Waiting was Katara's least favourite part of any plan.
There was no way of knowing what was going on with the others – had the Northern Air Temple been taken over by the Fire Nation for real this time? Could Appa make the trip? Were Aang and Sokka and Ursa still safe, still together? There was too much to go wrong and nothing to distract her from the possibilities. She wished, more than anything, that the three were still right where she could see them, protected by allies and seclusion.
'Wow,' she thought, standing on one of the bridges connecting the separate mountains of the temple, leaning against the railing and grimacing. 'If I'm this anxious now, what am I going to do when everyone else is in Ba Sing Se?'
Then again, maybe she would be too busy saving Toph to really worry about anyone else. That would certainly make things easier – there was nothing more terrifying than one's own imagination when waiting for the reality of a situation to rear its ugly head (though, maybe it would have a lovely head. That was the thing; there was no way of knowing how these things would turn out).
Tilting her face up to the sun, she sucked in a lungful of pristine mountain air, letting it out slowly. The others would be fine – they were probably on their way back now, gliding along in airships loaded with allies from the other temple. The Fire Nation would be too busy prepping for the attack on Ba Sing Se to care about one measly inventor. She had absolutely no reason to worry.
A loud bang sounded. Katara jerked her head toward it, dull pain shooting through her neck at the abruptness of the action, only to see smoke billowing high into the sky.
An explosion.
Without thought, she ran across the bridge in the direction of the smoke, pausing only to note the buildings near it and mark the destination on her mental map of the temple. Her footsteps echoed on the stone floors and walls as she dashed into one of the corridors, the noise ricocheting in every direction so it sounded like someone was following her. Hairs on the back of her neck already standing on end, she chanced a glance over her shoulder – nothing.
Then she was bursting out of the shadowed hall into a sunlit courtyard full of debris and overgrown with vegetation. Directly across from her was a wide plateau that walled off the entire backend of the square, a crumbling and cracked and generally unstable staircase leading up to it. Beside it, someone had hastily deployed a rope ladder, hanging slightly lopsided and fluttering in the breeze.
Another explosion sounded, causing the earth to tremble and the staircase to shed a layer of dirt.
Drawing a breath, Katara ran to the other side of the courtyard, grabbed a woven rung, and proceeded to climb.
"What –" she started to as she pulled herself onto the flat top of the plateau, gaze darting in search of the attacker. Instead she found Zuko sprawled on his back, wincing, the ground smouldering a few feet away. Rushing closer, she kneeled at his side and drew a globe of water from the pouch at her hip. "Where are you hurt?"
Propping himself up on his elbows, he shook his head and forced a reassuring smile, saying, "It's just a couple bruises – no need to waste your energy."
"What . . ." She looked from him to the rising smoke and back again, brow knit and water still at the ready. "What happened?"
"I still can't make lightning."
When Katara continued to look confused, he sighed and got to his feet, gesturing for her to step back. Then, moving his hands in slow circles, he inhaled deeply and locked his gaze on the now-blackened spot of earth; his target. A mixture of fear and excitement swelled in Katara's gut as she pictured blue sparks leaping between his pointed fingers, remembering how Azula had used the technique with such cold precision.
Zuko brought his fingers together, held them still for an instant, then shot one finger straight out.
The air in front of him exploded, throwing him backward.
Katara rushed back to his side as Zuko sat upright with a grimace, extending her hand toward him and smiling sympathetically. Accepting her hand, he allowed her to pull him to his feet, his back cracking at the movement and her fingers tingling at his touch.
"So, what exactly is going wrong?" she asked, quickly withdrawing her hand and stepping back, all too aware that she liked him and he liked her and they were going to be alone together on a potentially deadly mission but they couldn't be together because of Ursa and politics andandand –
He stared at, bewildered. Oh no – had she said any of that aloud?
Apparently not, because his next words were: "I keep creating an explosion. What do you mean, 'What's wrong'?"
"No, I know that! I just mean, why? Why are things exploding instead of . . . lightning-ing?"
Dear Yue, she was losing her mind.
Running a hand through his hair (Had it gotten longer? Should she offer to cut it? Would that be weird?), he sighed in frustration. "I don't know. Before it was because I had inner turmoil and couldn't achieve peace of mind, but I'm over that now. My head is clear, I'm on the right path . . ." he finished with a low growl, kicking a loose rock into the courtyard below.
Watching it fall and skip across the cracked earth, Katara wracked her brain for helpful advice and words of encouragement. She drew a blank, mind bouncing between the images of Azula cackling evilly while lightning flashed behind her and Zuko heroically (and, strangely, shirtlessly) catching a bolt in his bare hands, then throwing it back into the sky. That was all she knew about lightning, or at least all the information her mind was willing to cough up at the moment.
"Why do you need it?" she asked, instead. "Lightning, I mean?"
Staring out across the horizon with a distant, troubled expression, Zuko said, "I'm going to be facing Azula – I need all the fire power I can get."
"We," she corrected, moving closer and touching his arm, reassuring him while also prompting him to meet her gaze. Smiling encouragingly, she tried to ignore the pleasant warmth of his skin and continued, "We're facing Azula, together. Plus, we're being sneaky about it – with any luck, she'll never even know we were –"
But Zuko was already shaking his head, knuckles popping as he balled his hands into tight fists. "We have to face her eventually if we want a proper ruler on the throne. Both uncle and I are viewed as traitors, so father would have Azula as his heir."
"So . . . we actually have to . . . kill her? Not just hold her off long enough to grab Toph and go?"
"That or prove her mentally unfit to rule. Seeing as there once was a Fire Lord who banned pickles because they were 'evil' and declared war on anyone who ate them, I'd say we're stuck with the first option."
Katara's gut twisted at the thought, the image of blood on snow flashing through her mind. Despite seeing the war at its ugliest and hating Azula for all she was worth, the idea of killing her was hard to process. Killing Azula meant Katara would be a killer, and that just didn't fit – she was a healer, she saved lives and thwarted the Spirit World's efforts to steal her loved ones.
But they were in a war and didn't have time for hesitation or alterations or putting the future Fire Lord on trial for her sanity.
"Hey," Zuko said softly, noticing her distress. Resting a hand on her shoulder, he gave it the slightest of squeezes and offered a small smile. "Don't worry about it – I can take care or Azula, with or without lightning."
Swallowing and forcing her expression to one of determination, Katara shook her head firmly. "No, I'm helping you. We're a team."
A frown tugged at his lips. Before he could protest, however, a shriek drew his attention skyward, where a dragon-hawk was swooping down toward them. Lifting his arm in an almost reflexive manner, Zuko winced as the bird took its perch, talons digging into his skin.
Stepping closer, Katara slid off the scroll that had been attached to its leg and unrolled it. She stared. Then she tiled her head and squinted. "It . . . It's a bunch of scribbles."
"Let me see."
Turning it to him, Katara watched as Zuko squinted and inclined his head in much the same way she had before finally declaring, "It's a letter from Toph. I'm not sure what it says, but . . . being able to send this means she's safe. In the palace with Azula, but safe."
"How do you know it's from the palace? Toph could've escaped and bought her own dragon-hawk."
"This is my personal dragon-hawk," Zuko explained, stroking the bird's feathers. It ruffled its wings, the action forcing it to dig its talons in further if Zuko's gasp of pain was any indication. Through gritted teeth, he continued, "It knows my scent and can find me anywhere in the world."
"What?" Immediately, she started scanning the horizon for signs of an airship, sputtering, "Azula! The palace! She could've – that bird could've led her right to us!"
The animal in question squawked, turning its head so one eye looked sharply at her as if insulted.
"Dragon-hawks are incredibly prideful – if Azula or any of the royal guards tried to follow it, it would believe they doubted its abilities and be hugely offended." Smirking as he glanced between her and the bird piercing bloody holes in his arm, he added, "And you do not want to deal with an angry dragon-hawk."
"Oh. Um . . ." Stepping back, Katara eyed the bird warily. "Sorry, uh, Zuko's bird. Didn't mean to upset you." Then, gaze dropping to where it perched, she winced and asked, "Do you want me to heal that?"
Zuko grimaced. "Please."
XxXx
Something dark passed over the sun, casting a brief shadow over the temple. Was it a ship? Jet squinted; no, just a cloud. Sighing, he closed his eyes and massaged them gently, a halo-shaped afterimage dancing across his eyelids. Still no sign of Aang or the others. The day of the Comet loomed closer and everyone was growing antsy, him especially – if anything happened to the Avatar, they were pretty well screwed.
What was taking them so long, anyway? Weren't the airships supposed to be already built?
Though, knowing their luck, The Mechanic or whatever he was called would only give them a pile of parts and a confusing set of instructions. Or nothing. Who was to say the Northern Air Temple was even a secure location? The Fire Nation knew the colony there existed and had exploited them in the past and, now that they had airships at their disposal, attacking it would be easier than any of the raids the Freedom Fighters ever led (and some of those had been incredibly simple).
If it was up to him, Aang wouldn't be involved at all. But, hey, if the Avatar wanted to risk his neck rounding up some support before the big, ultimate battle, who was he to argue against that?
"You'll burn your eyes out staring at the sun."
Jet suppressed a groan, turning to face Mai with a look of mild annoyance. Try as he might, he could never quite match her blank-slate expression. "What do you want?"
Shrugging, she continued to wordlessly study him in a manner that somehow managed to encompass both boredom and curiosity. The only thing more unnerving than her talking to him was her not talking to him, if only because there was absolutely no way to tell what she was thinking. Letting out a short growl, he resumed squinting at the sun. For a moment they just stood in silence, a gentle breeze tugging at their hair and clothes.
"It . . ." Mai finally said, a trace of uncertainty in her voice. "It's fun."
Jet glanced over his shoulder, brow furrowed.
"Annoying you is fun."
He snorted. "What? Am I your new hobby or something?"
". . . I guess."
His scowl returned in full force. Great – now he not only had to work with the enemy, but he had to endure her twisted idea of fun. Clearly, the universe loved making him miserable (as did Mai, evidently).
Worse, he couldn't even do anything about it. He couldn't attack her like he so often wanted to, thanks to her being an "ally", and he couldn't harass her in return because she never reacted. It was like picking a fight with a stone wall; no one would condone it and there was no way to win.
As far as he was concerned, the Comet couldn't come quick enough.
"Is that what you've been waiting for?"
Following the direction Mai indicated, Jet looked up at the cloud spotted sky and saw a small cluster of dark shapes moving closer. At such a distance they could've been birds, but as they neared the temple they were distinguishable as airships with blue arrows hastily painted on them.
Aang was back. It was time to kick some ass.
XxXx
"Are you sure it's from Toph?" Sokka asked as he studied the ink spattered piece of paper, leaning against the gondola of massive airship he had flown in on. The group – which included "Team Avatar", the White Lotus Society, and Teo as well as several other Northern Air Temple residents – had assembled in a wide space of the Eastern Air Temple originally intended for sky bison, the only place big enough to hold all of them plus the three dirigibles they had acquired.
It was a lot to take in – not just the hulking masses of metal with bright blue arrows painted along each side, but all the familiar (not to mention some unfamiliar) faces gathered around, listening to the discussion the recent arrival of a letter. The dusty and disused, sun-bleached stone temple was suddenly vibrant, full of life.
Katara, deciding they should go into battle donning the colours of their respective nations instead of their red disguises, had busied herself during the slow, tense weeks at the Eastern Air temple by modifying everyone's old clothes. Well, everyone save herself and Zuko; she had sewn entirely new, simple black outfits for them as soon as it was decided that they would be saving Toph, expecting it to be a stealthy job. The only people who outright declined her offer were the White Lotus, who opted to wear their robes instead ("I'd say it's time we show the world the strength of us old folk, wouldn't you?" Bumi had cackled).
"Positive," Zuko said in answer to Sokka's question, standing beside him with arms crossed. "I can't read all of it, but I know that's her signature."
"What does the rest of it say?"
He shrugged. "Something about Ozai and a city. I'm assuming she's just trying to tell us she's in the capital."
"You guys had better hurry then," said Aang, who stood at Sokka's other side, looking up from the letter to Zuko and Katara. "Maybe you'll be able to get to the palace before the Comet arrives."
"I somehow doubt that," Zuko muttered.
Jet, standing across from the four friends, donned his usual frown and said, "It could be a trap. How do we know Azula didn't write that and send Toph to the Boiling Rock or something?"
"We don't," Katara admitted with a shrug. "But we still have to try. Trap or no trap, Toph needs saving and Azula needs butt-kicking."
"Whoa-whoa-whoa!" Sokka said, straightening away from the airship while shooting his sister a bewildered look. "Butt-kicking? I thought the plan was to go all Blue-Spirit-and-Paint-Lady stealth mission!"
Raising an eyebrow, Zuko glanced at Katara, a question on his slightly upturned lips. Thankfully, he refrained from voicing his curiosity and simply informed Sokka of the need to face Azula. "Right now, she's the heir to the throne. The only way to ensure uncle becomes the next Fire Lord is if she's dead."
"So you're charging in – just the two of you – against a super-powerful, Comet-enhanced, lightning-bolt-throwing, crazy lady that all of us –" Sokka gestured to the original group "– couldn't even keep at bay . . . Are you insane?"
"It's not like we have a choice," Zuko snapped, eyes narrowing. "Ba Sing Se is the priority; you need all the fighters you can get."
"I think we have a few to spare," Piandao said, gaze sweeping meaningfully over the large crowd assembled. "Three or four warriors won't make such a difference on a battlefield like Ba Sing Se."
After further discussion, it was eventually decided that Zuko and Katara would face off against Azula with the help of Teo (who knew how to operate the airship), Jet, and Mai. There priority was to get Toph to safety – preferably on the airship – then take out Azula and her guards using whatever means necessary. If all went according to plan and they were still in well enough shape to fight, they would head to Ba Sing Se.
In the meantime, the others would travel to the aforementioned walled city and divide their efforts between the sky and the ground so that Aang could focus all his energy on killing Ozai. When told he couldn't stop for anything until his job was finished, however, Aang was reluctant to agree.
"What if you guys are in serious trouble? I can't just not help you!"
"Yes, you can," Iroh said sternly, his usual jovial attitude seeming to have completely vanished. "Your priority is killing the Fire Lord so that my nephew may seize the throne. If you waver from that for any reason, we could lose the most important part of the battle. At this stage, helping your friends will only hurt the rest of the world.
Aang fell silent, head drooping as if the old man's words carried physical weight.
With their duties outlined and the time before the Comet growing shorter, everyone began piling into the airships, tossing out wishes of luck and "goodbye"s as they went. Katara felt as if her insides had tied themselves in knots and were trying to evacuate via her throat. This was it. This was where everything could go horribly, irreversibly downhill.
"Hey."
The simple syllable carried both impatience and concern, prompting her to turn away from her friends climbing into the other two airships and look up at the entry to her own. Zuko stood with his hand extended to her, brow slightly furrowed. Behind him, Jet managed to ignore his hatred for the people on either side of him and stared down at Katara expectantly. Mai had her arms crossed, expression bored even as her gaze seemed to drill into Katara's skull, clearly looking for explanation of the delay. Teo, who had already rolled over to the steering wheel and was all prepped for take-off, looked back at them, asking, "What's the hold up?"
"Nothing," Katara answered quickly, taking Zuko's hand and letting him help her up into the cockpit. "Let's fly."
XxXx
The rough cliffs of the vast canyon below gave way to a cerulean bay divided by a thin, winding strip of land, the enormous walls of Ba Sing Se a mere speck in the distance. They drifted along at a steady pace, but it wasn't near fast enough for Ozai. He could feel the Comet approaching, its power beginning to course through his veins like lava bubbling out of a volcano. The slightest hint of crimson began to colour the sky.
Finally, a century since its beginning, he would finish what his grandfather had started.
Author's Notes: Sorry for the delay! Part of it is 'cause of Zutara Week, but mostly I just found this chapter hard to write. There's a lot of people and things to keep track of - I hope it all makes sense. xD Also, writer's block seems to enjoy rearing it's ugly head when I actually have plenty of free time to write. Oh,the irony!
Tell me what you guys think!
Disclaimer: "Avatar: The Last Airbender" and all of its characters are property of Nickelodeon, which I am in no way associated with.
