Summary:
After the betrayal of Jet, a polished rogue in the King's Guard, Katara of the Watertribe refuses the affection and offer of any man. Due to rising rebellion in the Earth Kingdom's Island Colonies, and its capital of Ba Sing Se, Chief Hakoda strives to protect his daughter and his people's way of life. Firelord Iroh pushes his nephew to marry Katara, whilst they struggle to have nothing to do with the other. Meanwhile Jet comes to win Katara to find an angry Waterbending Master, that refuses his lies and casts his true self into the light in the high society of the Earth Kingdom. Humiliated he seeks his revenge on not only his parent's murderers, but the country of their origin, and a prize he failed to gain, a blue eyed waterbender called Katara.
A.N
Once again, I regret to report that the fandom seems to be slowing. How sad. I really didn't like this chapter overall, but I do love several parts. I listed them in my ending AN so I didn't spoil the chapter. I hope you all like. Yay 800 reviews! I'd still love to break 1000, though. :)
Thanks to my fabulous beta, LostInLalaLand0820
Enjoy.
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Disclaimer: I do not own avatar, nor do I make any profit from this story
Arc III
Rating: T
Chapter 37: The Nomad's Drink
Zuko, Hakoda, and Toph
Previously:
"I only have one question, for now."
Zuko nodded in acknowledgement.
Sokka knew he'd get a reprimand for this from her later. He raised a hand to point at Katara.
"Why the hell did you let her come?"
Zuko stared at Sokka incredulously.
True that in any other circumstances he'd think it a very valid question, but with his wife submitting a burning glare any firebender would be proud of, he rethought his priorities.
Winning an argument (she'd make him feel like a loser anyway), or giving in and remaining clear of her pregnancy induced tempers (and keep collecting the sweet affection that made up the other side of that blade). (This sentence seems a little awkward... I think if you put a colon after 'priorities' then it would be less so.)
But Sokka was not a simpleton, as oft as Zuko was apt to call him away from his and his sister's ears. So the question that echoed his own protests only earned his brother-in-law a disbelieving gape.
Katara went very still for a moment then, abruptly, lost the sudden fire of anger. It was like popping a bubble made by too much soap in bathwater.
Zuko tensed slightly, nearly flinching in the wait for the usual explosion.
But Katara only grasped his hand and laid it gently against her midriff, entwining their fingers and bringing the other couple's attention to the unborn babe.
"Sokka," Katara began, tears warbling her voice, "What else can I do?"
Her brother nearly balked. Here came the explosion.
Sokka shot up with a vengeance, towering over the sitting form of the Fire Nation monarchs. His eyes spat the anger and the less obvious fear.
"Are you mad? No one is forcing you here!" He shot a hateful, suspicious glance towards Zuko, who in returned the glare with intensity.
"You're not, are you?"
"No!" Katara cried. "He did the same thing you're doing now! With," she continued, "considerably less volume and hostility! Who's the savage now, brother?"
Zuko sat stunned for a moment, balking over the use of the term savage.
Sokka didn't even flinch. He reached for his sister, grasping her shoulders tightly.
"Katara," his voice was nearly broken. "Do you want your child to live?" He punctuated his statement with a shake.
Zuko didn't hesitate to roughly pull Sokka's hands away.
"How dare you?" He hissed, concerned over the still, suddenly silent form of his lady. She made no resistance to him pulling her against his chest.
Zuko's hands were tight around Katara's waist, a blockade against the painful words of her brother. The Kyoshi warrior lent a restraining hand to Sokka's shoulder.
Sokka didn't blink, didn't acknowledge his fiancé. His eyes bored into the downcast gaze of his sister.
"Can you let the babe die? Knowing it's your fault?"
He had crossed a line. Katara sucked in a sobbing breath. Zuko was sure she'd already been beating herself over that very thing; in massive portions.
Zuko spun her in his arms, gathering her shaking form up.
"Leave."
It was an order from a man thrust too early into giving them. Suki began pulling on Sokka's sleeve. It was obvious that both the siblings needed to calm down.
But Katara sniffled suddenly, turning back to her brother, though, to Zuko's relief making no effort to release herself from his embrace.
Her voice was cold, but steady for all her tears.
"Could you let your child be born a target, Suki?"
Sokka's eyes widened, as did Suki's.
She met Katara's gaze head on. She looked as though she was searching for something.
And suddenly…
She'd found it.
"No."
She turned around, dropping Sokka's hand and exiting.
His wife didn't look at her brother. She spoke to the room at large in a quiet, echoing voice. But the words were only for one man.
"Could you stand idle?"
The seas were ripe and fine for a voyage.
The fleet was making excellent time towards the rendezvous point, a miniscule isle that dotted the sea Southeast of Kyoshi, and a nearly vertical path north from the pole.
Bato had been nothing but astute, and the chief appreciated it greatly.
Especially in a place where his children were absent and ashamed.
Of him.
Hakoda's fists clenched, a habit that was gathering wrinkles about his knuckles from the constant stretch of skin.
His mother in law shunned him, preferring even her old beau's company in his stead. His daughter hadn't said goodbye, hadn't written a verse. Sokka hadn't sent a complaint, hadn't asked for advice.
The only contact he'd had from the Land of Fire had been from the least expected source.
The newly instated Fire Lord was a busy man, but his script was not rushed, even if it was brief. It was short, to the direct end of the subject, a defining format for his daughter's husband. It told much of his patience (none), let on multitudes of his tact (very little), and spoke volumes of his principles (enough to choke a saint).
Of his love…
For Katara…
And the child.
Hakoda,
No honorable title. No flattering greeting. Just straight to the missive.
You have accused me. You have accounted your assumptions on my lineage. I cannot fault you. So many people choose the same vindictive spite that you have welcomed. You have called me a brute, cursed the bending the spirits saw fit to give me. However, your son has moved on. We are equal acquaintances. Kanna has decided that I warrant all her respect and nurturing, as does my child. Your man, Bato blesses our union. Shall you turn the tide for the rest of your people, moving them past blind scorn? Or do you cling to the fury you accused me of? The child is a hill beneath my hand, and I love it already. Katara glows with this continued gift. She has no regrets. Except perhaps, the absence of a grandfather to share that joy. She is stubborn and refuses to speak of you. I wrote only to tell you that despite what you believe, I love your daughter. And what you say means nothing to me at all. But it hurts Katara. And that is something I'll never allow.
Father of your grandchild, Son of Ursa
The wood was rough beneath his palms, worn from the many voyages of the Wolf Clan. Blue sails ripped with the effort of wind and speed induced by ocean benders. Pakku stood at the prow every time they halted to examine the currents. He worked in silence, only retreating from his watch when Kanna dragged him to rest.
It was impossible to ignore the regard he still held for her. Love that had survived scorn, time, and rejection.
The love between the chief and his wife would have been the same.
If only they hadn't been robbed of time.
His hands relaxed. Sokka was nothing but correct. Kya would've slapped him silly for his words before rushing to embrace her new son and bless her daughter's stomach.
His furs would have been cold of her absence for quite a while. She would've taken up with her mother and left him to repent and reflect.
Hakoda raised his eyes to the sea.
Kya was gone.
His children were gone.
But that didn't have to mean he had to ignore their examples.
He learned more from them each day.
Cream colored sails snapped in the wind against the horizon.
Hard, glorious earth.
She could smell it.
But she couldn't feel it.
She was restrained in the arms of some burly underling that constantly referred to itself in third person.
'The pebble', as she'd taken to calling him. Toph was quite used to thinking of him like a pet. She'd named him, played with him (his mind, anyway), and demanded he fetch her things.
Still, this close to his bulging chest; heartbeat thudding and vibrating near her ear; She could see each step rather than merely sensing the movement.
They walked upon hard earth, but she wasn't touching it. Normally, its presence was enough, but it was like a fog had settled against her senses. She'd suspect drugging if her mind wasn't so sharp. She twitched her fingers hopefully, but the rock remained silent and uncalled beneath her.
His heavy steps slid across the floor of the forest. The heavy movements thudded against nearby tree roots, revealing the presence of trees to her.
Many feet marched before her, and several behind. They journeyed inward in silence, releasing no hint as to their whereabouts.
Only one man had said anything useful.
"I'd slay for a barrel of the Nomad's drink."
His pained screams had followed the rush of heat that stole his breath and skin.
She never heard his voice again.
But his words echoed far in Toph's sightless mind. The Nomad's drink was a potent grain mead produced by the elusive Air People.
Aang's people.
Their temple's were hidden. And they left shipments of the mead on the outskirts of town, while disappearing with the products they had demanded in return. Usually it was merely steel and wood.
The Air People hid at the four directionals of the world, north, east, south, and west. From Aang's ramblings, she knew that the Western and eastern temple were only accessible by land. The North and South by air.
They hadn't traveled long enough, even with the added muddled days of Toph's unconsciousness, to reach the North or West. The Eastern temple was far across the other side of the Earth Kingdom, past Omashu and the peak of mountains that surrounded the city.
If they were close enough to find the Nomad's drink, the only temple near enough was the Southern.
Leaving them in either the South Pole or the Southern Earth Kingdom.
There was no bite of cold air against her exposed face and hands.
Mentally remembering the tutors that had ran her fingers against a specially made map (one with ridges and pits and miniature cities and trees), Toph recalled their words. She could not see the names of cities and rivers, but the touch against the map whilst they taught her rhymes for each region enabled her to learn the places of this world.
'West of fire,
North of snow,
South of ice,
And East of stone.
The motherland,
Her proud, brown earth,
North in her folds lies the city great,
South in her apron, Sansaki's gate.'
Toph smiled, pleased with herself.
Sansaki forest, the last great swell of greenery left across the Earth Kingdom. It rivaled the size of the Fire Nation plus the North Pole. It was vast and common, as familiar as the legends of the owl in the desert or the panda in the bamboo.
It was an excellent place for a rebellion. The fastest ostrich horses took weeks to cross from one end to the other without staying from a straight path. Rebels were hidden well here.
Toph was glad to have her bearings, and pained to know the difficulty her rescuers (or herself) would have in finding their way.
If she couldn't help herself, at least she could attempt to help them.
Turning her head and shutting her eyes in a mockery of rest, Toph pushed the small stone bracelet that Sokka had given her with her elbow. She widened the hole that kept it clasped and let it fall to her chest, below her bound arms. Leaning her head down ever so slightly, as to avoid attention, she clenched the metallic end with her teeth.
And spat.
A satisfying, quiet thud indicated the target smacking into the leafy floor.
Sokka would have been proud.
A.N: Those sections I mentioned before? Here they are: Zuko's way of signing the letter, Suki's understanding, and the rhyme Toph learned from her tutors.
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