A/N: I hate naming OCs but sometimes I try to be oh, I dunno, purposeful? meaningful? The doctor in this chapter is named Hiruko, which is a Japanese deity for fisherman's luck. I chose it partially because of the fish reference but also because Hiruko has a backstory of being cast out to sea due to some family drama. It reminded me a little of the Legend of Makenna. Speaking of, there's definitely some family drama coming to light starting with this chapter.
Things went from dreadful to dire in a matter of minutes when Zuko saw Katara slump over onto her father's listless form.
"Guards!" he hollered, but his uncle had already called everyone into action. The lifeboat was being lowered back into the water with four men aboard. Zuko scrambled to the ship's railing to watch them. As his eyes darted back and forth between the guards, the icy water below, and the devastating scene on Hakoda's boat, he weighed his decision. Climb. Jump. Or Swim.
Iroh grabbed his elbow. "Nephew, don't. Let them handle this."
"But Uncle—" Zuko's stomach lurched into his throat.
"I need you to go find Lieutenant Hiruko," Iroh said calmly.
"Who?" No, I need to go rescue Katara.
"He's your ship's medic, Zuko. You know, for when you don't have a waterbending healer around. Find him. And prepare the sickbay."
Zuko did as he was told. Begrudgingly. But also in full knowledge that his uncle was right. Without Katara—for Katara—they would need someone else with medical expertise. And the Fire Nation wasn't lacking in this field, either. They actually pioneered the industry—a side effect, of sorts, of being long-time wagers of war.
Just as Zuko was beginning to forget their once-enemy status with the Water Tribe, the naval doctor jarred his memory. When Hakoda had been lifted onto the deck and placed on a stretcher, Lieutenant Hiruko took a quick look at the stab wound. "Jaw blade. Seen tons of these before. The jagged edges are actually easier to stitch than a clean cut from a sword, though."
The man waved for the guards to follow him, and he began giving instructions as they carried the stretcher away. Zuko redirected his attention to the limp body that was being placed in his arms.
"She'll be fine, Fire Lord Zuko," Lieutenant Hiruko called over his shoulder. "She's just dehydrated. Get her some water."
A dehydrated waterbender seemed like a really big deal. But Zuko was grateful that the treatment was manageable—not magical—for him as a firebender. He considered his options, though. He knew sickbay had four beds, and a fresh water source was pumped directly there. And there was only one bed in his quarters and currently no water basin since they intended on making a day trip to Whaletail Island where they would pick up an airship for the remaining journey. He wondered if these diversions would alter their initial travel plans.
Lieutenant Hiruko didn't even acknowledge Zuko when he descended the steep metal stairs, careful not to hit Katara's head on the way down. Whose idea was it to put sickbay so far below deck? Seems like poor planning to me.
Zuko settled Katara down on the bed next to Hakoda's. On the other side was Malina who appeared to be sleeping. He had completely forgotten that she would be here, too, still recovering from her own brutal attack. He briefly glanced over at the medic's handiwork and shuddered. He'd much prefer to watch Katara's glowing hands over a needle pulling through ripped flesh. He shook his head, then set about his task, filling a waterskin and placing it between Katara's lips.
She sputtered a little and then began to swallow. Her eyes fluttered open slowly at first, but then, with a snap, Katara was back. "Dad!? Where's Dad?"
Zuko tried to gently coax her to lie back down. "He's fine. He's with the doctor. You're—here, drink this."
She took the waterskin from him but instead of drinking, she looked frantically around the room. "Dad!"
Zuko caught her when she tried to stand. "Katara—" She's always been a terrible patient.
As the waterbender's eyes rolled back in her head, she did sit down with a sudden thud and dutifully drank from the waterskin while leaning on Zuko for support. He positioned himself next to her on the bed and waited, expecting her to start talking. She always has something to say. But instead she passed out again. Right there in his arms. He knew that if he left her to her own devices, she would just try to get up and heal again, so he'd better stay. Just. like. this.
There were worse ways to spend his day, he figured. It wasn't like he had other plans anyway.
Zuko didn't plan on falling asleep, though. A strained grunt awoke him, and remembering Hakoda's condition, he almost called out to him. Two things gave him cause to reconsider, though. One, Katara was still asleep on his chest. And two, a contented female sigh followed after a brief pause. Malina.
The sounds served as a disturbing reminder. Surely they wouldn't... Didn't they just escape death? They're like rabbits, these two.
He even thought he saw Malina hop out of bed in his sideways view.
"Koda? What happened?" She gently pawed at the Chief's chest.
"I wasn't—I couldn't—save you," was his broken answer.
"What do you mean? I'm fine. It's just—what are you doing here? Who did this to you?"
"I'm sorry, Malina. I'm sorry I wasn't there to protect you."
"Koda, you're—here, let me get you some water."
Zuko quickly shut his eyes—because he was sleeping, not eavesdropping—but when nothing happened, he chanced another peek. Malina hovered at the foot of the bed, clutching at her side. She was in no condition herself to be doctoring anyone else. But before Zuko could offer to help, she bent a stream of water from the basin across the room and guided it to Hakoda's mouth.
She then snuggled up next to the Chief and lightly traced the edge of his bandage. "New battle wound, wolf man?"
Hakoda's breathing became erratic as if reliving some moment of panic. "I couldn't… I wasn't… I'm so sorry…"
"I'm not—hey, it's OK," Malina comforted. "I'm OK. Look, I have one to match."
Zuko closed his eyes at the sound of rustling fabric. He didn't dare risk looking now. Not at her.
Hakoda made a hissing sound between his teeth.
"I know. It's ugly, isn't it?" Malina said.
"No, it just looks like it hurt. You put up a pretty good fight," Hakoda replied, his voice suddenly stronger.
She sighed. "Yeah, but I'll have these scars."
"Not scars. Marks of honor."
Before Zuko could allow Hakoda's statement to send him back to another day in time, Malina said something that struck him.
"Men talk about honor like it is something you get when you win a duel or pass a test. It's really more like a quest—a lifelong process. One that very few men pursue to the fullest, I'm afraid."
Of all the things Zuko had learned about honor, he'd never heard it put that way before.
"I think you're right, Malina. And outside appearance doesn't matter, either, scars or not. It's what's on the inside—" Hakoda let out a pained cough. Then after drawing in a deep breath, "Did you know? That you were pregnant?"
"I—"
A shuffle and a creak indicated a shift in position.
"How long did you know?"
A sniff and a shudder indicated a shift in disposition.
The Chief's voice dropped to barely above a whisper. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because… everything was hard enough already. Sokka and Katara… I figured they wouldn't take the news well," Malina spoke unsteadily.
"They would come around eventually. Katara is… she's pretty upset that she couldn't save our baby." The steadiness had left the Chief's voice completely.
"I know, Hakoda. Your children are good people. It would have been hard… for you, too."
"I would be honored for you to carry my child." Hakoda said this without wavering, though.
"But see, now you're talking about honor again. It's too hard to stay honorable in this world that we live in. Bringing a child into this doesn't sound like a good idea."
"I'll certainly contend that it wasn't planned, but I don't know if I agree that it's a bad idea. Fatherhood also has a way of teaching men honor—by giving us responsibility and making us humble."
"And you're a good father, Hakoda."
Zuko silently agreed. Especially when words like responsible, humble, and honorable were considered.
But it would seem that the Chief disagreed. "I tried, but I wasn't there for Sokka and Katara like I should have been. I couldn't even save their mother. I should have been there. But I was somewhere else. I'm always somewhere else. It's all my fault. I failed them. I failed you…"
Malina gasped. "Shhhhhhh, stop it. What are you talking about?"
But Zuko knew exactly what he was talking about. Those weren't his words. Those were the words of Hakoda's father, no doubt. And even though it was so uncharacteristic for the Chief to talk like that, Zuko knew that when you grew up with those messages drilled into you, it wasn't so easy to let them go. Even after all these years…
"Malina, all these years, I've been fighting battles all over the world. But I've never been able to fight the one at home. I'm leaving the South Pole."
At this, Zuko felt Katara flinch. Her eyes were still clenched shut, but as she adjusted her head slightly, he felt air hit the wet spot on his collar—where her tears had fallen. How long has she been awake? How much has she heard?
"What!? But you can't just leave. You're the Chief!" Malina protested.
"I was never meant to be. And Sokka doesn't want to be. There's nothing left for my family there," Hakoda said with a tone of deep sadness.
"But what about Kanna?"
Sadness then turned to bitterness. "Kanna is right where she belongs. She's one of them."
"Koda, it was never supposed to be us verses them. You're not thinking clearly right now. Get some rest, and we'll come up with a plan."
Bitterness turned to forcefulness. "The plan is to leave."
Zuko tried to hold onto Katara, knowing that she might not fare well with such an abrupt ascent, but she sat up anyway and glared at her father. "Dad. We have to go back and get Gran Gran."
Hakoda didn't act surprised in the least at her joining the conversation. In fact, all emotion had left him at this point it seemed. "If you're worried about her safety, Katara, she's fine. She's a survivor."
"I know she has Pakku, but… Dad, she's family!"
"She's no family of mine."
Katara choked back a sob. "How can you say that?"
"She's one of them."
Zuko then realized that Hakoda was trying to say something without coming right out and saying it. And the pieces were starting to fall in place in his mind—the attempted murders, Kanna's deftness at survival, her striking blue eyes…
"She's a killer," Zuko said without thinking. Everyone's resulting expressions made him wish that he hadn't.
All eyes then turned to Hakoda for an explanation, but he didn't get a chance to give one. A sudden lurch in the ship's movement nearly knocked Katara off the edge of the bed where she was perched. But when Zuko went to catch her, she shoved him away.
Iroh appeared in the doorway. "A word, Fire Lord Zuko."
"Anything you would say to me, you can say to them. They're… family." It hadn't been the warmest of family moments just then, but maybe he could salvage it.
"Very well, Nephew. I just wanted to let you know that I've reset our course."
So much for warm fuzzy feelings. "We're not going to Whaletail Island anymore?"
Iroh extended his arm and opened his hand, revealing a pai sho tile tucked there in his palm—The White Lotus. "There's been a change of plans."