A/N: Again thanks to Avatar Spirit .net for complete transcripts.
Beyond the Rising Sun
xi.
Katara woke up with a terrible crick in her neck. Grumbling, she massaged the area ruefully and slowly orientated herself with her surroundings. For just a moment, she was bewildered to find that she was slouched against a wall in a hallway—but then she remembered all that had happened, both with Zuko and Jet, and she groaned and let her head tilt back against the wall.
She liked to think she was a mature, sensible person. Apparently those attributes had failed her.
What had she been thinking with Jet, anyway? Of course, that was just the problem: she hadn't been thinking. She never had been capable of too much coherence around that boy; he had an unsettling ability to turn her mind into mush and allow dangerous things like hormones to take over all decisions. Having him come out of nowhere, back from the dead and as handsome and charming as ever, had not really helped her retain her composure, either.
And then there was Zuko. After dwelling on Jet's remarks for the long hours she remained awake in the Rusty Anchor's third floor corridor (she had more or less fled Zuko's room after the firebender had fallen asleep), she wanted to believe that the bounty hunter was just being spiteful or teasing or anything that would imply his points were false.
Because really, she hardly thought that she and Zuko could ever…that they could…it just seemed…
Giving herself a mental shake, Katara refocused mightily. This was all just distracting and stupid: what she needed to do now was support Zuko—unflinchingly and as a friend—during the search for his mother. She did not need to trouble herself with all sorts of distractions, especially those of the male variety.
"He's just my friend," she muttered aloud, eyes shut with the strength of her concentration, as if she could will the statement into truth.
"Yeah, you keep telling yourself that," Jet's suave voice observed.
Katara opened her eyes and slanted him a glare; he was swaggering down the hallway, all kitted up for the mission, straw bobbing casually on his lower lip. He was smirking, as usual, and he looked rather pointedly at the closed door across the hall from her.
"So, did Li kick you out? Or did you decide that you missed me instead?" he continued, hands arrogantly placed on his hips.
Resenting the power his greater height granted him, Katara rose a bit stiffly to her feet and folded her arms imperiously on her chest. "Hardly, Jet. I just…dropped something," she concluded lamely.
"Really," he said, his tone clearly implying he didn't believe her, but who would buy such a miserable lie? "Maybe you should get your eyes checked or something. I mean, if you can't find something for…wait, how long have you been out here?"
Sleeping but a few hours in a hallway had done nothing to improve her mood, and she snapped, "Just shut it, Jet! I don't…I don't want to deal—"
"With the reality that you want me so much more than that pompous Fire Lord?" he prompted with a dark chuckle. "Don't worry—I remember exactly how you were sitting on me, so it'll be really easy to pick up where we left off."
She renewed her glare. "Look, would you forget last night ever happened? I really don't want to deal with that…it's too…" She trailed off, apparently unable to conjure an appropriate adjective.
He studied her for a silent moment, his expression closing off. And then he shrugged, brushing past her. "Well, if you insist, I might be able to keep my mouth shut. But there'll be long days on this job, and boring nights around campfires, and who knows, I might let something slip sooner or later…"
Shame and embarrassment mixing unevenly with her exasperation, Katara caught onto Jet's sleeve, not allowing him to continue walking away. Despite the ice lacing her tone, there was a certain amount of pleading there as well.
"I don't expect you to do this out of the goodness of your heart, Jet. I just hoped that maybe you'd keep this between us. He doesn't need to know." I don't want him to know, she added in her head. I don't want him to think so poorly of me, to know how weak I really am…
Something hard glinted in his dark eyes, and for just an instant, his upper lip curled disdainfully. But then the moment passed, and he clamped his teeth down hard on the stalk of grass and pulled his arm from her grasp. "Whatever you want, Katara dearest," he replied, the sarcasm only thinly veiled.
She swallowed with difficulty—that probably had not been the best request, seeing as it had made it seem like she was ashamed of him…but wasn't she? Well, more of how she acted around him, but he wouldn't interpret it that way. She had most likely just fanned the fires instead of dousing them. At the very least, she had wounded his ego, and perhaps he cared enough to even scrape his heart…
The door opened, revealing a considerably more sober but also considerably more hung-over Zuko.
Katara realized her hand was still extended towards Jet, who hadn't moved, and she retracted it as nonchalantly as she could. The bounty hunter snorted, muttering something derisive under his breath, and sauntered off down the hallway, disappearing into the stairwell.
"Morning, Zuko," she ventured, smiling crookedly.
He simply stared at her. He had evidently tidied up, his clothes straight and his hair brushed, but something about his expression still suggested he was rather rumpled. He glanced away briefly, following Jet's back, and then his amber eyes met hers again. She winced inwardly at the look in there.
He grunted an acknowledgment to her greeting and added after a lengthy moment, "So how's your boyfriend?"
Her heart stumbled off its beat—had he overheard…? "Z-Zuko, he's not…we're not…"
He scowled, stepping into the hall and shutting the door behind him; apparently the alcohol had wiped his memory of her taking him to this room, but she didn't know if it would be any help if he did recall. "Oh, I'm sorry for assuming the best," he sneered. "I wasn't going to jump right to 'random fling', but if that's what you want to call it—"
"Stop it! It wasn't like that at all—nothing happened!" she protested, aware of several gaping holes in that phrase.
There was something terribly tired in his face, something that had nothing to do with physical exhaustion. "Nothing happened, eh? Something happened with Jet that you made him promise not to tell. I hate to jump to conclusions, but I really thought better of you than that, Katara."
She flushed horribly at the implication. "Zuko, no, we didn't—it wasn't like that…" She trailed off, and then dredged strength from rising internal anger, pinning him with a fierce glare. "It's not like it'd be any business of yours, anyway!" she shot back. "You're not my boyfriend, Aang's not my boyfriend, Jet's not my boyfriend—no one in the whole world is my boyfriend! I really should be able to do whatever the hell I please without…without…and you have no right to pass judgment on me, anyway!" she said, changing tracks mid-sentence, her eyes narrowing to icy slits. "Spirits, what is it with everyone and judging me? First Aang thinks I'm becoming some sort of evil monster, and now you're accusing me of acting like a cheap whore!"
She threw up her hands in an overly dramatic gesture, in a fell mood now. "Well, I'm so fucking sorry that I'm not perfect!" she yelled, holding his gaze with her own heated one for an instant longer before she stormed off in the direction Jet had taken, en route for the bounty hunters' rendezvous.
Zuko waited until she had vanished from sight, and then he slammed his fist into the door frame, leaving a scorch mark on the lintel. After a heartbeat, he pounded his hand against the wood again for good measure, now denting it as well. He had feared—in an amorphous kind of way—that something would come of Jet's appearance, but he would never have dared to believe that he'd think such dishonorable things about her, and he would never have accused her at all if he hadn't heard the two of them talking about it, whatever it ultimately was.
Agni, it was just that he'd begun to hope…
It always came down to hope. How he hated the word.
Locking his teeth together to swallow the flames longing to burst forth, he stalked down the hallway, unable to derive any comfort from the fact that his journey was finally starting.
Katara didn't so much as glance at Zuko when the Fire Lord finally appeared outside; she kept her gaze fixed on Jun, who was idly petting her shirsu's sensitive nose. Her crew was already mounted on ostrich-horses, and Katara also ignored the fact that she was likely to share with Jet, as Smellerbee and Longshot had claimed one for themselves.
"Nyla was able to get a scent off that hair," Jun said as Zuko walked up, apparently intent on keeping this businesslike. "Unfortunately, she wasn't able to get a whiff anywhere around here. Her nose is very, very good; if your mother, or at least this scent, were anywhere in the Fire Nation, Nyla should have gotten something, at the very least. This seems to imply that the Fire Lady is elsewhere, so we will need to cross over to the Earth Kingdom."
Zuko nodded dully, his previous excitement forgotten in the wake of the morning's events.
"I have also drawn up a contract, setting up the arrangements and price," Jun continued, proffering a scroll.
He received it wordlessly and scanned the contents. Katara saw his jaw clench—if it could tighten any further without all the bones splintering into shards—and felt a brief pang of concern. She should be over there, advising him, encouraging him, not over here wallowing in anger and self-loathing…but she couldn't make her feet move, and it's not as if he had asked for her help, anyway.
So? some part of her mind hissed. Does he have to ask? Shouldn't you stop being so petty? He only said what you were thinking about yourself, anyway.
Her teeth sank into her lower lip, nearly hard enough to draw blood, and she forced her eyes to refocus in the completely opposite direction.
"What's this…dead or alive clause?" he inquired slowly, raising steely eyes to Jun's.
The bounty hunter shrugged ambivalently. "Generally that's where you indicate your preference. In this situation, though, given the time the Fire Lady's been missing…it's more of a guarantee on our part that we will get paid as long as we find her, in one state or the other."
"She's not dead," he said quietly but firmly. The parchment scroll crumpled and wrinkled where his fingers flexed.
"Just a precaution," Jun dismissed. "You'll notice the fee below, taking into account added expenses, such as the fare to the Earth Kingdom, and also a general increase for additional time involved."
Zuko just stared at the bounty hunter for a long moment, his expression wooden, and then he repeated, "She's not dead. Now I'll need to return briefly to the palace to get my affairs in order and let the High Minister know that he'll have to take over in the interim. I will also set aside the funds for this in such a way that if I do not return with you personally, you will still be able to receive your payment. Agreed?"
"Very acceptable, Fire Lord," Jun conceded. "If you would just sign the contract and give it back as soon as possible…"
"Of course," he agreed, and he brushed past her. Katara held her breath as he approached, still not looking at him directly, and she was surprised to be addressed. "I'll bring your pack," he told her, and while it was not the most elaborate statement ever, she was still a little bewildered he'd bothered saying anything to her at all.
"Oh," was all she managed to reply before he'd continued on his way. She waited an uncertain interval and then glanced over her shoulder, but he had already disappeared into the bustle of the harbor. Beneath the anger smoldering in her chest, something closer to hurt intensified from a dull ache to a sharp, pervasive pain.
She swallowed against it, feeling the pressure on her lungs, and endeavored not to care.
Zuko had had some struggle convincing the Fire Nation Council that he didn't want any bodyguards accompanying him and that he also didn't want to take up any resources—hence the fact that they were now aboard an Earth Kingdom trade ship and not one of the converted Fire Navy warships. Something must have shown in his eyes, though, because the ministers had caved quickly enough, apparently unwilling to fight their young ruler when he appeared to be so troubled, or simply unwilling to provoke his famous temper.
He had all but fled the city, and he couldn't bite back a lingering sensation of guilt. Here he was, the Fire Lord, the sole sovereign, and he was abandoning his people. He knew it wasn't quite like that, that he had left them in more than capable hands, and that he wouldn't be gone all that long (hopefully), but his sense of duty still prodded him pointedly.
He shouldn't be leaving, he really shouldn't…but then Ozai never should have been such a bastard and his mother never should have disappeared and…and everything that had ever happened just should not have happened.
Well, he admitted in some quieter, less tormented corner of his mind, maybe not everything. Some good had come of this avalanche of events, of this history's culmination, such as his friendship with…with…
He rose to his feet, stepping carefully over a sprawled man who had apparently decided that sleeping was the best way to pass the time—there admittedly were not many entertaining alternatives below decks on a very crowded ship. He had inwardly meditated the entire time he had been at the palace and had continued during the first part of the ocean crossing, and he felt considerably calmer, no longer prone to flying apart at the seams. He wanted to find her now, maybe apologize, or just talk to her, or something. He didn't like being at odds with her; it was too…familiar, somehow.
Too much like they were true enemies again.
The look on her face when they had traded blade-like words in the hall…he had seen something of that expression before, only a handful of times: alongside the river with the pirates, in the Northern Spirit Oasis, in Ba Sing Se's catacombs, in the Western Air Temple, and so recently on the beach of Kyoshi Island…
It was a closed-off quality, he realized grimly. As if she had erected walls behind those cobalt irises with as much purpose to keep him out as to keep herself in. Without saying a word, she had drawn a line in the sand, a barrier that screamed so silently We're not friends!
She had hurt him, yes, with her romantic affairs with Jet. But she had not done that for the purpose of antagonizing him; whatever her reasons, she had not acted out of malicious aforethought. His reaction, however reflexive, had been intended to strike her weak points. He had been trying to hurt her, to make her experience just a fraction of his (unjustified) betrayal.
It made sense in his head now, it did…the question was, could he make her understand?
The wind ruffled his hair as he emerged on deck, and he narrowed his eyes against the bite of the spray, not wanting any moisture to blur his vision. The ship was crowded enough as it was, and it would be easy for her to avoid him; he hadn't seen her in the lower decks, though, and as a waterbender, she had a tendency to be drawn to open seas…
"Something tells me she won't talk to you, even if you do find her."
Zuko reminded himself that killing Jet would not be a good thing, at least in the big picture. He leveled a glare at the former Freedom Fighter and snapped in lieu of murder, "I didn't ask you."
Jet shrugged. "Sorry I thought I could help, Li." He added with a bit more of a smirk, "Wanna raid the captain's galley? For old time's sake?"
"No," the Fire Lord replied bluntly, already turning away. He didn't want to talk to the other boy; he didn't want to even see him. All it was was a reminder that Katara always chose someone else. First the Avatar, then this bounty hunter…perhaps starting out as her archenemy was too big a hurdle to overcome. Perhaps he should cherish the friendship they had…or had had.
"We're not together, ya know," Jet remarked idly, as if he were merely commenting on the weather.
Zuko bristled, even though Katara had said as much, and he found himself saying anyway, "That's not what it sounded like," with a definite growl in his tone.
Jet shrugged, pinching his straw tightly between thumb and forefinger to keep it from blowing away in the wind. "I suppose not." He chuckled and added, "That's not what it felt like, either."
The firebender's knuckles popped, and he desperately abandoned several methods of tearing Jet's limbs from his torso in favor of his usual mantra. In and out, in and out, in and out. Just breathe.
The bounty hunter feigned oblivion to Zuko's anger, as there was no way he could actually be unaware of the killing intent rolling off the Fire Lord. "'Course, after about five minutes, she was all like, Why don't we talk, get a real relationship? And that's not really my style," he continued to muse, as if he were only working things out for himself. "Still, it was fun while it lasted."
Zuko managed to open his mouth without spouting flames. "Why are you telling me this?" he demanded, his tone somewhat strained.
Jet twirled the stalk absently. "I saw the look on her face earlier today, when she came outside at the Rusty Anchor." He pursed his lips, and the straw ceased spinning. "I didn't like it. Figured it had something to do with you, since it had all along. Besides, I think the best way for her to clear up the line is to blur it as quickly as possible, so I'd really prefer if you two got over each other so I can have her all to myself again without the random guilty shit on the side."
The firebender had a feeling something important was hidden amongst all that arrogant babble, and he frowned slightly as he tried to fish it out. "Are you trying to say…?" he finally ventured, however incompletely.
Jet shrugged and popped the straw back in his mouth, tilting it up with the pressure of his lips. "I dunno, Li. What am I trying to say?" Smirking again in his trademark—and to Zuko, very annoying—fashion, he tucked his hands in his pockets and wandered away, merging into the passengers crowding the deck.
Zuko remained where he was, no less conflicted than he had been before. Sure, now he knew that nothing extreme had happened, but something still had, and regardless of whatever Jet had been hinting at, that still held weight. Maybe he should apologize, try to patch things up, but…the fact that she had chosen Jet, however briefly, still rankled, still hurt.
He would let this be. As he had told Aang not very long ago, Uncle Iroh always said to let the waters settle before going for a swim. Maybe, in a day or two, when tempers had cooled and wounds had scabbed over, they could pick up where they left off.
Hopefully.
And there was that Agni-damned hope again.
Three days later, the Fire Lord, waterbending master, and bounty hunters had only just unloaded from the Earth Kingdom trade ship when Nyla suddenly keened, a high-pitched, drawn-out sound too strange to be a howl.
Zuko shot the monstrous animal a look and then turned his gaze to its mistress. "Jun, what's that mean?" he demanded, still sufficiently riled by the lengthening silence between himself and Katara to forget his manners and speak rudely. Every time he had gathered the courage to seek her out, he had always come across Jet first, and the hurt had always been sufficient enough to bury his more logical side.
Jun mounted the shirsu agilely, whip gripped in one hand and the other extended towards him. "Up you come, Fire Lord—it means she's caught the scent."
Zuko balked, staring at her in shocked disbelief, but then he scrambled up as swiftly as possible, adrenaline thrumming through his veins. It wasn't possible, was it? Had they actually found his mother's trail? Would he finally see her again?
Could it really be true…?
He was so distracted that he had no time to notice, much less experience any jealousy, that Jet hauled Katara up behind him on an ostrich-horse; he barely had time to grab hold of the shirsu's saddle—since grabbing hold of Jun did not seem like the wisest idea—before the beast lurched off, claws churning the dirt into dust as it tore through the harbor.
People scattered, yelling and screaming, as the bounty hunters and their mounts cut a swath through the midst of the bustling market, and a few even threw bits of merchandise, largely overripe fruits. They continued undeterred, though, despite Katara's fleeting sense of déjà vu when her and Jet's steed bowled over and thoroughly destroyed an unfortunate merchant's cabbage cart.
And then they were out of the village and into the forests, trees whizzing past as the shirsu fairly flew with its speed. Zuko had ridden the beast before, and as he recalled, it was not the most pleasant manner of travel; it galloped in a vaguely horse-like manner, but with considerable more undulation of its body, which ultimately left Zuko with a very sore behind.
He trusted Jun to drive the creature as best she could, but he still couldn't swallow the panicked desire to duck as the shirsu careened too close to low-hanging branches or other obstacles just waiting to pluck him from the mad animal's back. The terrain beneath them wasn't even, either, all little hills and valleys that transformed a straight run into a series of leaps and bounds; occasionally the shirsu would be hanging in midair before reconnecting with the hard ground in a jolting motion that nearly shoved Zuko's stomach up his throat and certainly jarred his lowest vertebrae into a single piece.
So it was with several different sources of relief that Nyla finally skidded to a stop, claws raising sparks as they dug into smooth cobblestones. Finally feeling his insides cease dancing, Zuko weakly released his white-knuckled grip on the saddle and took stock of their surroundings. They were within an enclosing wall—as neither Jun nor Nyla had any issues with trivial matters like walls, which were there to keep lesser mortals out—that appeared to be some sort of paved outer courtyard; along two of the walls were gates, one the entrance that they had blithely bypassed, and the other leading to the building proper.
Zuko frowned. This place looked awfully familiar…
As if on cue, Jet and Katara rode into his line of vision, and he saw the waterbender twisting about, absorbing their environment. "Hey," she said, matching Zuko's frown with her own, "we've been here before. I mean, all of us. This is that abbey where you tracked Aang after capturing Sokka and I," she informed Jun and Zuko.
Jun scowled. "How could I forget? After you bent all that perfume at poor Nyla, it took her a week to recover and a month before she'd track anyone for me."
"So why the hell are we here?" Jet asked, reining his ostrich-horse to a halt.
Katara slipped from the creature's back, brow furrowed in puzzlement, but then her expression smoothed with comprehension before it ultimately fell. "They make perfume—that's what the shirsu tracked. Lady Ursa must have used some that they make here, and that must've been the strongest scent left on her hair."
Zuko, who hadn't understood the situation enough to even begin hoping, felt his chest tighten with disappointment anyway. Apparently he could go straight to feeling miserable. "So this is a dead end?" he said tonelessly.
Just then, a small contingent of nuns emerged from the main structure, all of them warily eyeing the newcomers; it seemed they had not forgotten the run-in with the shirsu four years ago. The foremost of the group, clearly the leader given the difference in her garb, addressed the bounty hunters at large.
"What help can we provide, travelers?" she asked in a rather motherly tone: strong yet soft.
Zuko waved one hand aimlessly. "Nothing, nothing—we're sorry to have troubled you."
"No, wait," Katara insisted, striding over to the nuns and addressing the abbess. "I'm Sifu Katara, the Avatar's waterbending teacher, and that's Fire Lord Zuko," she explained, pointing to the firebender. "We're trying to find the former Fire Lady, Ursa, and we tracked her here with a lock of her hair and the capabilities of Jun's shirsu," she continued, gesturing when appropriate. "It seems that Lady Ursa used some of your perfume…I'd like to see if the shirsu can pinpoint the specific fragrance, and then perhaps you could help by telling us who buys that particular one. Sound good?"
Zuko blinked as the nuns discussed the proposal briefly amongst themselves—they probably were leery of letting such a massive animal into their abbey, with good reason. He had thought Katara held some grudge against him; she certainly hadn't attempted to talk to him the entire crossing. But here she was, helping him anyway.
He realized, not for the first time, that Katara was a bit of a bigger person than that.
Feeling something akin to a faint smile curve his lips, he dismounted Nyla rather gracelessly and shuffled to the waterbender's side, stiff from the wild ride. He hesitated for a moment, but then he nudged her shoulder with his elbow and said softly, the sincere gratitude palpable in his tone, "Thank you."
She glanced at him sidelong, and for a painful instant, he thought she would dismiss the gesture and simply look away. But she shrugged instead and replied, "That's what I'm here for, Zuko. That's why I signed up for this whole thing."
He nodded vaguely and ventured, "I'm…sorry."
Almost imperceptibly, she tensed, but then her frame relaxed. "Forget it. It was just a lot of stupidity on both our parts. Apparently being an idiot is catching," she added with more humor and a hint of a grin.
He chuckled softly, acutely aware that a weight had lifted from his shoulders and his conscience. "I suppose it is," he agreed. "Still, though, I should never have—"
"I said forget it for a reason," she chided, and she waved one of her hands. "Water under the bridge and all. Oh…" She refocused on the nuns, who had come out of their huddle, and asked, "Did you reach a decision?"
The abbess nodded, bowing slightly. "Yes, Sifu. We will allow this…animal into our abbey, providing that its mistress keeps careful watch. We do not want any undue damage," she explained, clearly recalling the causalities inflicted on the building during the shirsu's last chaotic visit.
"Longshot and I will wait out here with the horses," Smellerbee volunteered, and her companion merely nodded his acquiescence to her proposal.
Jun shrugged agreeably and turned her attention to her remaining crewmate. "Jet, hold onto Nyla's saddle on the other side. She gets a little feisty in enclosed spaces, and we're not to cause any problems," she instructed, with a rather pointed look at the abbess.
"Gotcha," Jet replied breezily, ducking around the beast and hooking his arm through the stirrup.
Jun retained hold of the reins, one hand placed comfortingly on Nyla's head, and she guided her mount forward. The nuns parted to let them through, closing up to follow in their wake, with Zuko and Katara trailing in the rear.
"Normally we don't divulge client information," the abbess informed them. "But we are aware of the Fire Nation's royalty, and we sympathize with your quest to find your mother," she directed at Zuko, who nodded in grateful acknowledgement. "I must tell you, though, that I have not seen any such person in our abbey."
Zuko grimaced at such news, but he was distracted from his dire thoughts by Katara's fingers weaving through his. He glanced at her, pleased but perplexed, but she didn't seem to take any notice of the action or his reaction, instead watching the shirsu slink onwards with a faintly pensive expression.
Drawing strength from her warm grasp, the firebender paused with the rest as Nyla scratched at a heavy wooden door, and they all turned as one to look at the abbess.
"The cellars," the woman explained. "This is where we store the perfume. I am not sure if your animal will fit inside the staircase, though."
Jet pushed the door open, and Jun peered inside. "Doesn't look like it," she remarked. "Nyla's getting skittish; the source must be near. Are the canisters sealed?" She waited for the abbess to nod and then continued, "Opening them one at a time should be enough for my shirsu's nose, even from up here."
"Very well," the abbess agreed, and she and her nuns squeezed around the blind creature and filed down the stairs; one of them grabbed a torch from a sconce, and then they disappeared into the shadowy cellar. There were sounds of earthenware being moved, and at intervals, Jun would interpret Nyla's reaction to the scents floating up from the subterranean room.
And then the shirsu keened once more, its hair standing on end in a ripple of excitement, and Jun called down, "That's the one!"
Footfalls echoed on the stairs, and Jet and Jun maneuvered the shirsu away from the doorway, giving the nuns room to exit. They spilled back into the corridor, and the abbess came from the rear, holding a tiny pot in her hands no bigger than Zuko's fist.
Katara's fingers tightened on his, and he stared blankly at the unremarkable vessel. "That's it?" he asked, incredulous. When he had been here four years ago, he distinctly recalled that Katara had bent huge vats of the stuff, and he experienced an unsettlingly foreboding at this perfume's small quantity.
"This is it," the abbess agreed, proffering the pot.
Zuko slipped his hand from the waterbender's and accepted the small clay container, twisting off the tightly sealed lid and gingerly lifting it to his face. He inhaled, and the familiarity of the scent nearly bowled him over.
"Look at me, Mama! I'm feeding the turtle-ducks!"
"Good job, Zuko. They look so happy! Here, can I help you?"
It was something sweet, but not cloying…subtle and soft, with just a hint of spice. He closed his eyes, memories aching deep in his chest as he took another sniff.
"Mom?"
"Zuko, please, my love, listen to me. Everything I've done, I've done to protect you. Remember this, Zuko: no matter how things may seem to change, never forget who you are."
His eyes burned, and he squeezed them tighter—there was no way he was going to cry with Jet looking on. He tried to slip into his mantra, but he couldn't remember how it went, only his mother's voice echoing again and again in his head, forever repeating the last words she'd ever said to him.
Never forget who you are listen to me remember this never forget who you are never forget
"Zuko?"
Katara's voice, concerned, her hand gentle on his shoulder.
He closed the lid, twisting it into place with a bit more force than necessary. Taking a deep breath of non-perfumed air as subtly as he could, he willed the tears from his eyes and raised his head. "It's hers, alright," he confirmed, thankful that his voice came out steadily. "But…" He hefted the tiny pot, properly studying it for the first time. "Why's there so little of it? Is this all you have?"
The abbess nodded. "Perfumes are like clothes, my lord: they come and go with the times. This one used to be very popular, but that was over a decade ago. We chiefly exported to Ba Sing Se, but there were a few wealthy patrons in the Fire Nation as well, apparently including your mother. Now, though, the demand has all but disappeared, and that is all we keep on hand for the few customers we have."
Zuko rubbed his thumb absently along the shallow grooves in the clay. "Who are these customers?"
She looked apologetic. "None of them would be your mother, my lord. There is an old man who buys it for his wife, and they live on the coast quite a ways south of here, and there are a pair of women who live in one of the nearby forest towns, and there is a young girl, probably a few years your junior, who comes from a tiny village in the nearest mountains. But that is all."
"We could investigate," Katara offered, watching his visage carefully. "Not the old man, but certainly we could visit the town in the forest and the one in the mountains."
"To what point, for what purpose?" Zuko replied dully, something hoarse and raw riding the edges of his words. "Those women aren't her, the abbess said so herself. They're just women who share her outdated tastes." He shook his head despondently and handed the perfume back to the abbess. "No, this was all just a wild goose chase. Maybe the shirsu can pick another scent off Mom's hair, or maybe we should just go home."
"Go home?" Katara echoed, incredulous. "You're suggesting we give up? Oh, hell no. We did this much and got this far, and you've sure as hell waited long enough. We are not stopping here, understand? We're seeing through this until we have no leads left!"
Zuko stared at her, that broken quality still lingering in his eyes behind the surprise, and she turned to the abbess, realizing he wasn't in any state to be helpful. "Madam, please. Would you give us directions to these two villages?"
Appearing somewhat doubtful at the information's worth but still sympathetic to their plight, the abbess related her information, even going so far as to have one of her sisters fetch a map, which she marked and handed over. The two benders and the bounty hunters left the abbey then, the Fire Lord still steeped in desolation.
Katara glanced at Zuko, judged he remained unfit for conversation, and said to Jun, "I don't suppose we really require your services anymore. You were very helpful, though."
Jun arched one elegant eyebrow, one of her hands stroking Nyla's neck; the shirsu was positively purring at being outside once more. "I don't know about that. I see jobs through to the end, and so far we haven't found our target. Should these two leads come up short, you may want to try using my Nyla again; as the Fire Lord suggested, there might be other, subtler scents to pick up and follow. Plus, it's more profitable to stick with it for the long haul."
The waterbender worried her lip, glancing at Jet, but the former Freedom Fighter was conferring with Smellerbee and Longshot, and he did not seem too terribly inclined to stir up any trouble. And since she and Zuko had gotten back on even footing, it wouldn't be that much of a hassle to have the rogue around.
She conceded with a shrug. "If you want. We'd be grateful for any further assistance. Now then…" she began, studying the borrowed map, "it seems like the mountain village is the closer of the two, not too far to the northeast…"
It had already been late afternoon by the time the company had reached the abbey, and they were forced to make camp for the night. The bounty hunters all bedded down in record time, but the benders remained awake. Katara sat on her sleeping bag, idly manipulating a tiny stream of water, and watched Zuko. He stood a dozen feet off, his arms hanging limply at his sides and his head tilted back, observing the stars.
"We're going to find her," she finally promised, dispelling her element back into the air.
He turned his head in her direction, but all the shadows hid his expression; normally his wordless reaction, coupled with his lying down and at least feigning sleep, would have left her in the dark as to his mood. But there was no mistaking this: he was drained to his dregs where hope was concerned.
She studied his unmoving form, too still to be truly sleeping, and prayed fervently to all the spirits she knew that this would turn out in his favor. Perhaps, selfishly, she wanted this to succeed as well; she and Zuko were close, so close, and despite her misgivings, she felt the line blurring from existence more and more with each passing moment. She had loved him as a friend for years, and she supposed it wasn't that difficult to take that final, irrevocable step.
And even if she and Zuko never became…whatever that would be, finding Ursa would still have the same weight. The former Fire Lady could fulfill the role of a mother again—not her mother, never Kya, but still a warm, maternal presence, someone to discuss fears and dreams and everyday trivialities with. Someone to lean on, so that it was not ultimately Katara that everyone looked to, not this eighteen-year-old girl who sometimes so desperately just wanted to be an eighteen-year-old girl.
They had all lost their childhoods, but Ursa could, perhaps, help bring that same safe sense of dependence back, and maybe she could even ease the ache of long-open wounds.
With all these thoughts whirling through her mind, Katara consequently slept poorly, but she disguised her displeasure when morning came, aware there were far more important things afoot. Zuko didn't look like he had slept at all, either, and his body was so frightfully tense that she could actually see him trembling whenever he ceased pacing.
Aside from a comforting squeeze of his hand with hers, though, she could offer him no more reassurance, as he was obviously eager to get moving—but at the same time, so blatantly dragging his heels, trapped in a dichotomy between knowing and not knowing and fearful of what tipping the scales away from ignorance would bring.
The relatively brief journey to the mountain village went as smoothly as could expected; the company rode in silence, a quality that seemed glaringly out of place except where Longshot was concerned. But as the sun reached its highest point in the sky, sending bright streams of light through the leafy canopy and casting dappled shadows on their skin, the group reached the village.
After a steady uphill climb all morning, they encountered a hidden vale nestled between two arms of the mountains. Trees crowded thick and close in a lush but not suffocating manner, and the simple houses ringed a clearing that was more or less rectangular in shape; there could not be more than two dozen buildings, and the people occupying the clearing had to be the entire population.
Unsurprisingly, the bounty hunters' arrival caused quite a stir; this little village rarely saw visitors, let alone such exotic ones. The citizens shied away as the three beasts emerged from the tree line, giving the new arrivals a wide, wide berth.
Katara dismounted, stepping forward a few paces and glancing back at the bounty hunters and Zuko. "This shouldn't take too long. We'll just ask them about the perfume, okay? And let's be as nice as possible about it, too," she added, though for whose benefit, it remained unclear.
Zuko didn't make any sort of acknowledgment except to slip off Nyla, and the others likewise were silent, with the exception of Jet. After securing his steed to a low-hanging branch, he clapped Katara on the shoulder and remarked airily, "Don't fret, my dear Katara. I'll try not to flirt too shamelessly."
Laughing at his own gall, Jet slipped his hands into his pockets and ambled forward, oozing nonchalance as he approached the tentative townsfolk. The waterbender merely spared him a brief glare before she eyed Zuko again. The Fire Lord simply stood for a second, his gaze blank and detached, and then he shuffled after the former Freedom Fighter, none of Jet's swagger in his heavy gait.
Katara worried her lower lip, but eventually she followed them into the midst of the makeshift marketplace, trying to appear as disarming as possible. She had only spoken with a handful of people when Jet's voice rose clearly above the swell of conversation.
"Hey, Katara. Over here."
She didn't bother to reply, only slipping through the village's inhabitants in the direction of his voice. She found him easily enough; it wasn't as if there were an overwhelming number of people to confuse him with. He was standing in front of a house which was fronted with a fairly permanent-looking stall; she approached him where he waited in the shade of the awning, balancing his weight against the counter on his hip, his arms folded loosely on his chest.
The vendor was a young girl, roughly Katara's age back during the Avatar's quest, and she looked torn between being flattered by Jet's attention and on guard about it. Upon seeing the waterbender's approach, her expression tended more openly towards the latter.
"This is her?" Katara asked Jet, remembering that the abbess had said the customer was a teenage girl.
He nodded, and before she could protest, he loosely grabbed her arm and pulled her in close, his lips nearly brushing her ear. "She admitted to buying it, said it was for herself," he revealed, his other hand moving up to twine casually in her hair. "But she's not wearing it…curious, eh?"
Katara resisted the urge to roll her eyes—or better yet, hit him—for this over-the-top display; would it have been so terrible just to tell her that like any normal person and not beat about the bush and play lovers? She eased somewhat out of his embrace, determined to ignore his idiocy in lieu of focusing on the apparently-lying girl.
The girl glanced between them shiftily, her whole stance radiating unease, and before Katara could speak, she said, "Look, I don't know what the big deal is. It's just perfume. That's not a crime, right?"
"No, it's not," the waterbender agreed.
"Then why all the questions?" the girl continued, frowning. "I didn't steal it, and I certainly didn't steal it from you. I can't imagine why you'd come all the way here just to bug me about it."
"We're looking for someone," Katara allowed, batting Jet's hand away when he tried—very suavely, it must be said—to snake his arm around her waist. "She uses the same perfume that you purchased. We were merely wondering if you were a delivery girl, you see—if you buy it for someone else."
The girl paused, poorly attempting to disguise her disquiet, and from the way Jet nodded ever so slightly in her periphery, Katara knew his initial questions had provoked this reaction before. She looked exactly like someone who was hiding something, and Katara decided to play their trump card.
"You're not wearing it," she pointed out coolly. "So who did you buy it for?"
The girl's eyes darted between them, as if she were actively seeking an escape. "L-look, I don't have to answer your stupid questions!" she protested, retreating further into the shade of the awning. "I'll bring the Elder over, and you'll have to deal with him."
"Fine," Katara conceded with a wave of one hand. "We'll talk to the Elder."
The girl stared at them, still frozen like a deer startled by a hunter, and then she bolted in much the same fashion, slipping through the gathered people with all the ease of a shadow.
Jet sighed and lazily plucked the straw from his mouth. "Nice one, darling. Involve the authorities."
"Stop with the pet names," she growled, not even looking at him. "And that girl's scared; she's hiding something, and maybe this Elder will be more inclined to reveal why. It's like the whole place is sworn to secrecy or something."
He twirled the grass contemplatively. "Little towns like this can be strange that way. I've seen a lot of them, and they usually aren't too predisposed towards outsiders. They're really a bunch of xenophobes, and now we saunter in, all Water Tribe and Fire Nation…really, I'm not surprised they're acting this way," he concluded in his usual languid drawl.
She nodded, absorbing that viewpoint, and then placed her hands on her hips impatiently. "Ugh, what's taking so long? It's not as if she'd have to go very far!"
"Beats me," Jet replied, and then he smirked wickedly. "I'm sure we could find some way to pass the time, though…"
Jaw clenching, she made no response to his implication.
He replaced the straw in his mouth, still smirking. "If the setting's too unfamiliar, I could always sit on the counter…then you'd be able to get on top of me, and—"
"Would you shut it already?" she snapped, her patience entirely gone, and she slanted him a glare that was as frosty and icy as it was searing and hot. If that didn't make him hold his tongue, she wasn't sure what would.
He just chuckled and refolded his arms. "My my, so defensive. I wasn't aware that you wanted to make it so badly with his lordship King Li."
Jet was saved an early if well-deserved grave by the arrival of the Elder, who was practically being shoved along—except that was hardly respectful and so a bit exaggerated—by the original girl, who kept looking at Jet and Katara like it was four years ago and they'd just announced they were Fire Nation. The movement of this particular man had apparently caused quite a stir, as everyone, including the other bounty hunters and Zuko, drifted over in his wake.
The Fire Lord was frowning deeply, and he slipped to Katara's side, sending her a curious glance before he gave his attention to the apparent leader of the village.
"I am the Elder, Gensu," the man explained in a somewhat reedy voice. He was indeed old, his skin worn wrinkled and leathery by the sun and the years, but his eyes were bright and sharp beneath bushy silver brows, and it was clear that this was not a man who would be pushed around.
"I'm Sifu Katara, the Avatar's waterbending teacher," she said. Sometimes, especially now, she felt bad dropping Aang's title to garner herself favors, but it almost always had a pacifying effect on people. They all assumed that if you were affiliated with the Avatar, you must be a good person.
As she had hoped, Gensu seemed to recognize her standing, as he adopted a slightly more docile expression, even though he had never appeared particularly hostile in the first place. He bowed shallowly and slowly in deference, and she returned the favor; when they stood straight again, his moss-green eyes focused unrelentingly on hers.
"What brings the Avatar's friend and waterbending master to this humble village?" he inquired, although he continued swiftly, indicating that was more pleasantry than anything. "I understand you have been asking questions of young Sala concerning her choice in perfume. May I ask why you have troubled her so?"
Katara groaned inwardly at the man's wording, but she only said, "I am sorry if we have upset any of your people. We are merely trying to locate one of our group's mother," she explained, gesturing back towards Zuko, who was leaning against the stand with Jet and looking rather removed from present activities. "She has been missing for eleven years, you see, and she happens to use the same perfume that—Sala, was it?—that Sala bought. That is all."
Gensu observed her shrewdly for an uncomfortable interval, and then his eyes slid to Zuko, who remained staring disenchantedly at the ground. At length, though, he declared, "I would speak to you, Sifu Katara, and the young man concerned, in private. If you would follow me…" He beckoned them with a wizened finger, and Katara waited for Zuko to pull even with her before she trailed after the Elder.
It seemed that he was not interested in the nearest venue for privacy, as he led them across the now-silent clearing and down to the end of town, where the only multiple-storey building stood. He opened the front door, standing aside to let them pass, and then closed it securely behind them. The place was simply furnished, as befitted such an isolated village dwelling, and the two benders remained standing.
Gensu walked past them and reclined at the low table, already having removed his sandals; now he sat cross-legged on a cushion, and he gestured to the space across from him. "Come, sit," he invited.
Pulling off their boots, the benders obeyed his instruction, Katara lounging considerably more than Zuko, who contrived to keep all his limbs ramrod straight while kneeling on the thin cushion.
"Tell me," Gensu said after scrutinizing them both in silence, "tell me who exactly you are looking for."
"My mother," Zuko replied bluntly, his voice somewhat raspy for disuse, and Katara blinked, surprised that he had spoken. "I am Fire Lord Zuko, and she is Lady Ursa. Tall, beautiful, black-haired and golden-eyed. She would be approximately forty years old, and she would have shown up in the last eleven years."
Gensu kept up his penetrating stare, although it possessed a more musing flavor now. And then, abruptly, he busied himself with rearranging the coaster-like tiles arrayed on the table, and for several minutes, there was only the gentle clink of pottery on wood.
"I do not know any woman by that name," he remarked at last, setting the last tile on the top of the newly-formed stack. "But I feel I must admit that I have encountered a woman matching her description, moreover a woman who has been quietly—and via a third party—buying the same perfume for the past nine years. I have vowed never to betray her wish for privacy, but your information is compelling."
"You've seen her?" Zuko blurted, except his voice was barely audible. "Is she…here…?"
The Elder paused again, perhaps weighing his loyalty to this woman who might be Ursa, and Katara was suddenly fed up with his see-sawing.
"Look, if the woman you know is Zuko's mother, then you have to tell us! His sister is very sick, and we need to find Lady Ursa!" It was practically true, but it still slipped easier from her lips than she would have thought. But Zuko's happiness was on the line here, and she wasn't about to let this man's sense of duty ruin everything.
Gensu's eyes snapped back to hers, and Katara knew she'd hit the nail of the head—there was too much truth betrayed in that instant. And he seemed to realize that she had realized, as he sighed softly and adjusted the position of the top tile.
"The woman I know has gone by Miri, and she has spoken of a daughter…and a son," he added, briefly looking back at Zuko, whose knuckles had whitened under the phenomenal pressure. "She has cared for all the village's children, indeed, as if they were her own, and there was always a lingering sadness about her, a regret not easily forgotten, even for a moment…" He trailed off with a slight shake of his head, and Katara experienced a foreboding sensation as his expression saddened.
"If Miri is Ursa, your mother," he addressed the firebender, "then…then there is something you must know. She has fallen ill; truly, this has been a slow sickness, and she has been ill for some time now."
Oh, no, Katara whispered inside, begged the spirits. Please no, don't say what I think you're going to say, don't…!
Gensu's face was apologetic as he revealed the final piece of this puzzle.
"She is…dying."