Disclaimer: I own...a pair of socks. And and a bottle of sunscreen. And my bike. And my brain, when I haven't leased it off to someone else. But not Avatar. Or Zuko would be MINE.
AN: I saw last night's episode...I liked it. Very much. Very, very much. And I'm going to stop typing now before I break something.
Chapter 11: Aid Unasked For
Iroh led the girl through the hatch and down an iron lined hallway, bringing the girl to her quarters. Or at least, he assumed it was her room: there was only one empty, inhabitable chamber on the ship, save for the brig and the infirmary, but Prince Zuko had mentioned neither of these. Again, he could only assume that she was to be taken to an unoccupied room. His nephew was protective enough of the young girl not to room her with any of the sailors...or himself. Of course, considering the way they had been kissing...
Iroh smiled slightly. I sound like a dirty old man, he thought without shame. When they finally arrived at the room, he found that his first assumption had been correct, evidenced by the lamp and bedding that now occupied the previously empty chamber. The placement was conveniently next to the room Iroh shared with his nephew, though much of that could be attributed to chance.
"Thank you," the girl said, her voice faint. She seemed to recognize the room and staggered inside, sitting heavily on the iron cot. Iroh realized with some alarm that the girl was in a terrible condition. One that he, guiltily enough, had been to busy fantasizing to notice. But he saw it now; she looked ragged, like she had been completely worn away, her once bright eyes had faded with unease, but they stared intently at the ground before them as though she hoped to bore a hole in the steel floor with her gaze.
"Would you like some tea?" he asked gently. When the girl's eyes shifted to him, she looked startled. Most likely she hadn't noticed him standing there. A faint smile flickered on her lips, but she offered a soft 'no thanks,' before returning her stare slowly to the ground. Unconsciously, her fingers wrapped around the edge of the cot, so tightly that her knuckles faded to white.
"Are you sure? It's Jasmine tea. A delicious blend, and it works wonders on the nerves." The girl sat in thoughtful silence for a moment, then returned her fleeting smile.
"Maybe...maybe I will have some, please," she said. The retired general grinned.
"I'll be right back."
A few minutes later he returned, bringing a tray of tea, which he set down on Katara's cot.
"I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name," he lied as he poured her tea. It probably wouldn't help the girl at all if she knew about his latest hobby.
"Katara," she said. Her voice was soft. It was a pleasant relief, really, from his nephew's flaring attitude.
"A fine name," Iroh said. "I am Iroh. I understand you are familiar with my nephew, Prince Zuko," he clarified, being slightly more obvious than was necessary in hopes of easing the girl's nerves. Katara nodded gently and sipped at her tea.
"You seem troubled," he continued. "Come, tell me, what's wrong?" Katara shook her head slightly, as though trying to brush off her uncertainty. "Surely it couldn't be so awful," he insisted. That did it.
"It is!" the girl cried, her voice a little higher than it had been before. "It's terrible! It's..." she lowered her head. "Sorry..."
"There is no need for apology," Iroh said. "Perhaps you could explain to me the trouble. I may be able to help."
"Thanks. That's sweet of you, really. But I don't think there's anything you can do."
"Try me," he said. Katara looked away.
"It's Aang," she said softly. "The Avatar. He's...he's hurt. I think he may be..." she shuddered, spilling some tea onto her lap, though she didn't seem to notice. "...I don't...I don't want him to die..." she whispered, more to herself than to the old man. Iroh put a reassuring hand on her shoulder.
"He won't, Katara," he said soothingly. "My nephew will make sure of it." The girl nodded quickly, trying too hard not to let her tears escape.
"Thank you," she whispered.
"Would you like to tell me what happened?" the retired general offered, though not only to sake his own curiosity. Katara couldn't be left to herself. Not like this. She had to remain busy, had to stay occupied. Iroh wasn't sure if worry was the only thing that had made her so ill, but if allowed to fester, it would only make her condition worse.
Katara nodded faintly. That memory was hard enough to think about, and telling this man would be painful at best, but she needed to talk about it. She just couldn't stay by herself.
"It...It happened earlier this morning..." she began shakily."Aang was going out flying, with his glider...he does that sometimes..." She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. "He was...trying to scout out the island...and having fun with it. He always makes a game out of things like that...And then...I don't know how it happened-- maybe I didn't fix it right the last time...but his glider tore. Sokka and I saw it from the ground. He...he tried to land, but he couldn't. He just...fell. He was at the edge of a hill, and it was covered in rocks and..." she shuddered. "He landed hard...there was blood...everywhere...and...and he didn't wake up." she looked up now, still fighting back tears. "Sokka's with him now. He's better with blood and and taking care of injuries...so I went to get help." She took another sip of tea and bowed her head. "I don't want Aang to die..."
Prince Zuko dismounted his rhino when he reached the place Katara had told him about. His mount shook its horned head nervously, trying to back away from the scene. Had the situation been less urgent, he would have allowed it. Before him was a rocky slope, which was had been showered with fresh blood.
No wonder Katara was so upset, he thought, trying to keep his own stomach under control. At the base of the slope were two figures, one ominously still and covered in blankets and makeshift bandages, the other kneeling over him, trying miserably to mend his companion's wounds. The conscious one, evidently Sokka, turned suddenly, apparently aware of the dozen Fire Nation soldiers that had gathered around him.
"Get out of here, slime ball," he snarled, pulling himself to his feet and brandishing his boomerang.
"Stand aside," Prince Zuko said evenly to the boy, gesturing for the doctor to examine the Avatar.
"Not on your life!" Sokka's slow movements betrayed his exhaustion, but that didn't dampen his spirit. As the doctor approached, the boy slashed at him with his weapon.
This was not working.
"Stand aside," Prince Zuko said again. "I have no intention of fighting right now."
"That's a laugh, you dirty fire breather," Sokka growled. "I know what you're after."
"Then you also know that the Avatar is useless to me if he is dead. And I assume the same applies to you." This got the other boy's attention. "That man you just tried to decapitate is my ship's doctor. Now stand aside and let him work." Sokka didn't move.
"You're just going to try to lock him away again," he said coldly.
"Exactly. After he's recovered, of course. But at least he won't have to be buried. Now move." With another gesture, he commanded two of the soldiers to grab the boy. Sokka struggled, but he was too exhausted to put up a good fight, and watched helplessly as the doctor began his work.
Nearly an hour later, the doctor stood.
"There's no more I can do from here," he said. "We need to take him to the ship."
"Good. Get him on one of the rhinos!" he barked.
"What about this one?" one of the soldiers asked, nodding down to Sokka, who had started fighting again.
"Release him. We don't need him."
"Hey!" Sokka cried indignantly as he was thrown to the ground. He pulled himself to his feet and bolted after his friend, who was now secured on the back of Prince Zuko's rhino. "Hey! No! Stop!" Prince Zuko ignored him.
The return to the ship took longer than the trip out, mostly because the Avatar would not likely survive a hard ride, and the rhinos had to be slowed accordingly. Which the Avatar's friend appreciated, no doubt, because he was jogging behind them, shouting curses and threats after them whenever he had enough breath in his lungs. By Prince Zuko's order, the boy wasn't killed. This wasn't an act of mercy to Sokka, but to his sister: Katara had been traumatized enough without having to lose her brother.
