Chapter Nine

"I know you're there. You might as well come out and say hello."

Aang froze at Katara's flat intonation, pretty certain he had been found out in that moment but maintaining his concealed position behind a misshapen block of ice nonetheless. On impulse, he had followed her to the outskirts of an abandoned fishing village, miles away from her home, to watch her train. He knew her brother had warned her to be more careful, so now she had taken to making a 3 mile long hike away from her home village in order to practice her bending.

He watched her through a small hole he had bored through the icy partition. Currently, her brow was furrowed in concentration as she worked to perfect the snap of her waterwhip. She had long since discarded her heavy outer coat, impervious to the cold now due to her strenuous workout. Aang admired her fortitude and determination. She was clearly frustrated with herself. That was clear by the intermittent and self-deprecating curses she muttered under her breath whenever she failed in her execution, but she never gave up.

As Aang watched her train amid the ragged remnants of glistening walls of ice and shapeless lumps of compacted snow, he couldn't help but note the marked contrast between the quiet and demure Katara she was among her family and the fierce, free Katara she became when she was bending. Of course, he never once mentioned to her that he'd seen both sides of her. But that was only scratching the surface. Aang didn't really know much about her beyond that outward persona and the few times he had seen her bend. Though technically they'd exchanged several pleasantries and had limited conversation on a daily basis, Aang didn't really know her in the truest sense of the word. That was something he definitely wanted to change.

Watching her bend was quickly becoming a favorite pastime for Aang even though this was only the second time he had seen her do it. That mattered little though because, since that first time, the Water-Tribe girl had held his undivided attention. When Aang wasn't occupied with his own training, he was listening to her speak, studying her movements, drinking in each small gesture she made and all the while wondering why everything about her seemed so natural and familiar to him. There was something innate in her that beckoned him, something that went far beyond her name, although four days after learning it Aang was still grappling with his shock.

He knew that his dream Katara had been named after her great-grandmother and that the same great-grandmother had been born in the Northern Water Tribe. His Katara's history was chronicled in his memory banks. But what were the odds that he had found Katara's relative, especially with the Northern Water Tribe being as vast as it was? The chances seemed improbable, but Aang couldn't ignore the feelings of familiarity this Katara stirred within him.

Regrettably, he wasn't afforded with much time to puzzle over the mystery. Most of Aang's waking hours were dedicated to mastering water. True to his word, Akycha was the very definition of unconventional. He trained at odd hours and was often times easily distracted, but he was an excellent strategist, quick, adept and clever. He liked to have fun, but when he was serious then he was serious and he expected Aang to work and work hard. So, while Aang learned to ice surf and ice board, he also learned to use waterbending as an extension of his body, to become one with the element rather than merely wield it. It was Akycha's aim that Aang use waterbending with the same ease and skill with which he used his native element.

Aang was a diligent student and his mastery over the element came rapidly. That was due, partly to Akycha's teaching methods and partly to the innate knowledge Aang already possessed about the discipline. He could remember clearly the lessons that Pakku and Katara had taught him from his dreams and he used those lessons to his advantage. His progress was so swift, in fact, that Chief Kulitak and Gyatso feared they might need to secure a location for him to train with Master Cui much sooner than anticipated. It was a particular worry for the men because, with the comet only literal days away, it would be extremely dangerous to venture outside of the Water-Tribe's protective walls.

With that fact never far from his thoughts, Aang was naturally under a great deal of stress and pressure. He knew that there wasn't much he could do to handle Sozin at the moment, not when he still had two other elements to learn and master and not while he was still without a firebending instructor. He tried to keep all of that in perspective, but the knowledge only heightened his anxiety. He would have liked to have taken his worries to Gyatso, since his mentor had always provided a listening ear, but Gyatso was usually bickering with Master Cui or tied up with Chief Kulitak.

While the former provided Aang with some degree of wry amusement because he had never seen anyone fluster Gyatso the way Cui did, the latter usually left him depressed because he was very aware that Gyatso and Kulitak were preparing for the attack they knew would come on the Northern Water Tribe once the comet arrived. It was yet another thing on a long list for which Aang felt culpable. He desperately needed someone to tell him that it would be okay. But Gyatso was busy and Aang didn't want to burden him. Akycha, while he was nice and jovial, didn't particularly strike Aang as a confidante. Not yet, not when they were still getting to know one another.

And that pretty much exhausted Aang's options for talking out his fears. Consequently, after his training session with Akycha that morning, he had spent his time piddling around the house that Chief Kulitak had generously provided, completely bored out of his mind when he wasn't worried sick about what was to come. When it got to the point where Aang felt he was going to either jump out of his skin or go completely nuts, he had taken his glider to the rooftop with the idea that he might soar around the city for a few hours to clear his head. It was while he was peering down at the gleaming city that he had spotted her sneaking out of her house at mid-day. Aang hadn't made a conscious decision to follow her in that moment, but the next thing he knew, he had thrown open his glider and began trailing behind her under the cover of cloud.

He had never imagined that she suspected he was there at all, but when she suddenly dropped her stance, plunked her hands on her hips and demanded that he show himself, Aang knew that the jig was up. He heard the muted sound of her footsteps as she glided closer and, for one frantic second, he seriously considered making a run for it. Aang held his breath and carefully reached for his staff when her voice reached him once more.

"Come on," she cajoled, "There's no use in hiding anymore. I know it's you, Avatar Aang."

Suppressing the self-deprecating groan that rumbled in his chest, Aang took a deep breath and ducked from behind the ice that had been concealing most of him from her view. It wasn't the first time they had been face to face since he arrived, but it was the first time they had ever been alone together. Aang couldn't imagine why that fact mattered to him so much, but it did.

"Hi," he greeted her rather awkwardly, "Nice weather we're having, huh?"

"What are you doing here?"

Aang reddened with embarrassment. "Would you believe me if I told you that I was lost?"

"Did my brother send you here to spy on me?" Katara demanded tartly, "Is he that paranoid?"

"Master Akycha didn't send me out here. I saw you leaving earlier and I was curious about where you were going since…I've seen you bend before," he finished in a pregnant whisper.

Katara gasped sharply, her countenance draining of color momentarily before she schooled her features into a remote mask. "Oh," she replied almost conversationally, "I suppose I'd be overstepping my bounds if I asked you not to tell my father what you've seen here today, wouldn't I?"

"I won't say a word to your father, Katara," Aang promised.

Katara deflated with a relieved sigh, every ounce of tension draining from her body. "Thank you, Avatar Aang," she whispered fervently after she had collected herself again, "Thank you so much."

"You don't have to thank me," he told her softly, "It's not my place to say anything. And please, call me Aang. 'Avatar Aang' makes me feel like you're talking about a hundred year old man. I'm just a kid from the Southern Air Temple."

"I think we both know that you're more than just a kid," Katara refuted quietly, "But thank you again, Aang. I didn't know what to think when I realized you were out here."

"How did you know?" he asked, "I didn't make a single sound!"

"Not to knock your powers of stealth but…I saw a flash of your tunic," she explained with a wry smile, "Orange and red tend to be pretty sharp contrast colors out here where everything is blinding white. Your clothing gives you away."

Aang dropped his eyes and blushed hotly, suddenly feeling incredibly silly. That was the last thing he wanted to appear in her eyes. "Oh." Though it took a considerable amount of effort, he managed to find the courage to peek at Katara from beneath his lashes. She was smiling at him with a mixture of puzzlement and amusement, but there were no traces of disdain on her expression…or anger. Aang relaxed a little.

"Aren't…Aren't you mad at me for following you like I did?" He rushed on before she had the opportunity to answer him. "I…I want you to know that I don't make a habit of watching you or anything…" he rambled frenetically, only to redden more when it dawned on him what an absolute lie that was. "Er…well…not much anyway," he amended in a sheepish mumble.

To his everlasting surprise, she smiled rather than scowling in annoyance. "It's okay. I'm not angry with you. I was more upset by the idea that you had been sent to spy on me than anything else. Besides, it's not like I don't watch you train with my brother all the time, so I guess we're even."

"That's different. You're not sneaking around and ducking behind ice boulders and… Wait…" He bit off in the middle of his self-castigation as a goofy grin began to spread across his face. "You watch me?"

"Don't look so cocky," she laughed, "If I don't watch you, how else am I supposed to steal your bending moves?"

Aang deflated a little. "Oh. Right."

"I am curious though. Why would the Avatar be interested in watching me practice?"

"I have a better question," Aang countered softly, "Does anyone besides your brother, and now me, know how good you are?"

"No, they don't!" she retorted with a sharp glower, "And I'd like to keep it that way if it's all the same to you!" Yet, mere seconds after she had issued the tart decree, the fierceness melted from Katara's countenance and was replaced with shaky vulnerability. "You really think I'm good?"

Aang didn't know whether be laugh or cringe over the dramatic shifts in her mood. "I do. But I don't know how much my opinion counts in the long run."

"It counts a lot. You're the Avatar," she said, "You're probably one of the best benders I've ever seen. I don't think I've ever known someone who learns as fast as you."

He dropped his gaze with the compliment. "It's no big deal. Gyatso tells me that as the Avatar I've already mastered the four elements a thousand times in a thousand other lifetimes, so maybe that's why." Of course, Aang knew that his proficiency was due to a great deal more than that, but that was hardly something he could share with others. "When you look at it like that, maybe there's nothing so special about me after all," he said lightly.

Katara appraised him with a laughing look. "Nah. I think it's you. I can tell. I sense you're filled with much wisdom." Aang grunted in response to that. "I'm being serious. You're going to make one powerful waterbender someday." Her features became shuttered as she added in a mournful mumble, "I'd like to be a powerful waterbender someday but that's never going to happen."

"Why not? Seems like you're already on your way to me."

"You already know why," she emphasized, "Women are forbidden to learn waterbending here. My place is in the healing tent." There was an unmistakable bitterness in the last line of her sentence. She virtually spat it out.

"Have you ever thought about going someplace else to train?"

A far off look settled in Katara's eyes, confirming that she had dreamed of running away on several occasions, but all too quickly that hopeful light that swirled in their blue depths dimmed. "I couldn't do that. I couldn't leave my brother. I'm all he has since our mother died last winter."

"Master Akycha seems like he can handle himself."

"It's complicated."

"Well, maybe it would be less complicated if you told your father what you're doing," Aang suggested quietly, "He might surprise you, Katara."

"Not a chance. You don't know my father," she sighed sadly. She shivered, feeling the cold now that her heart rate had returned to normal and her adrenaline was no longer pumping. Katara stooped to retrieve her fur-lined coat and shrugged into it before turning to address him again. "No offense, Aang, but you've been here less than a week. You don't know how it works in my world. My father is a respected man who comes from a respected family. And we have an image to uphold. He would be ashamed if he knew what I was doing. He would disown me and disown Akycha. Even if I could bear that for myself, I can't do that to my brother."

"Have you tried talking to him?"

Katara shook her head, a humorless smile turning at the corners of her mouth. "I don't have the relationship with him that you obviously have with Monk Gyatso. Not everyone has that, Aang."

"So you're just going to keep doing this in secret?"

Guilt and shame chased their way across Katara's face. "I know I should stop," she lamented, "I know that I'm risking everything, but it's inside of me… I'm so much more than a healer. In my heart, I'm a warrior too. When I ignore that part of me, it feels like I'm denying who I am."

"That's because you are."

"But I have a duty and a responsibility to uphold my family's name," she considered, "I want to preserve my mother's legacy. I want to make her proud of me…and I won't do that if I bring shame to my family."

"You've said all of that, but you're still training, Katara," Aang pointed out softly, "Obviously, it must be worth the risk for you to learn."

She jerked her gaze aside, presenting him with her stony profile. "Or maybe I'm just selfish."

"I don't think you're selfish."

Katara frowned. "And I don't know why I'm telling you all of this."

"You mean because I'm a little kid?" Aang surmised glumly.

"I mean because I hardly know you," she clarified wryly, "So why is it so easy to tell you all of these things I've never shared with another soul before?"

"Maybe it's because I'm a good listener."

Katara choked out a short laugh. "And modest too." She folded down onto the snowy ground and then invited Aang to do the same. When he was seated alongside her, she pulled down the high collar of her tunic, revealing the gleaming betrothal necklace she wore beneath. "This is why," she whispered, "This is why I can't run away and become a waterbender."

"You're getting married?" Aang wasn't prepared for how the revelation would gut punch him and, for a second, he felt winded and unable to catch his breath.

"Soon," Katara confirmed, "Technically, it should have happened last winter after I turned sixteen, but…my betrothed had to be away for six months and it was postponed. Now, the time has come for me to fulfill my duty."

Aang stared down at his folded hands. "Do you love him?"

"I could love him one day," Katara considered, "He's a good man."

"Does he know what you can do?"

"No one besides you and Akycha know what I can do."

"How could you possibly be happy that way?"

"Happiness is a relative term. You'll learn that for yourself soon enough."

"If you say so."

Realizing that they were gliding down a slippery slope and wanting to change the subject, Katara said, "Enough about me. Tell me something about you. How are you enjoying your time here in the Northern Water Tribe?"

"It's good…I guess."

"That didn't sound very convincing," Katara teased him, "Are you feeling homesick?"

"Not really. The last few months at the Southern Air Temple haven't been all that great for me," he mumbled in confession, "If it weren't for Gyatso, I don't know what I would have done."

"What was so bad about it?"

"Ever since the monks told me that I was the Avatar, nothing in my life has been the same. It's like…my destiny was decided right then and there and I had to go with it. No questions asked."

"Tell me about it," Katara sighed in commiseration.

"It's been better since I came here though," he told her, "I feel freer…but I worry more than ever."

"Is that because of the comet?"

Aang nodded. "I know that once it arrives, Sozin is going to use it to attack my people. He might even use it to attack your people here in the North Pole, all so he can get to me. It will be all my fault."

"It's not your fault," she refuted fiercely, "You're not responsible for Firelord Sozin's choices. You're doing exactly what you're supposed to do and that's all you can do."

"What if it's not enough?"

Katara reached over and took hold of his hands, giving his fingers a gentle squeeze. The instant she did that, Aang flashed back to more than a dozen dizzying scenes of his Katara doing the exact same thing, smiling at him with the exact same smile. He suddenly felt lightheaded with the implication. Katara, on the other hand, mistook his sudden loss of color and clammy appearance for generalized anxiety.

"It's going to be okay," she reassured him, "Your people know what's coming. So do mine. They will prepare and they will survive. You have to believe that."

He couldn't speak to her, couldn't find the ability to even form the words. His entire world shrank to a pinpoint where only she existed. In that moment, Aang felt as if he was looking far beyond Katara's physical exterior, down to her very spirit…and he recognized it. He recognized her. The realization left him breathless…and almost paralyzed with disbelief.

"Okay, that's it!" Katara exclaimed, snagging hold of his wrist and tugging him forward as she rolled to her feet, "I'm not going to let you sit out here and mope!"

Aang stared up at her and it was like he was seeing her for the very first time. When he looked at her, he saw his Katara staring back at him, her smile kind and reassuring, her signature hair loopies being teased in the wafting breeze. He saw her eyes. But more than that, Aang saw the girl he loved.

"I'm not moping, Katara," he denied in a rather dazed tone, "In fact, I feel pretty happy right now."

Katara grimaced, puzzled by the bemused look on his face. "Why are you smiling at me like that?"

Belatedly, Aang caught himself mid-grin and quickly straightened. "Oh? I was smiling?"

He knew he couldn't run with this. There was no plausible way that he could explain to her that he believed she was the great-grandmother of the girl he was in love with or that he couldconvince her that the same girl was very likely her spiritual reincarnation. Yeah…that wouldn't be weird at all, he thought. It didn't even make complete sense in his head. Aang was sure he would bungle it if he tried to verbalize the theory aloud. Yet, despite his inability to explain it, Aang felt a measure of hope because of it. Perhaps, the Universe hadn't stripped him of everything after all.

"I just…I want to thank you for listening to me, Katara. I needed that," he said when she continued to regard him in bewilderment, "I'm glad I followed you out here."

"Well, you listened to me too, so I guess we're even." She surveyed him thoughtfully for a moment before adding, "But if you really want to thank me, there is one thing you can do…"

"Name it," Aang said, fully prepared to procure the moon for her if she requested it.

"Teach me how to snap my waterwhip."

Aang gaped at her. "You want me to teach you? But I'm still learning myself!"

"Oh, enough with the false modesty!" she scoffed lightly, "I know you can do it, Aang."

He did know how to do it. It was one of the first lessons that Akycha had covered with him, but Aang already had the technique down long before that. In an odd twist of irony, it had been the future Katara who had taught it to him. And now, here he was, contemplating the prospect of teaching a previous incarnation of her the exact same technique that she had taught him in another life. Life was quite strange sometimes. It was also quite wonderful.

"Okay, I'll teach you," he conceded with a wide smile, "On one condition."

"What's that?"

Aang drew up a long tendril of water from the packed ice beneath their feet. "No flicking," he declared seconds before he drew back his whip and snapped it at her playfully. Katara took a reflexive jump back, gasping at his unabashed boldness. When she lifted her surprised gaze to Aang, his impish grin widened considerably. "Only I can do that."

"You sneaky, little brat," she growled in a laughing tone, "You're going to pay for that!"

"Hmm…you're going to have to catch me first."

With giddy bubbles of laughter, Aang took off like a shot across the slippery plain, narrowly missing the tidal wave of snow that she sent after him.