A/N: Thank you my darling readers for your patience! This chapter was finished but then I had some issues with my laptop and finally got this published! A bit of a filler, but necessary before the next chapter. Rest assured, I have a plan for this, even if my updates are slow. I've actually been working on the epilogue (eeeek) so now we just have to get from here to there. ;) Happy reading!

Chapter 25 - Never Forget

I catch Pakku as he finishes his training in an open courtyard that overlooks the snow dusted mountains. The air up here is so crisp and cool, almost reminding me of Nine. Of home. Of a home that no longer exists.

With that pit in my stomach, I decide to spare the old man small talk and get straight to the point.

"I can't bend with this hand," I say, and hold up my injured hand in emphasis.

Pakku faces me fully, wiping his damp neck with a cloth. His steely eyes narrow on my hand. Then he steps forward and holds out his own; I give him mine to examine, as if he can somehow see the damage beneath the skin.

"How did this happen?" he asks, his voice unnaturally quiet.

For a moment, I'm back in that room, chained to that chair as Zhao forces me to watch the Director whipped to shreds before his throat is slit. As Jin takes a beating, as Bowen, shackled with spiked irons, is forced to watch the torture.

As Zhao had tortured me. Burning my hair, burning me, consuming me…

"Katara?"

"Zhao," I manage hoarsely. I leave out the horrors of the pain that still haunts me in my dreams. "After I was captured in Thirteen. I…I was able to heal the skin. But the damage went beyond that."

The damage will never leave me.

"Let me—"

"There's no point, Pakku. It's too late."

"In case you forgot, I am a Master."

"It doesn't matter. That's what I'm trying to tell you. I don't feel anything there." I look away, angry and defeated. "I mean, I physically can feel, but there's an absence there that I don't have with my other hand. It's…hard to explain."

"That is your chi," Pakku offers gently. I find myself wishing for the cold, ruthless man instead of the pitying one.

I give a shrug. "Sure. Well, there's no chi in that hand. No amount of water can heal what isn't there."

Pakku drops my hand and seems to consider this. "Then you shall need to master bending with one hand."

I almost laugh. "Yes, I know. That's why I'm here. I've been trying."

He no doubt senses my frustration, and where he might have scolded me for my tone before, he simply says, "Then you must try harder."

I sigh and tilt my head back, looking toward the clouds for comfort.

"Airbenders study the spirituality of bending, more so than any other culture. They'd argue our bending is just as much spiritual as physical—more so, perhaps."

I look back at him. "And?"

"Mastering with one hand is just as possible as two. It would require a degree of chi manipulation, but you also must be one with your chi. If I know you like I think I do, then I would assume you are struggling to accept what has happened." I open my mouth to argue, but he says, "You must heal yourself spiritually before you can expect to see physical results, Katara."

"I didn't realize you were such the guru, Pakku."

He almost smiles. "Jeong Jeong is a master of chi. Have you considered talking to him?"

"Considered, yes." I leave it at that. "I'd rather work with you."

He barks a laugh. "Words I never imagined to hear."

"That is, if you think you can stoop low enough to train a lowly little girl like myself."

Pakku surprises me by reaching out to grasp my shoulder. His soft words surprise me even more. "A girl, yes, but you are a warrior, Katara. Perhaps not a master of water, not yet, but a master of something far more valuable—of survival."

I try to smile, but it feels pained. "Now those are words I never expected to hear."

"You should have heard them a long time ago." Somehow, he looks sad. Then he sighs and adds, "You really should speak with Jeong Jeong."

"Jeong Jeong is just so…"

"Charming? Patient?" I jump at Bowen's unexpected appearance. I hadn't even heard him approach.

"What do you want, boy?" Pakku asks with a glare.

"Only to offer my services to a lady in need." At my raised brow, Bowen adds, "Do get your mind out of the gutter, Kat. I speak only of physical combat, of course."

"Of course." I hold back laughter.

"We start at dawn tomorrow."

He turns on his heel as I call out, "But I never said yes!"

"Too bad!"

Waiting for Iroh's reply somehow becomes a little more bearable as we settle into our temporary home. It's not Nine, or Thirteen, but we have shelter and we have each other. It's enough for now.

Zuko insists that meditation is a critical aspect of training, so every morning at dawn I wake and meditate in the courtyard with him. Every time, I almost fall asleep, earning glares from him when he blinks an eye at me every so often—or sometimes if I'm lucky, an elbow in the ribs. I try to focus on my breathing, but the mountain breeze and rolling clouds only open a void into things I want to forget.

After my failed attempts at meditation, I train in combat with Piandao and Bowen—separately. Pianado leads group trainings for everyone, and Bowen works with me personally on control with my bending hand. Since he's mastered throwing metal, we work on the same theory but with ice daggers. It's so frustrating and difficult to do, but he remains patient and encouraging. I wish I could say the same with Pakku.

Gone is the pity, and here is the man I remember: ruthless, stern, with no time for failure.

"You're not concentrating!" he yells at me, about a week into training.

"I'm trying!" I yell back.

"Try harder."

"It's hard to concentrate with you nitpicking every move I make!"

"Do you think the Guards will be quiet and still so you can concentrate?"

"I think you're—"

"Take a walk." He waves a hand at me dismissively. "Come back when you're focused and ready to work rather than make excuses."

When I fling water at him—sloppily, if I cared to admit—he deflects it with such ease it's just embarrassing.

So I go for a walk, and don't come back at all that day.

Two days later, after I'm still failing by Pakku's standards, he brings in reinforcements.

It doesn't help. They both just gang up on me.

"You've done this before," says Zuko. "Use the water whip, but when you strike down, freeze the end for maximum impact. Don't let the ice break."

"I don't want to damage the property," I grumble.

"Stop making excuses and do it."

I glare at him, at his it's that simple tone. Despite the shift in our relationship, his brutal training remains the same. "You try bending with one hand."

"Is that a challenge?"

"Yes," I snap.

Lazily, so lazily that I almost kick water in his face, he raises a single hand and fire blazes in his palm. I realize, stupidly, that he's done this many, many times.

And always made it look so simple.

"Neat trick," I sneer at him. "Do something useful with it."

Zuko's arm swoops into an arc and a torrent of fire bursts from his hand as he punches forward. Then he twists his wrist and the fire thins to a sharp whip as he slashes it around and around, whipping the flame as if it were a lasso. He then shoots small bursts, like miniature canons going off, toward the abyss of the mountain below. Just as the flames dissipate, he turns and gives me a pointed look.

It's not fair—you're a master and your chi is fine, I want to say, but I know it's just another excuse for him to throw in my face.

I just sigh. "Maybe I should meditate some more."

"It starts with the breath," he says, and takes a deep one for emphasis. "Once you learn to control your chi, you can learn to guide it, to isolate it to the part of the body you want power to exert."

Jeong Jeong had said nearly the same thing. It was the only advice he offered me today after watching me struggle. He then told Pakku I was unteachable, and called Zuko a fool for trying, until I learned how to breathe.

I plop down on the warmed stone, crossing my legs beneath me. I rub my eyes and temples in frustration. "I'm such a failure."

Zuko kneels in front of me and lifts my chin with finger, forcing me to meet his eyes. "Struggling is not failure. Trust me, I know all about that."

"Maybe I should just focus on using a weapon and stop wasting everyone's time."

"The girl I know would never say such a thing. She'd keep trying, keep fighting. She doesn't give up."

His hand has moved to the side of my face, his thumb brushing my cheek as I smile softly. "Stupid girl."

"Foolish, stupid girl," he agrees, but leans in and presses his lips to my forehead.

Later that night, my dad offers encouragement. "You are doing fine, Katara. Give yourself time."

"I don't have time, Dad. The moment Iroh tells us to move, we have to go. I need to be ready."

My dad watches me eat in silence. The meat is tender and perfectly roasted. He had taken a small group to the mountains and hunted the beast this morning.

After a long pause, he says, "You speak as if you are some untrained fighter. I watched you today, you—"

"It's not good enough, Dad. I can't afford to be weak. I won't be the anchor dragging down this ship."

"If you truly believe that, then maybe you shouldn't fight at all."

I look at him in surprise. Then my shoulders slump, because maybe…maybe he's right. Is it selfish of me to insist I fight, knowing that I'll never be as powerful as the others?

"I'll find a way," I say finally. "Some way to help."

"You are decent with a bow. Have you considered that to be your weapon of choice?"

I have, actually. I had caught Jin shooting the other day. Jin, sweet Jin, firing arrows into a target. Bowen had been teaching her. Better than giving her a sword, he had said. I had to agree there. Hand to hand combat was too hard to teach in so little time, especially with someone as fragile as Jin.

"I'll consider it," I finally say.

I stare at the stone wall for what feels like hours before deciding to take a walk. Zuko is sound asleep in the cot next to mine, an arm draped over the side. Asleep, he looks so peaceful, his dark hair falling messily across his face. I shift quietly so that he does not wake, and then tiptoe through the sleeping quarters to find Shai standing guard at the door.

"I'm just getting some fresh air in the courtyard," I tell him quietly.

"Do you want me to go with you?"

I wave him off. "No, I'll be back soon."

He hesitates, and I roll my eyes at him. "No one is attacking this fortress. Not at this hour." Firebenders are strongest in the day. Even if he did know of our location, which he doesn't, I don't think the Fire Lord would come knocking on our doors at night.

Shai nods. "Don't stay up too late."

The moon casts a glimmering glow over the mountains and cool stone of the temple. I stand in the courtyard and just gaze up at it, marveling at how beautiful it is. How empty I had felt without its comforting presence.

I sit down and close my eyes. Perhaps meditating at night will work better for me than in the morning. I breathe in and out, the only sound apart from the soft chattering of bugs and insects. It's so quiet up here, so peaceful.

"Oh Sokka," I breathe quietly, "I wish you were here."

"He is."

I jerk and open my eyes. Sitting across from me, having moved quieter than a shadow, is Jeong Jeong. His eyes are closed, legs crossed, palms facing up. He's so, so still, he could be carved from stone.

"My brother is gone." The word breaks in my voice. "Just like my home, like my bending, like June and Hama. All of it, gone forever."

"Ah. Gone." His eyes remain closed, his voice gruff. "What is this gone you speak of? Sokka is in the air that you breathe. He is in the sound of the waves. He is in the beat of your heart, in the blood in your veins, in the wind that stirs in the night. He is everywhere you are, because he is part of you." Jeong Jeong finally opens his eyes. "As for your home, your bending…What is gone can be lost, and what is lost can be found. You have suffered, and you have lost. But if you are willing to search for it, all that you have lost can be found again."

"How?"

"When you stop looking behind, and begin looking forward."

"I can't just forget the things I've seen, the things that have happened to me, the things I've done—"

"Never forget," Jeong Jeong says venementaly, his eyes sharp as steel. "Those that forget the past often repeat it, and do not learn from it."

I close my eyes. The Games and the horrors I've endured might haunt me forever, but…he's right. I have to continue moving forward. All this time I've wanted to forget the past, to forget the pain and anguish and deaths. But how can I face it, how can I learn, if I forget it? And Sokka, my best friend, my big brother…Jeong Jeong is right about him, too. Sokka will never leave me. Neither will June or Hama. They are with me, always. For as long as I am breathing, they are with me.

And so is my bending. This whole time I've blamed Zhao, and even though he has damaged me, the only person stopping me now…is me.

I take a breath, and move my hand toward one of the pots filled with water, but Jeong Jeong says, "No. Before you bend, you must learn how to breathe. You must breathe from within. From your core, from your very essence. Feel the power of the moon above—that is your greatest source of Waterbending, just as the sun is for Firebending."

I try again.

"Stand up," he says, and I do. "Presume your stance." I fall into a fighting stance, but he whacks my legs. "Wider. Bend your knees more. Good. Now breathe."

I breathe deeply, exhaling slowly.

"Good," says Jeong Jeong. "Do you feel the moon?"

"No," I admit quietly.

"Reach for it. Reach beyond what is near, and seek further in the distance."

I concentrate, searching for that pull, all the while breathing deeply. I can feel the water from the nearby pot, but I reach further. I feel the water of the mountain streams. I keep going. I reach and reach and—there. I feel it. Not water, but…something else. Something like power. Like the fuel to my power.

"I feel it. It feels so far away," I say.

"Hold onto it."

I do. I latch onto it with an iron grip in my mind.

"Where do you feel it?"

"I…I don't know."

"Then guide it. Guide it through your veins, through the blood that you can wield. Guide it so that it flows through the side of you that can bend."

Listening to his words, I concentrate and feel my chi reacting to the power of the moon, and guide it through my body. I reach out a hand, and pull the water from the pot. It slithers across the ground like a slippery snake. I curl my fist, molding the water into a whip. I lash at the pot—at the last second, I freeze it so that it crackles against the clay pot. The pot shatters.

"Good," says Jeong Jeong. "Now do it again."

I almost grin in satisfaction when a thought occurs to me. "What if this is all I can ever do? What if I can never summon huge waves, or wipe out an army with water?"

"You speak of power."

"Yes, I need to be powerful."

"Precision leads to discipline. Discipline leads to mastery. But power leads to destruction."

I lower my hand and look at him in question.

"I once had a pupil who had no interest in learning discipline." Jeong Jeong turns his face slightly, eyes caught on somewhere far away. "He was only concerned with the power of fire—how he could use it to destroy his enemies and wipe out the obstacles in his path. But fire is a horrible burden to bear. Its nature is to consume and without control it destroys everything around it."

"And water is so different?"

"Water is the counter to fire. Fire can give life—water can take it away."

I think about the time I had watched Hama drain the life from the plants. How bloodbending can do the same.

"If you cannot learn discipline and restraint, you risk destroying yourself and everything you love," says Jeong Jeong. He raises a hand and creates what looks like a small, sharp spear made of flame. Slowly, with great control and restraint, he guides it across the distance between us so that it stops just before my heart. It just stays there in midair, unwavering. "It is not about the size or power in the weapon, but about the placement. Even the smallest of weapons can cause the most damage, if only you are precise, and disciplined, and know where to strike."

Then he flings the fire away, so fast that it's nothing more than a blur of light. It lands in the wall, scorching the stone.

That night, when I'm so exhausted I fall asleep almost immediately, I dream of Sokka.

He didn't say a word. But he was smiling at me.

Days pass, and my bending improves. Even Pakku acknowledges my progress. He doesn't ask what triggered my improvement, but seems relieved to see it. Jeong Jeong doesn't work with me any more after that first night, but does offer me advice here and there. Mostly "widen your stance" and "remember to breathe," as if that were something easily forgettable.

After breakfast, Shai tells me where I can find Asami. I want to ask her about the biplanes, how soon they will be ready.

One of the large halls has been turned into a makeshift mechanic room. Supplies has been limited, which meant the damage the biplanes took during Zhao's attack have taken a long time to fix. Iroh could only risk sending so much at a time. The door to the mechanic room is cracked open, and as I approach, I hear Asami arguing with someone.

"Ursa will never agree to this."

"Ursa doesn't have to know," replies a deep male voice. Elias.

"I don't agree with this."

"Well, you don't give me orders."

"Elias—"

I move closer, peeking through the door. Asami stands there with her arms crossed; Elias close by, putting on his gloves. Goggles are draped around his neck. He drops his hands. "We made a deal, Asami. You said if I helped lead your people from Thirteen, I could leave once all was settled. With any transportation necessary."

"I know, but—"

"My daughter is out there," he snarls. Asami flinches. "If the Fire Lord knows what I've done, he will punish me by punishing her. He will—" Elias cuts himself off short and shakes his head once. "I will not lose her. She is all that matters to me."

The words were not harsh, but Asami straightens as if they were. And Elias's usually cold expression flickers. "Then you should go."

"I didn't mean—"

"No, you're right. A bargain is a bargain. An escort can take you. We need the plane back, and you could still betray us."

He takes a step closer. "You really think I would betray you?"

She shrugs. "Anyone will betray anyone for the right price."

He laughs coldly and shakes his head. "Then by all means, let's go."

"I'll go get Shai."

"Why?" Elias says sharply.

"Because I've trained him well, and I'm needed here."

Elias looks down just as Asami turns, heading my way. His quiet words make her pause, "Did it ever occur to you that I would come back?"

"Why?" she says softly. And when he says nothing, when he keeps looking down with a hard jaw, she says, "Don't."

Elias clenches his fists at his sides. I move away from the door as she approaches, hiding behind a large statue of an Airbender I don't know the name of. But I can still hear him say, "So that's it, then."

"Yes," she says quietly, "Goodbye, Elias."

If I didn't know her so well, I might have missed the sadness in her voice.

And Elias, he says nothing.

I half expected Elias to leave without Shai, but to my surprise, he's waiting by one of the biplanes when I arrive with Shai. I had used the excuse that I wanted to check on the updates with the planes, but really I wanted to see if he had already left. I tell no one about my eavesdropping. I'm not proud that I did it.

Elias glances at me—and over me, his eyes sliding over and around me. He doesn't seem to see what he wants, and his expression shifts into something unreadable. Anger, hurt, disappointment, I can't tell.

But then he looks at me, and his usual arrogance returns with a cruel twist of his mouth. "Come to see me off, I see."

"The day I've been waiting so eagerly for."

He lets out a barked laugh. His eyes fall on the table of prints and tools. He picks up a wrench and thoughtfully taps it twice on the table. His mouth works, and he sets the wrench down. When he looks back at me, he scowls. I fix my expression. I think pity was on my face.

"Well, thank you for helping us, even if we had to bribe you and force you," I say, trying to lighten the mood. I then nod at Shai. He lifts a dark piece of cloth and looks at Elias pointedly.

It takes him a moment to understand. "Are you serious? Blindfolding me?"

"Ursa insists," I say, though that was only partly true. It had been Asami's idea. But with the thoughtful and tender way he had looked at that wrench and work table…I couldn't quite say it.

"Fine," Elias grumbles as he climbs into the plane, which had been adjusted to accommodate two. "Be done with it."

Shai smirks and climbs the ladder next to the plane. He blindfolds Elias none too gently. I can't help but smile a little. Shai then climbs into the pilot seat. This hall was converted into the mechanic room because one of the walls is actually a giant door, opening up to hundreds of feet above ground. It was probably kept open in early days for Airbenders to fly in and out of. Statues had been shoved to edge of the walls to make room for the two planes and supply boxes. This room was probably once a sanctuary. Now it was covered in oil and tools.

I pull the ladder away from the plane as Shai pulls down his goggles and gets ready for takeoff.

"What's your daughter's name?" I call up to Elias.

He tenses slightly. "Why?"

"Just curious."

He's silent so long I don't think he's going to answer, but finally he says, "Alina."

"Alina," I repeat quietly. "Well, I hope you find Alina safe and unharmed, Elias. I truly do."

"Thank you," he says, just as quietly.

And because of the way he glances at the door again—glances blindly—I say, "You will be missed. Not by me, of course. But…you will be."

Shai turns at that, giving me a questioning look. And when Elias speaks, his voice is drained of all emotion. "I doubt it."

"I don't."

Shai fires up the biplane. They are in for a long ride, in which Shai plans to go into detail on what will happen to Elias if he betrays us. It's not a pretty story. As the door opens—Shai just uses his Earthbending to push open the stone—cool, crisp wind ruffles my hair. The sky is cloudy, a perfect day for flying under coverage. Shai gives me a wave before taking off. I wave back, feeling my heart drop.

Letting them go is such a risk, but a bargain was made, and Ursa will not go back on her word. The worst part is…Shai will not let them get captured. If things go south, he will take Elias's life, and then his own. I had been horrified when Ursa suggested it—even more horrified when Shai did not hesitate in agreement. I had looked at Asami then, but she was staring hard at the table in front of her.

So I stand at the edge of the room, staring off into the mountains and cloudy sky, watching the plane soar away, and wonder if I will see them again.

Three days pass, and no return of Shai. Ursa said it would be at least a week, maybe two, because Shai would make several stops, only traveling at night after the first day. But on the fifth day, we receive a letter from Iroh.

He's coming here in three days. Which means he is probably coming sooner.

And he is not coming alone.

A/N: As always, I am so appreciative of all of you. For your patience and kind words. It's hard to believe it has been YEARS that I've been writing this. I'm so excited and yet sad as we near the end. I think there will still be a good 5-8 more chapters to go. :) Review responses to come!

Time for a character Q&A! I know it's been a while. As always, you get to ask one question to a character.

Last thing..I've been working a little on upcoming projects. You guys know I plan on doing a Game of Thrones inspired fic, and you know I want to do Mulan, so I'm thinking that I'll actually incorporate the Mulan elements into the GoT story. So the re-telling will be woven into that, if that makes sense. :)