gently took the Kyoshi robes in her hands. "Suki, words cannot describe the honor you do me. I will always remember the Kyoshi way." She placed the clothes carefully in Hakoda's arms and proceeded to wrap her arms around her sister. "Thank you for this and Sokka." Suki giggled and hugged Katara tighter.
More gifts were bestowed by various family members and vendors. Katara was in utter awe of the kindness being shown to her. She did not think herself worthy, but the people shushed her objections.
And then, quite suddenly, Zuko stood before her, a package of red cloth and blue wax carefully bundled in his arms. This was the first time she had seen him tonight, and her heart skipped strangely at the sight of him. She hadn't thought he'd come.
He took the last merchant's place and cleared his throat uncertainly. She gave him an encouraging nod. "Lady Katara, I present to you a gift from my own stock. I hope that you find it pleasing to the eye and agreeable to your spirit." He bowed and stretched forth the gift.
Katara took the parcel and cautiously slit the wax with a bit of water from her glass. Hakoda brought a little table over so she could unwrap the present without dropping it. She gasped when the red cloth fell away.
Inside laid the sun catcher of the Painted Lady. Her tiny decorated face stared serenely up at Katara, while her healing waters fed the rainbow of vegetation at her feet. In another panel, she saved a village from a flood, and in yet another, she danced across the surface of a lake.
"How—how did you know that I liked this one?" She lifted the sun catcher so the crowd could see. The torch light glinted off the pieces as they spun slowly from their cords. Zuko smiled up at her, the corners of his lips curling ever so distinctly.
"Lana told me."
Katara gaped and turned her head around to find her maid. The redhead was blushing violently and curtseying. "I saw how it affected you, that first day. I went and saw Zuko secretly even though…I told him how much you liked it, and asked him if he could maybe set it aside for a little while."
The girl stopped talking as the attention of the room fell on her. Katara put the glass art down and went over to her young friend. "Thank you, Lana. I appreciate this so much." Lana looked pleased and embarrassed. Cale was beaming from her side.
Katara turned back to Zuko. "Thank you, again. It's beyond compare." They held each other's eyes for a moment longer, before Zuko bowed and disappeared into the crowd. A final figure took his place.
Master Pakku stood erect, imperious as ever, haughty and a tad disdainful as he contemplated his old student. Katara straightened and lifted her chin in noncommittal response. Master Pakku's severe old face broke into a genial grin. Katara returned the expression. Somewhere behind her, Sokka sighed.
"Master Katara, my Lady of the Setting Sun, I bring to you a small offering with large significance." He raised his arm to reveal a petite vial dangling from a leather hoop. Katara knew exactly what it was. "I once gave you water from the Northern Spirit Oasis when you were young and green in experience. I knew that a gifted waterbender such as yourself would find reason to use it, and you ended up saving Avatar Aang's life during the War of Fire and Water. I offer it to you again, so that you may save more lives in your new home."
He passed the loop over Katara's head. "Your thoughtful brother brought it to my attention that a few of your subjects were suffering from blood tears," he went on, quietly. "I have never before encountered this affliction, but I have no reason to doubt that the Spirit Water will heal them entirely." He smiled at her slightly stricken expression. "Do not fret, my dear. I wasn't exactly the most welcoming of teachers when you arrived. And you have been busy reuniting with family. It's easy to blind oneself to one's duties when family is involved. Do not guilt yourself over forgetting to inquire. You have patients to attend to."
Katara steeled her emotions and nodded once. The two masters bowed deeply to one another, Katara whispering her gratitude.
After all of her gifts had been carefully stowed away with Suki, Katara thanked everyone for a final time, feeling the pull of the moon in her blood. It had been itching under her skin for the past hour, and it was time she answered. She motioned for Sokka to escort her, and together the siblings filed out into the light of the waiting full moon.
Katara and Sokka walked to the white, sandy beach in quiet contemplation under the moon's watchful eye. Katara's thoughts were full of her family and friends, and the persistent thunder of the nearing ocean.
The wild beach spread out before them as they rounded a small hill. The sand mixed with the snow that blew from the edge of the shoreline, and the waves crashed and lilted in great slathers of sea foam. This place was well away from the docks and noise of the village. Only the environment and the strolling pair seemed to exist.
The two of them came to rest right outside of the high tide's reach, and Katara removed her shoes. Sokka stared up at the moon, a faintly mournful veneration in his eyes. Katara squeezed his hand. "You still miss her."
Sokka nodded, mutely. There were no clouds threatening the brightness above. A swath of stars blinked in the navy vault above them, and the moon's benevolent shine mimicked their glittering in the waves below.
"Yue loved her people," Sokka sighed.
"She loved you, too."
"I know. She was too good for me. She was selfless…I was selfish."
Katara remained silent.
"I've changed so much since we knew her. I always felt guilty falling in love with Suki. I felt like I had betrayed Yue. Betrayed her sacrifice."
The ocean hissed in disagreement around their feet. The tide had risen further. Katara looked down at her toes in the water, and back up at the moon—her old friend, Princess Yue. "I don't think she sees it that way, Sokka."
Sokka wiggled his leather clad toes and smiled weakly. "She watches over me. She watches all of us. I think she would have liked Suki."
With nothing more to say, Sokka left Katara with the ocean and his lost princess.
Katara closed her eyes and inhaled the invigorating scent of the cold, salt air, letting the sadness for Sokka shed away. Her blood sang at Yue's touch. "Okay, Yue; let us bend."
Katara raised her arms, her palms over the water, her fingers limp. With another breath, she began to play. She started lightheartedly, fingers wiggling up and down, causing small splashes to erupt from the shallow water at her feet. It looked as though several invisible fish were creating ripples and bubbles in the foam. And then Katara lowered her stance and swept her arms outward to either side of her body.
Great tons of the water split around her position and rushed behind her, up to the scraggly snow-grass that marked where the mainland met the beach. Her arms went over her head and then lowered, her hands crossing before her eyes. With a mighty push, she sent the water speeding back to meet the next crush of waves. A fine mist betokened the collision of water, and Katara laughed as it coated her body and dress.
She strode deeper into the waves, until the water came to her knees. She did not fear for the dress, she would bend the water away later. The sand slid away with each step she took, but Katara held her balance as she felt the way the water moved around her. She smiled up at Yue.
Her next move was to summon water between her hands and render it into a swirling ball. The light of the moon made it look like there were candle flames stuck in the water. Twirling in a graceful circle, Katara sent the ball out toward the ocean. It unfurled like a coil of rope, the end of which Katara kept firmly in her right hand. She pulled it back in a quick snap of her wrist, and spun the end around herself like a lasso.
The ribbon of water gurgled around her as Katara pulled another strand from the ocean with her left hand. She began walking slowly along the beach, rolling her hands in intricate patterns. The single water whip soon formed a braid, which Katara froze into crystalline filigree. She ran her fingers over the frosty creation, loving the way Yue made it sparkle.
Her blood began to surge with the tide, and Katara sent the braid back into the ocean. Absently, she sent large waves crashing far behind her; she created bursts of sea foam to her left and right. She gathered her energies and breathed as Master Pakku had taught her to. She closed her eyes and removed herself from her anxieties: Gisō's distance, Aang's problems, her own self-doubts. It all dripped off of her with the ocean.
She tightened her hold on the Yue's ephemeral vigor, constricting all of the power into a little ball in her belly. Katara squatted in the undulating waves for several fleeting seconds.
When she rose, the water rose with her. Up and up and up, an offering for the Princess of the Northern Water Tribe. Higher the water soared, creating a roaring, spinning vortex around her. Katara laughed and laughed as she stared up at the moon through her kaleidoscope of blues and grays. Her skirts whipped around her legs, the winds buffeted her hair, and frost was forming on her skin.
Katara's eyes began to glaze and her head felt like it was being held under water. She felt light and woozy and detached. She lowered her eyes to peer through the wall of her whirlpool, and she caught the blurry image of a figure in the semi-distance. With the water and Yue protecting her, she did not feel alarmed.
Katara dropped her straining arms. The water fell down around her so promptly, it almost seemed to disappear. She blinked, and Yue had full control of the ocean once more.
"Thank you for letting me breathe, Yue," she whispered. She redirected her strengthening wits to where she had seen the person.
She approached the lone figure while dusting herself free of frost, somewhat unsurprised to see that it was Zuko. She felt her skin warm pleasantly.
"You have a habit of following me," he kidded easily as she greeted him.
Katara pretended to scoff. "Who said she was going to be here after the feast? It is the full moon, after all." His rasping voice was different out here in the clear air. He was different. He was here—Katara felt it was purposefully. Her belly tensed. Very abruptly, before she could think about it, she asked him about his scar.
He threw her a look so malevolent and full of disgust that she was afraid he was going to tell her to leave—that he'd never forgive her.
"I had hoped you'd be one of those whom ignored it." Zuko kicked at the snowy sand and watched her.
Katara's anxiety faded and felt confusion spread over her. She frowned and tilted her head. "Why would I ignore a part of you?"
Zuko ran a hand through his mussed hair. His mouth was open and his brows furrowed. "Lady Katara," he sounded incredulous, "how are you…?"
He left off and remained silent. Katara squirmed under his piercing gaze. "How am I what?"
"How are you like this?"
"What do you mean?"
Zuko seemed to deflate. He swallowed. "Normally, my scar inspires two reactions." He held up a finger. "One, someone voices their curiosity and I tell them. Their curiosity sated, I lose their interest." Zuko strode a few feet away and sat down on a rock. Katara could see his agitation in the way he bounced his leg. He held up a second finger. "Two, pity. Lots and lots of pity. And then I become the object of some twisted battle in a weird perception of morality. A charity case, essentially. Granted, that was more common when I was a kid, but…" He trailed off bitterly, shrugging. "I just tell people I burned it in an art accident."
Katara was at a loss for words. She felt angry. No wonder her genuine curiosity had floored him. The fact that he thought a lie felt better than whatever the truth was made her stomach hurt. She gnawed at her bottom lip a little and stepped closer before whispering, "What really happened?"
Zuko looked up, his hair hanging in his eyes. He blew a strand out of the way, revealing the scar and a haunted expression. "I don't know," he whispered back.
The waves crashed against the shore, breaking the monotony of timid silences. The two figures stared out to the horizon, companionable in their stillness. Katara pondered Zuko's admission as she watched the ocean. Clearly, if Zuko did not know the cause of his scar, then his uncle had not saw fit to tell him. If Zuko did not know, it had happened at an unfortunately young age—his memory could not relieve the mystery. She sighed, frustrated at this revelation.
Katara's attention was eventually drawn to something solid, glinting in the sand. She glided over and picked the shiny thing up. "It's a river stone. I wonder what it's doing here."
Zuko hoisted himself from his perch and came over. "It was probably deposited by a river far from here. Tons of rivers feed into the ocean. Currents could have brought it from anywhere."
The stone was the size of a large chicken egg. The base color was the color of sand, and darker brown flecks freckled it. White tendrils of a different mineral snaked over it, branching out in feather-fine veins. Katara turned it over and over in her hand, enthralled by the moonlight on its surface. Zuko stood close behind her, examining it over her shoulder. She could feel his breath on her hair. It was far warmer than the breeze.
"It's so smooth," she whispered, not moving. The water slid over their feet, eroding the sand beneath. Katara, attention long since taken from the movement of the water, rocked as the sand disappeared. Zuko absently touched her elbow, to steady her. He didn't take his hand away.
"My uncle used to say river stones were like the heart. Both are the purest works of art possible. Both are pushed and pulled, toughened and battered as they journey in the tides of life. And, yet, both are smoothest and loveliest when they finally settle." His fingers slid from her skin.
Katara thought her heart had met a tidal wave.
"I should leave you to your bending."
She half turned, protest poised on her tongue, when she caught his expression. Instead, she pressed her lips together and nodded ever so slightly. "I leave tomorrow."
The ocean hissed over the sand and the breeze whipped up, sending a mist through the air. Katara shivered. Zuko remained still, and gazed up at the moon. "Then I say good-bye," his yellow eyes—eerily bleached in the moon's grace—swept over her face, as if memorizing it. "Take care of yourself, my Lady." He saluted her neatly, and left.
"Good-bye."
The river stone was still clutched in her hand.
