Author's Note

Hello again, everybody, and thank you for reading this far. I'm loving the reviews and all the page views, and I'm hoping you love my story so far. I know I promised you a Zutara romance, and I just want to say, we are going to get there. I know by this point some of you are a bit worried about where this story is going in regards to Zuko and Katara, but I'm expecting the romance to really unravel in the next few chapters now that we're past the Southern Raiders arc. Hope you'll be patient with me, and thanks as always for reading.

Chapter Eleven

The edges of the paper crumpled between her fingers as she stared at her picture.

It was well-drawn, she had to admit. The proportions of her face were right, and while her hair didn't quite match the style she'd been wearing on the night of the bar fight, it was close enough that it wouldn't hinder identification if someone tried to compare her to the wanted poster.

So far, there was no poster for Zuko. Perhaps they'd identified him as the prince, and another wanted poster would be superfluous since there were already plenty circulating around the world, or perhaps they hadn't gotten around to writing one for him yet. It didn't matter, though. As long as they were traveling together, their chances of being identified were greater than Katara cared to think.

"What do we do now?" she asked, folding up the poster and tucking it in her pocket.

"We get as far away from here as possible, and listen for rumors about flying bison," Zuko told her as he untied the boat from the tree they'd docked next to. With such a conspicuous boat, going into port was suicidal. Katara climbed into the water tribe boat and stretched her arms, getting ready to sail. As soon as Zuko was below deck, they set off.

The pinwheel motion required to push the boat through the sea had become familiar to her in the past few days of travel. She had taken the unique motions of the Foggy Swamp style and modified them for the larger boat, the result being a watercraft capable of outracing a Fire Nation cruiser. The downside to using bending as a power source was that, eventually, her arms grew sore and fatigued, and they had no backup method of propulsion to move them in case of attack. So about eight hours in, her exhausted arms gave out on her and she retreated below deck.

Zuko was standing over the stove when she came in, waiting for a kettle of tea to heat up while he stirred something in another pot. He gave her a rare smile when she climbed down from the trapdoor, massaging her arms between her fingers. "The tea's almost ready. It'll ease some of the soreness."

The gesture surprised her. Back when she'd been traveling with Aang and the others, the task of cooking had fallen on her shoulders. Sokka, though he loved food, wasn't skilled at cooking much besides meat. Aang was too young to know much about cooking, either, and Toph just wasn't the cooking kind of person. Even before she'd left the South Pole, she had cooked whenever Gran-gran was busy. Katara wasn't used to having someone else cook for her. "You didn't have to do that," she told him as she sat down.

He shrugged. "Uncle said I was getting better at making tea, and I learned a lot about different herbs working at the tea shop in Ba Sing Se, so I figured I would practice." He poured water from the kettle into a pair of cups, and added the appropriate herbs. A few moments later, he handed her a cup and sat down at the table, across from her. "Besides, I felt useless down here, so I figured I would at least try to do something productive."

She sipped at the tea, bracing herself for whatever flavor the hot liquid would be when it hit her tongue. The few times she hadn't been the one to cook back at camp, the results had been disastrous. But the tea wasn't bad at all, so she took another sip. "It's nice," she said, sensing Zuko was waiting for a word of approval.

"Thanks."

They sat in silence for a few minutes while the scent of whatever else Zuko had been cooking drifted through the small compartment. Her mind drifted to what Aang might be doing right now. He's probably with the others, working on his earthbending. Toph knows he still needs to sharpen up his skills if he wants to defeat the Fire Lord. Or he might be looking for me right now. The wanted poster will make it easier to find me, if they happen to see it. Of course, it'll make it easier for our enemies to find me, too. But if we're both looking for each other, how can we fail? Unless they're not looking for me. She shook the thought away. Of course they're looking, why wouldn't they look? Just because Sozin's Comet is on its way doesn't mean they don't have time to come looking for me. I know Aang can practice his bending on the go, and they all must know that he'll be a lot more clearheaded if he knows I'm okay. She bit her bottom lip, then made herself swallow another gulp of tea.

"We'll find them," Zuko said abruptly. She glanced up, startled. It was almost as if he'd heard her thoughts. "That's what you're worried about, isn't it? That we won't be able to track them down, or that once we do, we'll find out something has happened to them? I'm worried, too. I don't know if my Uncle got away from the catacombs at all, or if I could find him if he did. But I have experience tracking the Avatar, so you shouldn't worry so much about that. It's not hard to find a group like yours when they're traveling on a giant, flying bison."

"I know," she said, wishing she felt as confident. "I just worry about them." She drank the last of her tea, and Zuko poured her another cup without her asking.

"They're probably looking for you, anyway. They'll assume you were taken to the Fire Nation when Azula took us captive, so they'll be around here." He stood up, setting down his cup of tea, and returned to the stove to stir whatever was in the pot. It smelled spicy, not like sea prunes, or anything else she would've expected to be stored in the boat. After a moment, he opened the cupboard and retrieved two bowls.

Katara watched with interest, wondering what the crown prince of the Fire Nation could be capable of cooking. As he poured the substance into the bowls, it became apparent that the aromatic dish was chili.

"I didn't think you'd like it as spicy as we usually make it, so I held back on the peppers."
"Where did you find peppers?"

"Around. I looked around each of the little islands we stopped at. Since the Fire Nation is a primarily tropical country, we have a variety of food growing all over, especially the spicy kind."

He gave her one of the bowls and sat down again. The chili sent up puffs of steam.

"When did you find the time to look for those?"

"While you were asleep. I was worried you might wake up and wonder where I was going. I wanted to surprise you."

"You woke up in the middle of the night to go looking for these?"

He nodded. "I had nothing better to do. I'm pretty much useless out at sea, so . . ."

She took her first bite of chili, glad Zuko had decided to hold back on the spice. It burned all the way down her throat as it was. "This is good," she told him once she got used to the bite. "Where did you learn to cook like this?"

"When I was searching the world for the Avatar on my ship. There's not a lot to do for fun when you're out at sea for so long with no sign that there's going to be any payoff."
She nodded. The tea he'd made was working・her aching muscles were starting to relax, and without the constant pain, it was getting harder to keep her eyes open. "I'm tired," she murmured.

"Then you should rest. That's what I do when I'm tired."

"Are you going to have any more chili tonight?" she asked.

"No, probably not."

"Then I'll freeze the rest for tomorrow." She stood up and walked over to the pot of chili, freezing it solid and putting the frozen pot in one of the insulated cupboards on the floor. Languid after the hours of bending and the subsequent meal, she walked over to the sleeping quarters. "Goodnight, Zuko," she said as she slipped through the door. "Thanks for the tea. That was thoughtful of you."

Ty Lee

The ink was smudged where her tears had hit the parchment. I'm sorry, she thought as she placed the folded sheet at the foot of Azula's bed. The words were all carved into her mind, elaborate etchings drawn with a sharp stick.

I'm sorry I can't face you directly with this, she had written, the words feeling too stiff and formal even though the intended recipient was a princess. I've come to realize some things in the past few days, and I hope you'll forgive me.

But I have to do this. There's no place for me at your side. I'm not worthy of your friendship or this nation. My heart has always been a treacherous thing. I abandoned my family to find some place where I could stand out and be an individual, instead of a matching set. I was vain to the point of contempt. I struggled to come to terms with my loyalty to you and the Fire Nation. And now my traitor heart is telling me that I have to leave.

The Avatar is dead. You did your duty when you killed him, and the Fire Nation is safer for it. But now, having seen how truly vicious you can be, I realize that I can't stay friends with you anymore.

The tears had started flowing then, smudging the neat calligraphy, but she'd continued to move her hand across the page, driven to finish this letter. It didn't matter how much this goodbye hurt, she'd tried to convince herself. She had made her decision, and that meant facing up to this task.

I'm joining whatever may be left of the Avatar's group. I will fight you, Azula, not out of malice, nor out of duty. I will fight you because, when I run away from here, that will be the only choice I have left. I hope you don't hate me for it. I truly did value our friendship, even though times were not always good. I hope・even though I doubt it will turn out this way・that before morning arrives and you wake up, I will have changed my mind and stolen this letter back so I can burn it. But I know that won't happen, and I'm sorry.

I know the consequences of this treachery. I know it will cost me dearly. I know I'm destroying our friendship, and I regret it. But this is something I have to do.

With love,

Ty Lee.

She had signed her name, sobbing over the paper. As soon as it was finished and delivered, there was only one final task for her to do. Ty Lee returned to the guest room she'd been appointed since Azula had recruited her. Her bags were already packed. She had the pink clothes she'd bought in the days since her recovery, some food for the way there, and some money for whatever else she might need along the way, but her bag was light compared to what she'd expected.

The sun would rise in six hours. That gave her enough time to get down to the docks, buy a ticket for a boat, and sail far away from here. It also gave her enough time to do one other thing, before all that.

She went over to her dresser, her feet heavier than blocks of lead. The mahogany dresser was massive, with a mirror large enough to encompass the faces of all her sisters, as well as Azula, Mai, and half a dozen others. Sitting on her dresser, right in the middle, was the pair of shears she had borrowed from the gardener's tool shed. She lifted the scissor-like instruments, staring at the silvery blade for a long moment. And then, with a single tear rolling down the side of her face, she snipped a tuft of hair off her head, letting it fall all the way to the floor before she cut a second one. And then a third.

And another, and another, until the her barren scalp reflected the flickering torchlight.