Part Fourteen: Blowing Kisses in the Wind

"Why did you bother saving me?"

Aang ignored the question as he bent over Mai's recumbent form. "Good. You're awake. I was worried, you lost a lot of blood back there."

They were holed up in some farmer's deserted shack in the middle of nowhere; Mai had gleaned that much the last time she found herself able to stay awake for more than a minute at a time.

If she'd been able to laugh, she would have, stoicism or not, just because Aang actually looked like he meant it when he said he'd been worried about her. "You shouldn't have bothered," she said, her voice still weak and shaky after who-knew how many days spent in slow recovery from the wounds he'd inflicted on her during their battle. "Just let me bleed to death, it would have been kinder."

"Don't say that!" Aang cut her off sharply. "All life is sacred, and everyone deserves a second chance."

She'd raised her head to try and meet his eyes; now she dropped it back to the folded blanket and turned wearily to one side. "Not everyone," she whispered, closing her eyes and falling back into sleep with a troubled frown.

Aang regarded her with a frown of his own. Why had he saved her, brought her here instead of to a doctor or back to the Fire Nation?

The answer to the first question was easy, the other, not so much. What he said was true, one of his core beliefs: All life was sacred, and everyone deserved a second chance. Everyone. No one had the right to just pick and choose, well, except rulers and magistrates and others who sought to uphold the law.

At any rate, he felt, personally, that passing judgement, determining who lived and who died, was not up to him. And that was why he was here in the middle of nowhere with a wounded fugitive on his hands; he knew very well what would happen if and when he brought Mai back to the capital.

He hadn't realized how hard it would be to make the decision to bring her back to face her punishment. He should have; after all, he'd managed to not kill Ozai, as everyone kept pointing out. Why should he be any less scrupulous where Mai was concerned? At least she'd had some reason, however poor, for doing what she'd done. A broken heart, he admitted sadly, could really do a number on your sense of perspective.

Still, it wasn't until he'd managed to vanquish her in battle that he even considered not returning her to face Zuko and Katara. The fight had burned a lot of his excess hurt and anger out of him, leaving him strangely calm, almost at peace with emotions that had threatened to overwhelm him until then.

He'd gone after Mai out of a sense of betrayal from two people who were close to him, burning to avenge the hurt done to them—well, mostly Katara—and so heart-sore he could barely think straight. And now?

"Now I can think straight again," he said aloud as he pulled the blanket over Mai's shoulder. He'd cleaned her wounds, wrapped them, and stolen food and water-leaving a fair payment behind, of course, but he'd still stolen the stuff and would have to go back and apologize to the farmers from whom he'd done the stealing at some point… "Off track, Aang, off track," he muttered to himself.

That "some point" was far off in the future, after he'd finally made up his mind about how to handle The Mai Situation.

The frown deepening, he wandered outside to find a quiet place to think.

The Fire Nation Palace

"How is she?"

Zuko practically pounced on the Healer as she exited Katara's room in the medical wing of the palace.

"No change, Fire Lord," was the respectful reply, and Zuko went back to his fretful pacing.

No change. Katara had been unconscious since he'd carried her out of her room, staggering in pain, half-blinded by blood streaming down his face, deafened by the blast, terrified she was dead.

She wasn't, thank Agni, but they'd both been badly burned and Zuko's arm had been broken in three places. Only the presence of a Northern Water Tribe Healer had healed the breaks and kept those burns from permanently scarring either of them, but apparently some sort of damage had occurred to Katara's mind, damage that the Oasis water couldn't do anything about, or so he'd been told. Damage that kept her sleeping like a maid in a tale for two days now. A Mind Healer had been sent for, one of the elite few who practiced their arcane abilities in remote temples on the fringes of the habitable lands to the north, but wasn't expected for another day.

Another day of fretting and pacing and cursing the stubborn, pig-headed, ignorant prejudices of so many of members of his arrogant, Spirits' forsaken rabble of a nation.

A hand fell on his shoulder and whirled with a snarl on his lips that quickly vanished as he saw the concerned features of his uncle. "How is she?" Iroh asked.

"No change." Zuko's shoulders slumped and he dropped his own hand over his uncle's, offering a brief squeeze of acknowledgement for the older man's concern. "Her father's with her now."

"You must not blame yourself, Nephew."

Zuko was unsurprised by his uncle's words; it had to be obvious to even a casual observer how the Fire Lord felt right now, let alone to his closest relative. "I don't, Uncle. Not really. I blame my father and the rest of our ancestors for turning us into a nation filled with so much arrogance and prejudice that some people feel compelled to kill someone just because they break with tradition." The bitterness in his voice rose as he continued: "I blame the coward who planted a bomb in Katara's bedchambers, and the idiot who tried to kill her before this, and anyone else who plans to try again when they learn this attempt failed."

"And you blame yourself for not keeping her safe," Iroh pointed out gently.

Zuko ran a hand over his face. "Yeah. That too," he agreed in a listless voice, all emotion suddenly drained from him. It had been an exhausting few days, to say the least, and Iroh studied him with concern.

"You should try and get some rest," he advised after a moment. "I promise, I'll tell you immediately if there are any changes."

Which, of course, there wouldn't be. Not until the mind healer arrived and…and…and did whatever it was mind healers did when people had been so injured they retreated into their own heads and refused to come back out.

Which was so unlike Katara that it frightened him even more than he was willing to admit to himself. She was strong, she was fearless, why wasn't she waking up to fight back against the harm that had been done to her?

Almost, he voiced those fears and doubts to his uncle, then changed his mind. He was the Fire Lord; he couldn't appear weak, not even to those he loved and trusted. So with a nod of appreciation, he took Iroh's advice and retreated to his private chambers, where a lamp burned in anticipation of his return. It was well after midnight, but he knew, even as he stripped off his formal robes and threw on his night-clothes, that he would get no sleep this night, nor any night until Katara had been returned to him.

oOo

"Okay, something's wrong; I can smell it."

Sokka gave Toph an odd look, which of course she couldn't see and so blithely ignored. "What are you talking about?" he demanded, scanning the shoreline as their ship neared the Fire Nation dock. "Everything looks—and smells—fine to me!" He wrinkled his nose. "Well, maybe a bit fishy, but hey, I grew up in the South Pole, so fish I'm used to smelling."

They had given up on their search for Mai and Aang only with great reluctance, when it became apparent that the Avatar was deliberately hiding from them. No one had seen Appa, and without a direction to search in, it was increasingly apparent that they had run out of options.

"No, she's right," Suki contradicted him, her quiet voice breaking into Sokka's thoughts. She, too, was scanning the oncoming shoreline, and her face was as serious as her tone of voice. "Something's…off. I just can't put my finger on it."

Sokka opened his mouth to continue the argument, but then he, too caught wind of what the others had already seen; the grim expressions on the faces of people as the ship drew nearer to its slip, the increased number of guards in view, and the dark head cloths many of the women were sporting. "Did someone…die?" he asked, his throat closing in sudden fear.

"No." The voice came from behind them; one of the other passengers who had also been uneasily scanning the wharf and the city behind it. "The flags would all be covered as well. But someone's been injured, someone important. The dark head scarves the women are wearing are to show that their thoughts are with..whoever it is that's been injured."

"Could it be Zuko?" Suki wondered, but again the stranger shook his head, tugging thoughtfully at his beard as he answered her.

"If it was the Fire Lord the flags would be burning and the men would have their heads covered as well. No, not the Fire Lord, but unless I miss my guess, someone close to him. Maybe that new fiancé of his. She's Water Tribe, I hear, but…"

That was enough for Sokka. With a grim look on his face, he dove over the side of the ship, which was still maneuvering into position next to the dock. Suki shouted in alarm, but Toph grabbed the back of her tunic when she would have followed Sokka. "Hold on, Fan Girl, Sokka can swim like a fish. We'll be better off just waiting for the ship to dock and heading up to the palace on our own."

Suki subsided with a disgruntled sigh. "Fine," she grumbled. "We'll wait."

"Look, I know you're just as worried about Katara as Sokka," Toph said, releasing her friend's tunic but leaving her hand on the older girl's shoulder in a gesture of sympathy. "We all are. But so far it's just a rumor."

"No, just an educated guess," the stranger said comfortably, not appearing at all disturbed by Toph's implied insult. "I'm a scholar by trade, lived in the capital my entire life, so I'm pretty sure that's what's going on now." He offered Suki a sympathetic smile. "I can tell you must know the girl personally."

"Yeah, that was her brother who just jumped into the water," Toph replied.

Neither she nor Suki saw the startled glance the stranger gave them, and he receded from their minds as the ship finally docked.

By the time Suki and Toph both thought to question him about his statement that Katara was Zuko's fiancé, he'd already vanished into the crowds of people making ready to disembark.

The Palace

"Where is she? Is she all right? What happened?"

Iroh stepped forward and placed his hands on Sokka's shoulders. The boy was soaking wet, wild-eyed; he must have just heard about his sister and…and what? Swam here to be by her side?

Shaking his head at the impetuosity of youth, Iroh explained what had happened. "Your sister is recovered physically, but a Mind Healer has been sent for, and should arrive tomorrow to examine your sister. Of course," he offered by way of consolation, "she could simply recover on her own; it has been known to happen, and your sister is very strong."

Sokka had remained quite still while Iroh spoke, his eyes never leaving the older man's face, but as soon as Zuko's uncle removed his hands from Sokka's shoulders, he was in motion, heading at a dead run for the medical wing. Iroh had intercepted him in the hallway on his way to his rooms for a quick nap. "Your father and Zuko are with her now," he called after the Water Tribesman's rapidly retreating back, then shrugged wearily and continued his interrupted walk to his own rooms.

He just hoped Sokka wasn't in a mood to take out his worries on the Fire Lord; but then, Zuko could take care of himself and would be sure not to do any permanent damage to his betrothed's brother.

At least, Iroh hoped not, considering Zuko's own state of mind at the moment. Eh, nothing he could do about it; neither one would be swayed by wise counsel, and besides, Hakoda was there to talk sense into his son if necessary.

Ah, it had been such a long night, after an impossibly long couple of days, and all he wanted to do was sleep, as he'd advised his nephew to do the night before…or had it been early this morning? He had no idea. His shoulders cracked as he stretched, and he winced at the sharp pain that passed over his neck at the movement. I'm getting old, he thought to himself. Too old to deal with this sort of thing anymore.

But deal with it he would, for as long as his nephew needed him.

After a nap.

oOo

"Iroh told me what happened," Sokka snapped as soon as he saw Zuko standing outside the door to Katara's sick room. He was glad the Fire Lord wasn't by his sister's side at the moment; what he had to say to Zuko shouldn't be what Katara woke up to. If, that is, she could even be roused by angry words…He brushed his worries aside, fiercely glad to have someone to take things out on right in front of him. "What were you thinking, asking her to marry you? You knew something like this would happen!"

"We both did," Zuko replied, doing his best to hold onto his temper. This was just what he didn't need right now, Sokka in his face about not keeping Katara safe, when Zuko was berating himself for exactly the same thing. "For the record, neither one of us planned for things to happen this way, but the issue was forced on us by unplanned circumstances." He kept his voice conciliatory as he explained. "We planned to wait until Katara turned eighteen before announcing-"

Sokka cut him off with a harsh laugh. "You were planning to wait three years? But you still planned to marry my sister, even knowing how your crazy people would take it?"

Zuko took a step forward, his anger rising in spite of his attempts to keep it under control. "My 'crazy people' aren't the ones doing this," he snarled. "Just some remnants of my father's followers. When I find out who did it, I'll take care of him just like I did the other one."

Oops. That had been a mistake; apparently Iroh hadn't told Sokka about the first attempt on his sister's life. "The other one?" he asked, incredulity in voice and eyes. His hands balled into fists as he glared at Zuko. "You mean someone tried to kill my sister twice since I've been gone? Way to go, Zuko, good job keeping her safe."

Zuko's own hands clenched into fists, and steam was rising from them as well. "Sokka, knock it off. Why are you back, anyway? You were supposed to be tracking down Aang and Mai. Was it too much work for you, you just gave up and came home the first chance you had?"

"That is enough!"

Both young men started and turned to see Hakoda standing in the doorway to Katara's room, glowering at them. "Katara would be ashamed to see you two snarling over her misfortune like a pair of feral dogs over a bone!"

His voice was low, but it held them frozen with shame. Sokka was the first one to lower his eyes. "I'm sorry, Dad," he said in a choked voice. "But it's just…we had to find out from some stranger on a ship that Katara was engaged to this bozo, and that she was hurt somehow."

Zuko bristled at Sokka's insult, but let it pass at the steady look his future father-in-law gave him. Slowly he unclenched his fists. "I'm sorry, too. You're right; she wouldn't want us to fight like this. Especially," he added, deliberately turning his gaze on Sokka, "since we're practically family, and not just because she and I are getting married. After all we've been through together, you'd think we'd know better than to just fall back into old habits."

With those words, he held out his hand. "I'm sorry I snapped at you, Sokka. I'm worried about her, too."

After a long moment, Sokka took Zuko's hand in his and shook it firmly. "Yeah, I'm sorry, too," he mumbled. Then he turned back to his father. "How's she doing?"

"The same," Hakoda replied, allowing some of his own concern to show on his face as he closed the door behind him. "The Chief Healer is with her now, along with Lian Xi." That was the Northern Water Tribe Healer who'd elected to remain at the Fire Lord's palace after the rest of her group had returned home.

"Can I see her?" Hakoda nodded and stepped aside, allowing his son to pass. He and Zuko waited in silence until a subdued Sokka reappeared several minutes later.

"It's like she's just…sleeping," he said, rubbing a hand across the top of his head in a nervous gesture. "I tried talking to her, the Healers both said that might help, but she just kept on sleeping. Like a princess in some children's story."

"Yeah," Zuko agreed. "Just like that." Then he entered the room, leaving father and son in privacy while he sat with Katara. The Healers murmured encouraging words, but the looks they exchanged across his head spoke volumes; they had no idea of Katara would ever recover, Mind Healer or not.

Then they left the room, closing the door quietly behind them, leaving Zuko alone with Katara.

He hitched his chair closer to her bedside, taking her limp hand in his and stroking it with the fingers of his other hand. "Hey," he said softly, watching for the merest hint of a flutter in her eyelids. The Healers had told him the same thing they'd told Sokka; sometimes talking to someone in such deep unconsciousness could help. They didn't know why; even the Mind Healers couldn't explain why it helped, they just knew it did. "Katara, I'm so sorry," he continued, then managed a slight grin. "I know, I'm repeating myself. But it's true, and it's the only thing I can think of to say. Except," he added, leaning forward to lay a gentle kiss on her lips, "that I love you. You need to wake up so we can get back to planning our wedding."

No response, no movement save the slow rise and fall of her chest as she breathed.

Leaning his head onto his hands, Zuko gave into his despair and allowed the tears to fall unchecked.