Chapter Eight
"From now on, we do this my way," Zuko announced intractably, "My bison. My trip. My rules."
The last twelve hours had been perilous and wearisome. Following the attack on Kyoshi Island, they had flown straight through, cutting a path across the Earth Kingdom towards the North Pole, hoping to draw Admiral Zhao after them and lose him at the same time. They accomplished both goals, but not without great cost to themselves. By the time they stopped for the evening, the first time since fleeing Kyoshi that morning, all four teens, bison and lemur were thoroughly exhausted with barely enough energy to set up camp for the evening and enjoy a meager dinner.
However, it was just as they were all beginning to head their separate ways to bed down for the night that Zuko made his statement. There was a certain expectation in his tone that could not be ignored. Albeit with extreme grumpiness, everyone obliged Zuko's unspoken request and returned to their vacated spots, favoring the somber faced Avatar with rapt attention. "I know that sounds harsh," Zuko followed up a moment later, "but I think it's about time we established some ground rules."
"What did you have in mind?" Sokka asked around a broad yawn.
Delving right into the heart of the matter, Zuko declared implacably, "My main objective is to make it to the North Pole so that I can learn waterbending. It's not to have fun," he went on with a meaningful look directed towards Aang, "not to make friends or see new places," he added with yet another at Katara, "but to find a waterbending master so that I can take the first step in fulfilling my destiny."
"We already know this, Zuko," Katara interjected softly.
"I need to you to more than know it," he told her. "I need you to support me, Katara. If you're going to make this journey with me, then you're going to have to do things my way, otherwise…" he let the prelude hang before he finally added, "…maybe I should make it alone."
"Wait. Are you saying you don't want us to go with you?" Sokka balked in whispered surprise.
"That's not it," Zuko reassured him, "I don't have problem with you traveling with me, but I want to have my decisions respected from this point on." He didn't elaborate on how he felt his feelings had been disrespected, but the steady look of resentment he was leveling at Aang right then was more than enough explanation.
Ostensibly unbothered by Zuko's glaring scrutiny, Aang casually fed Momo a handful of berries and before tipping back his head to regard Zuko. "So what you're saying is basically…we do what you want or we can take a hike?" he paraphrased bluntly. "Is that the gist of it?"
"The gist of it is that this is my destiny," Zuko retorted with a narrowed glared. "If you want to come along, you're going to have to play by my rules."
"Good grief," Sokka groaned, "Are you guys going to fight the whole way to the North Pole?"
Aang emitted a short, exasperated laugh. "I don't want to fight," he refuted, "I'm just concerned about the agenda Zuko is pushing, that's all."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Zuko flashed out hotly, "What agenda?"
"You say you want to get to the North Pole so you can fulfill your destiny," Aang remarked somewhat disbelievingly, "and I'm sure part of that is true. But, I'm starting to think a bigger part of you just wants to become powerful enough so you can destroy the Fire Nation completely."
"Um…isn't that kind of the point, Aang?" Sokka wondered aloud. "The Fire Nation is the reason this war is even happening. When they're defeated, the war ends. It's as simple as that."
"I don't disagree with that," Aang replied mildly. "The Fire Nation does need to be defeated, not annihilated. Those are two very different things and I'm not sure which goal Zuko has in mind." He met Zuko's irate stare squarely. "Are you out for justice or revenge?" he demanded bluntly. "I need to know who I'm standing behind."
"No one asked you to be here," Zuko pointed out.
"True," Aang conceded, "But after spending the last three years searching for a way to end three generations of selfish dictatorship, I'd rather not help usher in yet another one. You'll forgive me if I'm concerned. So tell me," he pressed on, "what's your motivation, Zuko? Do you want justice for the world or revenge for yourself?"
"What you call revenge, I consider retribution," Zuko shot back angrily, "and those are two very different things. Don't my people deserve that? Or should I just put the genocide of my nation aside for the sake of being fair to yours?"
"You're condemning an entire nation for the acts of just a few!" Aang flung out in frustrated allegation.
"You mean kind of like how your great grandfather destroyed all my people just to get to me and your nation just stood by and let it happen," Zuko considered flatly. "I'm sorry if I can't be more sympathetic."
"But you have to be!" Aang retorted, "You talk about your responsibilities as the Avatar, well…being neutral…being objective is part of that!"
"What do you know about it? You don't have the faintest idea what it means to be the Avatar!" Zuko scoffed.
"Neither do you!" Aang fired back, effectively shocking Zuko into silence. He quickly took advantage of the lull, softening his tone when he said, "You've been given an incredible gift, Zuko. You have all the power in the universe at your fingertips and you have to balance that with wisdom and compassion or you'll be no better than the Firelords that perpetuated this war!"
"You're not being fair, Aang," Katara interrupted softly, sympathizing with both their arguments, but understanding Zuko's point of view most clearly. "His entire race was wiped out by the Fire Nation," she went on, "His culture was destroyed. His home was desecrated. That is an incredible loss and he's had less than two weeks to adjust to that. How do you expect him to feel?"
Aang swallowed, mentally counting to ten before he spoke again. "I know it's been hard for him," he sighed after a beat of silence, "and I'm not trying to imply that his loss is a trivial one, but—,"
"Well, if you know it's not trivial then stop trying to tell me how to manage my grief!" Zuko snapped harshly, "I don't expect you to understand what I'm going through! You can't even imagine what it's like waking up every morning and knowing that you are the last of your kind!
"That's my life," Zuko spat out bitterly, "And then I look at you and remember exactly why I'm the last and you have the nerve to sit here and argue on your nation's behalf after that? Just stop it! Maybe it's easy for you to shrug off what your people did and say get over it for the sake of peace or justice or whatever because you're not the one suffering. But I wonder how you would feel if you were in my place," he challenged thickly, "What would you do if you were the last Firebender and my people were the reason? Would you still be preaching about how wrong it is to want revenge or would you want it just as badly as I do?"
"I don't know…" Aang whispered gruffly. "I don't know what I would do or how I would feel and, honestly, I don't ever want to find out. I don't want what happened to your people to happen to mine."
The words, while free of judgment, still had a lacerating effect nonetheless. Zuko actually felt tears burn the back of his throat at the quivering sadness he heard in Aang's tone. He was waging an internal battle within himself, walking a tightrope in his efforts to maintain a balance between what the monks had taught him and the all-consuming hatred that pervaded every pore of his body and thoughts. He was suffocating with hatred for the Fire Nation and for himself. He was dying emotionally. And what was worse, Zuko feared becoming the very thing he despised, and he seemed powerless to stop it.
Zuko didn't want to repeat the mistakes of the past. His intentions were pure. He desperately wanted to become the Avatar that Gyatso had believed he could become. But the desire to do the right thing and sentiment could only go so far when the rage inside him was quickly growing into a tangible thing. Like a malevolent entity, it thrived within his heart, alive, breathing and consuming him one piece at a time. He was being swept along in the tide of his bitterness, having lost control the moment he discovered he was alone in the world.
"I've made my feelings clear," he told Aang finally, betraying none of the turmoil rolling around inside him, "if you can't accept that, then you should walk away."
Aang shook his head, disillusioned and determined all at once. "I'm not going to walk away from you," he said. "Eventually, you'll need to learn firebending and I want to be available to you when you're ready."
Zuko nodded his wordless acceptance of that, neither elated nor disappointed by Aang's answer. "Good. We should all get some sleep then. I want to resume our journey at first light."
However, as Aang stretched out on his pallet, he found sleep to be elusive. He was frustrated with himself for not dealing with Zuko better. But more than that, he was frightened and uncertain and feeling a little lost. Even while he heartily disagreed with Zuko's thoughts, he had to admit that the Avatar had made several valid points as well.
On one hand, he honestly couldn't see how repaying the Fire Nation evil for evil would change anything. Such actions wouldn't bring back the Air Nomads or restore the Southern Waterbenders. It would only result in more bloodshed, more bitterness and grief and more death. But, on the other hand, if he were personally faced with the horror of losing his entire nation, Aang honestly didn't know if he could be objective about the whole thing. He would probably thirst for revenge as well.
The hatred would be intense. Considering that, how could he possibly condemn Zuko for feeling what he did? Though Zuko was the Avatar and entrusted with the responsibility of caring for the entire world, at his core he was still made of flesh and blood like everyone else. He was still an angry, lonely, grief-stricken thirteen year old boy and the reality he'd been dealt after a 100 year's sleep was a reality Aang didn't even want to contemplate. He didn't even want to try. Who was to say Zuko had to be objective after all that? Did the Fire Nation even deserve objectivity anymore? Aang didn't have the answers.
He didn't know what Zuko should do. He only knew that, were he in the Avatar's place, he'd try to let it go because Aang could recognize that, in punishing the Fire Nation, he'd be punishing himself just as much.
But that was his personal philosophy and who was to say he was right about that either? Despite being the oldest in the group and, presumably, the most world weary, Aang had absolutely no idea what he was doing and the irony was that he'd been planning for this moment since he was 12 years old. But now that he had finally achieved the thing he had dreamed about incessantly for three years, he was failing miserably. He was one of four teenagers on a journey that could literally decide the fate of the whole world and he was likely the only one in the group capable of some small bit of objectivity. However, that wasn't saying much because his objectivity, especially when it came to his nation, would always be chalked up as favoritism. Aang couldn't seem to figure out how to appeal to Zuko without alienating the boy in the process.
He missed his Uncle Iroh.
The former Fire Nation general would definitely know the right things to say to Zuko, just like he'd always known the right things to say to his nephew. Aang desperately needed his brand of calm, simplistic wisdom right about then. What had he been thinking to even consider making this journey without his uncle in the first place? Barely two weeks in and it was already a complete disaster!
Too depressed to sleep and filled with a curious sense of dread, Aang finally gave up the effort and rolled to his feet. Tiptoeing past his slumbering comrades, Aang padded to the outskirts of their campsite and found a secluded spot beneath the foliage of a large, gnarled tree. He folded himself down near the base of it and contemplated the fathomless night before him, waiting and hoping for answers that would not come. He was so preoccupied that he didn't notice Katara creeping behind him until she was seated right next to him. Surprised and a little wary, Aang acknowledged her with a faint smile.
"Hey," he greeted simply.
"Hey," she replied. "You can't sleep either?"
"I'm normally restless."
"Is it that or are you still thinking about what Zuko said earlier?" Katara pressed intuitively. However, she was already reassuring him before he'd even made a reply. "You can't take what he said to you personally. He's just hurting right now."
"I'm not taking it personally," Aang reassured her. "I know it's not me he has a problem with. I'm a convenient target. I just wish that everything I said to him didn't always come out so wrong."
"It's not you. He's a little hard to know," Katara confided, "Even Sokka and I have a difficult time getting him to let his guard down sometimes. He's trying to protect himself."
"I know that."
"Then you probably know that what you said to him earlier was a little unfair," Katara admonished mildly. She had told him as much previously, but apparently, she felt the subject needed a bit of elaboration and she gave it to him. "You can't just expect him to be automatically impartial about the Fire Nation after what they've done to him. You need to give him some time." Aang nibbled his lower lip pensively, not bothering to defend himself or make excuses because he'd reached that same conclusion on his own earlier. "I'm not sure if you know this, but…my mother was killed in a Fire Nation raid," Katara disclosed.
"I didn't know all the details," Aang told her.
"I was eight when it happened," she whispered, "but it feels like yesterday." She closed her eyes briefly, trembling slightly as if shaking off the bad feelings the memory brought with it. "I think if my mom's death is still that fresh to me, what must it feel like for Zuko?" She turned her head to regard Aang solemnly, her blue eyes glittering in the darkness. "Try to remember that, okay?"
Aang nodded. "I'll remember," he promised gruffly. He expected her to leave him then, but she didn't. Instead, she continued to loiter there, as if she had more to say. Eventually, she whispered his name. "What?"
"I think Zuko was wrong about you too," she said after a few, awkward beats of silence.
"How's that?"
"It's true that there's no way you could understand what Zuko is going through," Katara prefaced, "None of us can understand, but…I doubt you've lived an easy life either." Neither confirming nor denying her theory, Aang merely blinked at her. Checking the impulse to squirm under his steady gaze, Katara blurted, "So, um…are they true?"
"Is what true?"
"The stories I've heard," Katara clarified haltingly, "a-about…well, you know…"
"You mean about my face?" he finished for her kindly.
Katara reddened with shamed embarrassment, dropping her eyes. She picked at the furred fringe of her tunic. "I'm sorry. You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to," she assured him.
"It's okay," he reassured her, "People always have questions. I'm used to it."
Despite the invitation, however, she couldn't quite meet his eyes when she asked, "Did your father really do that to you?" Aang nodded slowly and the confirmation caused sympathetic tears to spring to Katara's eyes. She whimpered a bit. "Oh, Aang, that's terrible." She couldn't imagine her own father ever doing such a thing. She couldn't imagine either of her parents doing such a thing. She had never felt anything but loved and protected with them. It made Katara wonder what kind of horrible household Aang had been raised in if he'd had to endure such cruelty.
He recoiled from the pity he spied in her eyes. "Don't do that," he dismissed lightly, "Don't look at me like I'm a kicked turtleduck. It happened a long time ago and I survived. I try not to think about it much because…well, it kind of bums me out."
"No kidding," she muttered, "But how…" She trailed off into abrupt silence, refraining from voicing the remainder of the question. She wanted to know how he could possibly avoid thinking about it when the reminder was literally branded into his face, but the query seemed rude and so she bit it back.
Aang, though, seemed to intuitively sense where she was going in spite of her silence, yet he wasn't offended. Rather he smiled at her sweetly. "It's pretty awful looking, huh?" he prodded wryly.
"Not so awful," Katara hedged dishonestly.
He laughed at her sugarcoating attempt. "You're a terrible liar."
"I know. I'm sorry," she mumbled in apology. She seemed to be saying that to him a lot, but the need was almost compulsive, especially with him being so good-natured about the whole thing.
"Don't be sorry," he told her. "I made peace with how I look a while back. It's ugly. I know it. I live with it. But this scar doesn't reflect the person I am on the inside, Katara, and it never has."
"I'm beginning to see that," Katara whispered.
He offered her a crooked grin. "Besides," he dismissed flippantly, "once you get to know me better, you'll barely even notice it. I've had people tell me it practically disappears for them. In a couple of weeks you'll be like, 'whoa, what scar?'"
Katara surveyed the ring of puckered, red flesh surrounding his eye and creeping over the ridge of his upper cheekbone, and had a difficult time imagining that it could ever disappear for her. She didn't think that merely because it was disfiguring and stark, but mostly because of how he'd received it. She could never forget that. "Aaah, well…I don't know, Aang…"
"I'm just messing around with you," Aang laughed. "Are you always so serious?"
She gaped at him, as much for his attitude as for the marvelous and amazing way his face transformed when he smiled. The change was radical. He practically glowed. Maybe Aang was right about the scar fading as she got to know him after all. She could believe it was possible. When he smiled like that, it was almost all she could see.
"How do you do that?" Katara wondered, half amazed, half incredulous at his response, "How do you laugh about something so awful?"
"Haven't you figured out by now that I don't take anything seriously, Katara?"
"I don't believe that," she refuted.
"How do you know?" he challenged.
"You spent three years searching for the Avatar, that's why," she answered simply. "You've been all over the world and I can't imagine you were well received, but you never stopped trying. So don't try to fool me. I know there are things you take seriously, Aang."
"Well, maybe a few things…" he conceded with a small smile.
"So how did it happen?" she asked tentatively when quiet finally settled between them. "Did your father just attack you? Was it an accident? Did you have an argument?"
"I guess you could say it was an argument," Aang considered. "Honestly, this," he went on, gesturing to his scar, "was the first time my father and I had ever truly disagreed on anything. I learned the hard way what happens when someone crosses him. That's when I finally realized he wasn't the man I thought he was. Actually, that realization was harder to deal with than the disfigurement."
Katara settled herself against the tree in preparation for his story. "How do you mean?"
"You see, until that day, my father never had anything but encouraging words for me. We actually had a good relationship…once," Aang recounted softly, "I'm somewhat gifted at firebending. By the time I was three, I was at the top of my class. My dad nurtured my talent. He even enlisted my uncle as my private instructor so I could hone my skills. He always encouraged me to practice and he gave me tips on my form. He was never harsh with me…had nothing but high praise for me. He seemed so proud and I wanted to prove to him that I was worthy of that pride. I worked very, very hard to please him.
"I didn't get to see him much," he went on in explanation, "The Firelord is a very busy man so, on the occasions when he was home or when he had time for us, I went out of my way to wow him. My sister and I were always competing for his attention and approval and having it meant everything to us."
"So what happened?"
"I overheard something I didn't like." His expression became distant and preoccupied, as if he was no longer seated next to her on the cliff-side, but instead 12 years old again and about to embark on a course of action that would forever change his life. "I'd always had problems with the war," Aang began softly. "I knew nothing of it from your perspective, but I could see the way it was ravaging my own nation. I had friends whose brothers and sisters and aunts and uncles wouldn't come home for months at a time, sometimes years. Some didn't come home at all," he finished sadly, "Like my cousin Lu Ten. He died during the Siege of Ba Sing Se.
"I couldn't understand why my father, who was supposed to be the most powerful man in the world, couldn't put an end to the war once and for all," Aang went on. "I decided to find out for myself during my father's next war meeting, but when I asked him if I could attend, he said no. He said I was too young and that I needed to focus on my training."
"What did you do?" Katara asked, having a difficult time believing Aang simply left it at that.
That theory clearly played its way across her features and provoked an amused grin from Aang. "What do you think I did?" he countered.
Considering everything she'd learned about him in the short time they'd been acquainted, Katara arrived at the answer rather easily. "You found another way," she said.
"Yep, I did," Aang confirmed with a bittersweet sigh. "I went to my uncle and explained the problem. At first, he tried to discourage me, but I kept pestering him until he relented. Finally, he showed me the secret hiding place he'd had as a boy where he used to listen in on his father's war meetings. He said I could hide there only if I promised to keep quiet, so I promised him.
"What I learned in that meeting turned everything I'd ever believed upside down," Aang revealed, "I learned that day that all those brothers and sisters and aunts and uncles and…cousins were expendable to the Fire Nation military. They were a means to an end and nothing more.
"I was horrified and angry, but I kept my promise to my uncle and remained quiet," he recounted, "After it was over though, I went to my father and confronted him about what I'd heard." Aang frowned at the memory. "At first he was annoyed with me, but when he realized I wasn't letting it go, he said I was too young to understand. He said that one day I would see the design behind such decisions when I became Firelord. I told him that I would never be that type of Firelord. I said I would never mistreat my people that way. It was the wrong thing to say to him.
"As far as he was concerned, I had shown him blatant disrespect as his son and as a Fire Nation citizen," Aang told Katara, "He told me that if I had the audacity to question his rule that perhaps it was because I thought I could do better. He challenged me to a firebending duel, an Agni Kai." Katara gasped in horror. "In retrospect, I think he just meant to cow me. I don't think he actually expected me to accept, but I did. I was twelve years old and I was cocky and sure of myself. I thought if I could prove to my father that I had the courage to stand behind my convictions that maybe I could change his mind and get him to see things from my point of view as well. I thought I would earn his respect."
"But you were wrong," Katara concluded gruffly.
"I was very wrong," he confirmed with a nod. "I had basically challenged his sovereignty as ruler before the entire Fire Nation. I had shamed and disgraced our family. He couldn't let that stand. He had to make an example of me. I can understand that intellectually now, but emotionally…I still struggle with the fact he actually went through with it. He came at me like I was his enemy, not his son.
"I remember when it was over and I was on the floor, in absolutely the most excruciating pain of my life, and he came to stand over me. I was crying for him. Even after what he'd just done, I wanted him to comfort me, but he didn't touch me at all. Instead, he leaned over me and said that the only reason he hadn't killed me was for sentiment, because I was his son and he…loved me. But then he told me that if I ever crossed him again, he wouldn't be so generous…and then he walked away."
"Oh, Aang…" Katara uttered, caught between tears and anger over the story. She hurt for him intensely, even as her hatred for the Firelord doubled.
"When I woke up, my uncle was there," Aang continued, "He was crying. Apparently, I'd been out of it for three or four days. I don't really remember. What I do remember is asking for my father. I wanted to know if he'd come to see me and Uncle said he hadn't. I think that's when I made my decision to leave. It wasn't anything I'd really thought about prior to that moment, but when I found out that my father hadn't even come to visit me while I recovered, I had to face what kind of man he was. I knew I couldn't stay there. I told my uncle I wanted to leave and that night, after I said the necessary goodbyes, we left. I haven't been home since."
"What about your mother?" Katara burst out, "Where was she? Why didn't she do anything to stop it?"
"My mother left us when I was ten years old," Aang replied, "just shortly before my father was crowned Firelord."
"That's so awful, Aang."
He noticed the way she was looking at him then, as if he were some lost, lonely, pitiful waif. Aang was as touched by her compassion as he was mildly amused by it. "I told you don't feel sorry for me," he reminded her with a careless smile, "I haven't had a terrible life. I've only had a handful of bad things happen to me, but for the most part, I've been happy. I am happy. I've seen the world and made friends in every place that I've visited. I had the opportunity to see firsthand the ravages this war has caused and it only fueled my determination to find the Avatar."
"And that's exactly what you did," Katara commended him proudly.
"Actually you and Sokka found him," Aang corrected with a grin, "but the end result was the same, so I'm not complaining. I'm grateful for everything that's happened to me."
"You're kidding!" Katara guffawed softly.
"I'm serious," he insisted, "If I'd never challenged my father that day, I probably would have never found out what kind of man he was until it was too late. I definitely wouldn't be here with you guys right now and…" He stared at her, his gaze luminous in the moonlight. "I wouldn't have met you, Katara."
She smiled at him. "I'm glad we met too, Aang," she whispered in reply to his unspoken sentiment. "I…I think things worked out the way they were supposed to. You were meant to be here with us."
Aang glanced over to where Sokka and Zuko still slept, bathed in the ocher light of the flickering fire, one soundly asleep and the other obviously plagued by nightmares. "I think you're right, Katara," he sighed in agreement as he suddenly recognized the greater purpose he had in being there, more than simply teaching the Avatar to firebend. Aang suspected he was there to help him heal emotionally as well. "I was meant to be here."
