193 rd day of our journey. Chameleon Bay.

Today, just after sundown, the men scuttled our ships and then, with the help of my waterbending and Toph's earthbending, we managed to sink the whole fleet in less than an hour, leaving prominent signs of the wreckage. Then we abandoned them, letting the Fire Nation think we'd already been defeated.

We are waiting now under cover of dark, behind an outcrop of rock for the arrival of the enemy Scout ship. It should arrive early tomorrow morning. Then we will see if Sokka's plan works.

The Avatar remains weak and completely ignorant of the tense drama that will soon unfold about him.

It was hard for me to see Aang bleed again.

It wasn't their fault – the men were very careful, but a ship's hold and a ship's tender are meant for able-bodied people, not for someone who has to be carried: there was an inevitable amount of jostling and the sea was rough, with an easterly wind that whipped up a large swell.

I sat near him in the boat after we scuttled our vessels –it was only a short trip from where the ships had been to shore, but the waves threw the little boat around mercilessly, and the men had a hard time lifting Aang out of the boat safely in the rolling breakers.

When we were finally ashore, I saw he had turned paler than white and sure enough, the pelt on his litter was red.

'He's bleeding!' I cried.

My heart in my mouth, I hurried after the men as they carried Aang over an embankment, where a tiny conglomeration of blue tents had been set up, and put him down gently in the largest. Vaguely I recall seeing the men crowd around with anxious faces, but my attention was only on Aang – I threw myself on my knees besides him, rolling him gently to his side.

'I'll help.'

Looking up, I saw Sokka come into the tent followed by Toph, who sat down in the far corner of the tent in silence.

'Help me get these bandages off him, then I'll need some –'

'- water. Here you go.' Dad was at the tent entrance, already holding a bowl of water.

I worked tirelessly to staunch the flow of blood from Aang's wound. The healing water turned red again and again as I passed it over the wound in his back: the central depression kept darkening with the welling of blood in it, but I willed the healing water to glow brighter, sealing off the fragile veins, stemming the flow and re-aligning the weak Chi force around the wound, in the hope that the healing process would resume... but the original damage was so deep, the bleeding could be coming from anywhere, not just the superficial layers of the skin.

An absolute silence reigned in that small tent, punctured only by my terse instructions to Sokka to turn Aang slightly this way or that...

Finally, the seeping blood slowed to a trickle and stopped, and I found I could breathe again. Sokka raised Aang to a sitting position while I re-bandaged the wound.

'Let's leave him on his side for a while, I wanna make sure it's stopped,' I told Sokka in a choked voice, then I sat back heavily, gazing down at my blood-smeared hands. They were shaking.

I was shaking.

'You ok?'

I glanced up. Sokka, who was on Aang's other side, was looking at me in concern. Behind him was Toph, sitting with both hands splayed, palm down, on the ground near Aang's litter. The long strands of hair covering her face did not completely hide her worried expression, and I knew that she was searching, with her hands, for the weakly-beating heart that lay between us. At the tent door, my father looked gravely on.

I turned to my brother and nodded, clasping my hands together to keep them from shaking.

'I – yeah, I'm ok. It didn't bleed so bad, really. I don't know why I ...' I gave a helpless shrug, unable to explain why I felt so shaken, so drained – I had seen worse bleeding in Yagoda's Infirmary.

'He'll be ok,' Sokka leaned over and squeezed my shoulder, with a small smile, 'He has no other choice, with you – you'll pull him through, come what may!'

'Yeah- Twinkletoes is lucky to have you!' Toph's blind eyes gleamed unusually soft from beneath her untidy hair 'And d'you know what? You're doin' right, Katara! You know I can tell from his heartbeat and breathing...'

'But they're so slow...'

'Yet they're steadier than what they were when we left Ba Sing Se.'

'You think so?'

'Just a bit – but I can tell: the difference is there.'

'It's just that sometimes I wonder if I'm doing things right. If I'm even good enough...'

'Not doing things right?! Katara - you brought Aang back to life again! You saved him!' Sokka insisted.

'Aang wouldn't have needed saving if he hadn't come back to Ba Sing Se. He came back because of me. This shouldn't have happened!'

'Why don't you go and prepare your sister something warm to drink?' Dad said suddenly from the tent entrance 'It's a pretty chilly night.'

Sokka and Dad exchanged a look, then my brother went out, followed by Toph.

I stiffened as Dad crawled into the tent. I didn't want to hear about how this wasn't my fault or how I'm doing things right! If I was a good healer, Aang wouldn't be like this!

But Dad said nothing and just sat looking at me with that unnerving, steady gaze. I busied myself making Aang more comfortable, all the time aware that I was being watched. Finally I looked up at him in exasperation - I just wanted to be left alone!

The expression on his face, however, took me completely by surprise: it was sad, unequivocally and painfully sad.

He saw me looking and seemed to shake himself out of his thoughts.

'He is very young, Katara – so very young to be shouldering the responsibilities an Avatar has to.'

'Aang can do it!' I retorted, bristling immediately 'He's really learnt a lot!'

'Katara, you were brought up on stories of the Avatar. You always loved Gran Gran's tales of the legendary feats of strength of Avatar Kuruk, and amazing stories of other Avatars, but they were always fully-realised Avatars. Sokka told me how you found this young airbender in an Iceberg, where he'd been frozen for a hundred years.'

'What your point?' I asked, crossly.

What did Dad know of Aang's abilities? He had barely seen him, except as an invalid...

'My point is that training and learning to bend the elements - even learning to control the Avatar State - are only a part of it. Sometimes, experience, and making the right decisions, may count more than strength or weapons...'

'That's why we're helping him. We're a team! He's not alone.'

'You're right. He cannot win this war alone – he'll need allies to undo what a 100 years of Fire Nation aggression have brought to the world, but that's a lot for one young boy to face: he can make mistakes. I know.'

I looked up quickly.

'Did Bato tell you?' I asked.

Bato and Dad are very close friends - he might've told him of that time when we went our separate ways, leaving Aang at the Abbey after he stole our message ... but that had been our mistake as much as Aang's!

'Bato told me the young Avatar made an excellent crew manning the jib during Ice Dodging,' Dad said with a smile.

He did not appear angry or upset. I hung my head.

'Yes, he can make mistakes - so can we all….' I agreed with a sigh, looking at the still, marble-like features of the young airbender in front of me.

'The problem is that when an Avatar makes a mistake,' my father said seriously 'the consequences could be very far-reaching and disastrous.'

'Aang won't repeat those same mistakes!' I retorted heatedly 'He was just afraid of losing us, that's all – we're the only family he had!'

There was a pregnant silence.

'You're still the only family he has,' Dada said, softly 'Maybe more than that...'

'What d'you mean?!'

'It seems to me you see him more than just the Avatar.'

'Of course, he's more than just the Avatar! He's Aang – he's family! And a friend! Our friend,' I replied, wilfully misunderstanding him. 'And what d'you mean 'just' the Avatar? I think that's more than enough to handle: you said so yourself! You said –'

'Katara –' Dad interrupted, putting a hand on my shoulder to stop me, as he fixed me with an earnest gaze. 'I can see how much you care for this young Avatar ... way beyond what mere duty would dictate: you've poured so much of your heart and soul into healing him that there seemed nothing left of you. You had me worried those first couple of days when you came back from Ba Sing Se...'

I felt a constricting feeling in my throat and turned away from him. It was still a waking nightmare for me, and I hardly wanted to discuss it.

'I have no doubt that you're a tightly-knit team – 'Team Avatar' - as your brother describes it. Given what Sokka has said about your adventures, it can hardly be otherwise. This young Airbender is lucky to have found such good friends, and I can understand why he's so fond of you, Katara ...'

I looked round, the color draining from my face, but my father had a small smile on his.

'I can read between the lines of what Sokka has said about your adventures, as well as what he hasn't, and your blind friend, Toph, has this uncanny ability to read one's heart-rhythm:"If Aang's heart beat even half as fast as when he looked at Katara the night of Bosco's party, it'd be back to normal," I heard her telling your brother.'

'Oh. That – that was nothing.'

'It was something for the young Avatar. Toph said you were beautifully dressed, and you actually gate-crashed the Earth King's party!' Dad looked at me with a wistful smile 'You have grown so much...'

I didn't know what to say. Half of me was still wondering what on earth Toph and Sokka were saying, (or not saying) behind my back about our adventures that gave Dad so much to read 'between the lines'...

I hadn't even figured out exactly what I felt myself, until the aftermath of that tragic night in the Crystal Catacombs, yet here was Dad already guessing the truth. Sokka and Toph too, for all I know...

The other half of me wished Dad would stop talking about it. I was sure he was trying to tell me something that I was just as sure I would not like. It was bad enough my nerves were in tatters over Aang's recent bleeding episode, which had shaken me much more than it should.

I'm a Healer - I should take such things into my stride, not dissolve in a shaking puddle of apprehension!

But Dad was continuing: 'I haven't had the pleasure of getting to know the Avatar yet, but I know what he has to face... perhaps more than he does himself, and I know that he needs to reward all that faith people like you have placed in him ...and believe me, there are many, many, people who still believe in the Avatar. And now, after a 100 years of waiting, expectancies are high. We should help, not hinder him.'

'What are you saying?' I asked, sharply.

My father fell silent for a while, the rigid lines of his craggy, weather-beaten face softened by the last rays of the dying sun filtering in through the tent opening.

When he spoke again, it was not what I had expected:

'When I was young, I was head-over-heels in love with your mother,' he said, softly 'literally – for she pushed me off an ice floe for gawping at her!'

I gave a spluttering laugh, in spite of myself. I hadn't known that.

'She was from another large village – there were quite a few of them those days,' he continued 'As a young girl, she used to come in summer to be taught how to read and write, and appreciate the ancient manuscripts of our Tribe's Sagas by your Grandmother. Few girls bothered those days, but your Grandmother Kanna had other ideas, and willingly taught anyone keen to learn, so Kya joined me for lessons. When the raids intensified, leaching away the Southern Water Tribe's strength, I didn't see her for several years – those times were chaotic, but eventually, relatively quiet times came again, one day I saw her fishing on the ice floes... she had grown so beautiful, I couldn't stop staring at her!'

My father's eyes took on a dreamy look, tempered with an indefinable sadness. I held my breath: this was one part of my Mom's life I didn't know very well – I was too young, then, to be told their love story, though I could see its result every day before my eyes. Then, when Mom died, Dad had refused to speak about her for a long time...

'I used to brave the worst blizzard in winter just to visit Kya –' he continued with wry grin 'I knew if I arrived there half-frozen she'd take pity on me and let me in. The simple trick worked every time and I got to enjoy her fussing over me ... it was well worth getting frozen for! She had a good heart – like you, Katara.'

I smiled.

'I'm afraid risking getting frozen to death was not the only stupid thing I did ...' he continued, his face turning serious 'I skipped many days of warrior training just to be with your mother, and was generally distracted and acted more of a fool than usual : your Grandad was pretty mad at me ... I was the Chief's son and had duties and responsibilities I was not supposed to be shirking, but my Mom - Gran Gran – spoke up for me: They're small mistakes, she said, he's still very young and in love...'

I frowned, instinctively feeling that Dad's story had a moral to it: one that I already knew and did not like. But I was mistaken:

'Your Grandmother was right, Katara: they were just the thoughtless, silly things someone young and in love would do... quite harmless and even to be expected, if that love is true. And for me, it was.'

He looked at me and took a deep breath. 'But one day, my love for your mother made me make a mistake that had disastrous consequences ... I made a bad decision and because of it, an entire village was wiped out: your mother's village.'

'What? She never told me!'

'That's because she never knew. I was too ashamed to tell her. I have never spoken of it to anyone, but my father ... and you.'

'What happened?' I breathed, with a prickling sense of dread.

'It was the end of summer, and your mother and I had just started courting: we had agreed to meet at midnight to hear the Dolphin-whale's song ...you know how spectacular it sounds over the still water...'

I nodded, with a twinge of nostalgia. I'd heard their plaintive, whistling, songs echoing among the icebergs many times.

'I was supposed to be training to sail and command a ship on my father's fleet some distance out at sea, but I had deserted during the night, intending to reach Kya by moonlight and then get back by dawn, before anyone knew I was gone.

I canoed my way to her for several hours when, just before midnight, I saw the distant red glow of several Fire Nation ships heading straight for Kya's village. Most of the men in Kya's village were with my father's fleet, so the place was completely vulnerable…' He paused, frowning.

'What did you do?'

'What I should have done was canoe furiously back to my fleet and warn my father: our fleet would probably have been just in time to stop them – or at least, battle it out at their village, and prevent them from wreaking the damage they did. They were nothing but ruthless Fire Nation Pirates, using Fire Nation propaganda as their excuse to pillage and burn and-' he stopped, the muscles on his jaw working at the memory.

'Why didn't you go back and warn Grandad?'

'I couldn't. I knew exactly where Kya was waiting for me - on a promontory of ice some miles from the village at the edge of the sea – she was right in the path of the Fire Nation ships! She would have been the first to be taken.'

'So you saved Mom. But that's not wrong!'

'Isn't it? I acted without thinking – impulsively and instinctively - saving the woman I loved. I found your mother just in time and persuaded her to get in the canoe with me so we'd go for help. We did, but I had lost too much time - when our fleet arrived at the village, it was too late. Your mother and the other men were distraught at the carnage ...' he heaved a deep sigh, and continued 'No-one, including Kya, ever knew I might have been in time to save the village ... had she known, she would have been the first to say that my decision was wrong – even though it was to save her own life. She was like that...'

'Yes, I know she was,' I muttered sadly. Oh spirits, how well I knew that!

'I told no-one but your grandfather - I told him I wasn't fit to be a Chief's son and he should hand over the title to someone else. It was a wretched time. Kya was living with us, but she was depressed and sad at losing her entire family and her entire village. It made me feel doubly guilty and confused.'

Dad seemed lost in thought, his craggy face just a dark shadow against the dim light from the night outside the tent.

'But you're still Chief Hakoda ... ever since Grandad died.'

'That's because he refused to let me hand over my title to someone else – "You've shirked your responsibilities to your tribe once – let it be a lesson to you," he told me "A lesson you will never forget – the tribe, your men, come first – love must come second,".'

'That's not true! How can you say that?! '

'I did not say it – your grandfather did. I never regretted choosing to save your mother, but your Granddad was right, too. Making choices for the greater good and sacrificing your own desires is what is expected of a leader. That's why the position of leader is a lonely one: nothing must distract you from your duties to the tribe as a whole and to go where it is necessary for you to be. I learnt my lesson the hard way.'

Another silence fell between us as I went over my father's words in my mind. In the darkening tent, Aang was just a pale shape lying on the ground before me, inches away but unreachable.

'I know what you're telling me,' I said finally in a deadpan voice I barely recognised as my own, 'but Aang won't make that mistake. He's learnt a lot and he knows what's important'.

'Katara, this young Airbender went straight to Ba Sing Se to save you, and he died there!'

That was more than my already battered heart could take:

'You'd rather he left me buried in the catacombs, wouldn't you!? It wasn't the right decision!' I choked out 'Well, let me tell you something – I wish he had, too! I wish –!' but my voice was lost in a sob.

I felt Dad's hand on my shoulder, but I shook it off. Didn't he know how desperately I wanted Aang never to have come for me? Didn't he know the anguish I felt in knowing I'd inadvertently lured him to his death? He didn't have to tell me that! I wiped away the tears angrily.

'All I meant was, that there may have been other ways of tackling the problem, other possibilities...' Dad was saying.

'Well, he didn't know what he was going to find in Ba Sing Se, did he? Anyway, Sokka came to help me, too. Sokka!'

Not you were my unspoken words. I gazed stonily at the dark silhouette of my father against the tent opening. I saw him draw back a little, but I couldn't read his expression in the dark. It was the second time I had brought up the fact that he hadn't come for me, his daughter, when I needed help. But I did not press the point – I knew what he would answer me: he had to stay with his men, he had to be where it was necessary to be...

'Katara,' my father's voice was heavy with... sorrow? weariness? regret? I could make out every one of those emotions, '… what I'm trying to tell you is that I wouldn't wish your friend the Avatar to EVER be faced with the same difficult choice I had to make! In his position, the consequence of every wrong choice would be disastrous for the world and would haunt him forever... as mine did me.'

'I know. I know perfectly well that Aang is the Avatar, ok? I – I know what his responsibilities are!'

Hadn't I been worrying enough about that already? Though my father's words certainly put a new perspective on things.

'Besides, whatever Sokka and Toph may have said or not said, Aang and I are just good friends...' I turned away from him, focusing on the ground, so he wouldn't see the lie.

'Then it's even more important I should tell you this now. There's one last thing ...'

'What?'I asked, sullenly.

'Your friend, Aang, is the youngest Avatar the world has ever known, facing one of the most difficult times the world has ever known. I greatly admire his courage and we'll do whatever it takes to help him, when he recovers, but he's not a fully-realised Avatar, and, realistically speaking, the dangers are great – '

'Aang is lying here more dead than alive...don't you think I know that?!'

Dad was silent for a while, then: 'When we scuttled our ships earlier, I was amazed at how your water-bending has improved ... you created those huge waves – like the aftermath of a storm - with a simple gesture. And Sokka told me that that's nothing compared to what you're capable of, now that you've become a Master Waterbender. I'm glad your dream came true...I had searched all the South Pole in vain looking for a waterbending master to teach you when you were very little,' he paused and shifted uncomfortably 'I don't know much about any bending, but I've heard that a great and prolonged sorrow can diminish your skills, just as much as it can diminish your spirit ...'

'What are you saying?'

'That I do not want to see you turn into what I did, when your mother died...'

'Aang isn't going to die! Isn't once enough?!' I choked out angrily.

I did not tell him that, perhaps, his words have come too late for me.

Just then, Sokka came in saying the broth was ready. Dad said nothing else and followed Sokka outside to the campfire. I checked Aang one last time and followed them.

It's a chilly night, but I sat far away from where Dad and Sokka are huddled around the campfire. I ate my supper in silence, refusing Dad's offer to sit closer to the fire. I have enough light here to write my journal, and that's all I want to do. I don't want to speak to my father - or anyone else, for that matter. Dad's words have left me with a million doubts, a million questions... and a festering resentment.

Resentment in knowing that he's right. I can't pretend I don't know. I've battled with some of these issues already, in this very journal... but the way he's put things makes it a thousand times worse...

I don't think my bending has been affected by this tragedy – but even so, I don't care: right now, all I need are my healing skills…. Probably Dad would say my attitude proves his words: saying I don't care about my bending is being completely irrational…

But it seems there's a lot of stuff I don't know about Dad: I had no idea what had really happened to Mom's village – she never spoke about it, but I guess now I know why I have no relatives on Mom's side of the family...

But there is one thing I do know and remember well... in the dark days that followed Mom's death, Dad had been so lost and broken that he was hardly recognisable ...he used to disappear for hours by himself in the snow, scaring us into thinking he wouldn't come back, either. And when he did, the hollow look in his eyes and his haggard face were frightening ...

I've seen shadows of the same look on my own face these days…. a stranger's face looking up at me with empty eyes from the reflection on the still water of the healing bowls.

I think I can understand Dad's pain during those dark days a bit better now – or through different eyes.

But my father has baldly told me to steer away from having any feelings for Aang, just when, in the past days, the incontrovertible truth of it has stared me in the face...

How can I change that? It's impossible, isn't it? And yet, if it would do any good, I'd stay away from Aang both in word and in deed, and I'd do it in a heartbeat, if I knew it would bring him back from this strange place he has disappeared into...

I've been to check on him several times already. His wound is fine and he is as before, stretched out cold and still on his litter. Momo is curled up near him as usual, for he never leaves his side at night, but it will be another sleepless night for me. A lot of the men have retired in their tents to get some rest, but many others are still awake on the first watch, just in case that Fire Nation scout-ship arrives sooner than we're expecting. I can see their dark outline on the promontory beyond our camp, looking out to sea.

And now we wait, just one big, happy family….