Author's Notes:
And with this chapter, we've officially hit 100K words! I know, I know: that's a long time to wait for a relationship to develop, but I promise we're getting there soon, and this fic is probably going to break at least 200K before it's finished, so relatively speaking, we're only at the midpoint of the story. And of course there will be a few M-rated scenes as the relationship continues to progress (though we still have a little while before Zuko and Katara reach that point). Thanks to everyone who's stayed with this fic since I started it back in June of 2014, and special thanks to everyone who's reviewed. You guys are awesome.
Chapter Forty-Four
Foggy Swamp: Two days ago.
"This is the banyan-grove tree."
Aang looked up, taking in the tree's sprawling branches, lush with vibrant green leaves, then back at the man who had led them here. He'd introduced himself as Huu, of the Foggy Swamp Tribe, and assured them that so long as they kept close to him, they wouldn't have to worry about being attacked for trespassing. "This is where Sokka and I found each other after we got separated," Aang said, following Huu as he bent a curtain of vines out of their path. Now that he knew the man was a waterbender, he could see a subtle familiarity in the way he manipulated the vines, fluid and forceful all at once. He'd have to tell Katara all about it when they found her. "This tree must be hundreds of years old."
"Older than that," Huu said, eyes crinkling at the corners. "Some say this tree has been around since long before my people came to live in the swamp."
Aang believed him.
"Of course, even when you live simply like we do, trouble has a way of finding you," Huu went on. "Fire Nation soldiers come through here sometimes, and you get the odd group of bandits or fugitives. That's why I'm here—I protect the swamp from folks who want to hurt it." He looked meaningfully at the machete Sokka still held.
"Told you it was a bad idea to hack through the vines like that," Aang said.
"Yeah, okay, you were right," Sokka said. "But how was I supposed to know there were people here? Who would want to live in a swamp? Uh, no offense," he added, looking at Huu.
"None taken." The man smiled, utterly at ease. "Sorry about the whole swamp monster act. Wasn't going to hurt you if I could help it, but a good scare can do wonders for keeping people away."
"Makes sense. No monsters, just a guy trying to protect his home. Nothing mystical about it." Sokka nodded firmly.
"Oh, the swamp is plenty mystical." Huu breathed deep as they came to a relatively flat bed of roots. They were well above the waterline now, and getting closer to the massive tree trunk that sat at the heart of the swamp. "It's sacred. I reached enlightenment right here under the banyan-grove tree." He ran one hand tenderly along a root wider than his arm, then looked to Aang. "I heard it calling to me, just like you did."
Sokka looked dubiously at the expanse of roots. "Sure you did. Seems real chatty."
Aang gave him a look, but Huu continued, Sokka's skepticism bouncing off his easygoing demeanor. "See, this whole swamp is actually just one tree spread out over miles. Branches spread and sink, take root, and spread some more. One big, living organism, just like the entire world."
"I get how the tree is one big thing," Aang said, eyebrows pulling together, "but the whole world?"
Huu brightened, as if he'd been hoping he would ask that question. "Sure it is. You think you're any different from your friend or this tree? If you listen hard enough, you can hear every living thing breathing together. You can feel everything growing. We're all living together, even if most folks don't act like it. We all have the same roots, and we are all branches of the same tree."
Aang looked out over the swamp, imagining each tree, interlinked with those around it, all connecting back to this one, the most ancient tree in the world. Could the rest of the world really be the same? he wondered, breathing deeply of the verdant air. He thought of the division between the four nations, as it had been before the war. Even in peaceful times, each nation had been distinct, with its own philosophies and ways of living. And yet . . . he'd had friends from every nation. Bumi, Kuzon, Monk Gyatso, Sokka, Katara . . . Once you got past the cultural obstacles, it was easy to find common ground with another person. Maybe we are all connected, he thought, staring out at the sprawling swamp, then to the misty horizons beyond.
"This has been interesting and all," Sokka said, "but we need to get going. We have to find Appa and Momo so we can start searching for my sister again."
The words reminded Aang of a question he'd been meaning to ask earlier. "Hold on a second, Sokka." He turned to Huu. "Back in the swamp, we each had visions. Can you tell us what they meant?"
"In the swamp, we see visions of people we've lost, people we love, folks we think are gone." A trace of sadness touched Huu's eyes. "But the swamp tells us they're not. We're still connected to them. Time is and illusion, and so is death."
"Death?" Sokka squeaked.
"Loss," Huu said. "Missing things."
"But what about my vision?" Aang asked. "It was someone I'd never met."
"You're the Avatar. You tell me."
He looked down, considering everything he'd learned about the swamp so far. "Time is an illusion," he said slowly. "So it's someone I will meet?"
Huu nodded.
"Okay, okay," Sokka said, a note of agitation in his voice. "I'm sure this is all very important information, but it doesn't change the fact that we still need to find Appa and Momo."
"I have an idea," Aang said, kneeling down to brace one hand against the roots of the great tree. He closed his eyes, imagining the tree spreading out across the whole of the swamp, a network of living things. In response, he felt a sort of knowing, an ancient and primordial awareness that stretched from this tree to the swamp and beyond. He held an image of Appa and Momo in his mind, willing the great tree to show him where they might be, and an instant later, he felt recognition ripple through the awareness. Suddenly, his own consciousness was flying above the swamp, faster than his glider could have carried him, following a ribbon of white light. As he reached the end of it, he saw Appa and Momo, ensnared in a net of rope as several long canoes towed them through the water.
As suddenly as it had come on, the vision ended. Aang stood, knowing instinctively which way to turn to follow the path he'd glimpsed. "I know where Appa and Momo are. Come on." He started running, his footsteps light as he bounded across the uneven terrain. Behind him, he heard Sokka running to keep up.
It didn't take them long to reach the water, though they were forced to slow as the foliage thickened. It took less than two minutes before Sokka called out to him. "Go. I'll catch up."
Aang whirled to face Sokka, but faltered even as he opened his mouth to argue. "Okay," he said, and they separated. Aang flung himself through the higher branches, the swamp below little more than a blur as he flew through its upper reaches. He soon found the waterway he'd glimpsed in his vision, adjusting his course to follow it until he caught sight of several canoes up ahead. The boats were loosely tethered together, flowing in tandem down the meandering river, but it was the array of netting that trailed behind them that got Aang's attention. "Appa!"
The flying bison groaned in response, lifting his head. Mud and plant matter clung to his fur, while Momo squirmed in a smaller leather sack on one of the boats.
Unbidden, Aang felt a flash of anger. Huu may have been defending his home when he'd attacked them, but these people didn't have any right to restrain Appa or Momo. He leapt from the branch he'd been standing on, spreading his arms as he fell. Then, as he neared the river's surface, he twisted, sending a blade of air through the nets that kept Appa from flying away.
The people in the canoes rose to their feet as Appa wriggled free of the ropes, then turned to Aang, arms rotating swiftly to send a wave of muddy water in his direction. Aang parted it easily, then spun and swiped his foot through the air. The resulting burst of wind overturned the canoes, and their occupants made a swift retreat as Aang landed on a bed of roots along the edge of the waterway.
"Well, would ya look at that, Tho" said a lanky man wearing nothing but a loincloth and a triangular hat made of leaves. "He's one o'them airbenders, ain't he?"
"Waterbender, too, I reckon," said Tho.
Aang glanced between them, a little perturbed by the genial tone they'd taken. "I want my flying lemur back," he said, nodding to the wriggling leather sack in the larger man's arm.
"Told ya he belonged to someone," the thinner man said as Tho loosened the bag's drawstring. Momo squirmed free and took flight, gliding over to Aang and clinging to his shoulder.
At that moment, Aang saw the vines in the corner of his eye part like a curtain as Sokka caught up, out of breath, with Huu following close behind. This was enough to dissolve whatever lingering tension remained, as the lanky man waved in greeting. "Hey, Huu, where you been?"
"You know, scared some folks, swung from vines, the usual. This here's the Avatar."
"The Avatar, huh?" the thinner man said. "Pleased to meet ya. My name's Due, and this is Tho."
"Sorry 'bout the inconvenience, folks," Huu said, looking to Aang, then Sokka. "If you like, you're welcome to stay in one of our villages for dinner. Least we can do, what with our trying to cook up your pets here."
Aang exchanged a look with Sokka. "Dinner would be nice, but . . ."
"But we have to keep moving," Sokka finished. "My sister was kidnapped a couple weeks ago, and we need to get back to finding her."
Huu laughed. "Well, that shouldn't be any problem. If you listen hard enough, you can find her just like you found your bison today."
Aang's heart leapt. "You really think that would work?"
"Don't see why not. Might take a little longer—it's a big world out there—but I think you can do it."
This is it, Aang thought, looking to Sokka. This is our chance. "We have to try. Come on."
Riding on Appa's back, it took less than five minutes to make it back to the banyan-grove tree. In hindsight, he probably could have repeated the trick he'd used to find Appa and Momo from anywhere in the swamp, or even the world, but the trunk of the banyan-grove tree acted as a sort of focus—a massive conduit for spiritual energy, the heart of a vast, living expanse many times older than almost anything else in the world. If there was any chance of him reaching out to Katara, this was the best place to try it.
He floated down from Appa's saddle the moment they landed, pausing only to pat the bison's side before walking the last few steps to the base of the tree. There he knelt, eyes closed, and reached once more for that sentience sprawling through the roots, the trees. It stirred as he came in contact with it, ancient and massive and aware of him in a way that made the back of his neck prickle. "I need to find Katara," he whispered, focusing on all his memories of her, distilling them until he held a perfect, exacting image of who she was in his mind.
For a moment, the sentience did nothing. Then, suddenly, Aang found himself soaring through the air as he had before, except this time his mind was not confined to the swamp, but pulled eastward, over fields of rice paddies, over forests that had been around for centuries but had hardly sprouted from the perspective of the swamp, over rivers and roads that wove through the countryside like capillaries.
And there she was, kneeling beside a stream. Her face was flushed with exertion, and her hair had been cut away so it hung just past her chin, but it was her. As he watched, she cupped her hands and splashed her face with the water from the river, her obvious weariness easing slightly.
Another figure entered the vision, and the relief he'd felt at seeing her alive evaporated. Zuko, he thought, watching the firebender crouch next to Katara. He looked different, too—his topknot was gone, and he'd traded his Fire Nation garb for a plain brown outfit. Aang held his breath, but rather than threatening her as he'd expected, Zuko handed her a canteen, which she proceeded to dunk in the water as she filled it. What's going on?
Once the canteen was full, Katara screwed the cap back on and handed it to Zuko, who slung it over his shoulder, where two more canteens hung. As he rose, he tucked an arm under her shoulder, helping her up, and she leaned heavily against him. She's hurt, Aang realized, his vision focusing on her ankles. She'd shifted all but a tiny fraction of her weight to one foot, the other hardly touching the ground as Zuko led her back uphill, but something about the way she moved—not as if she were merely hurt, but as if she'd been weakened somehow—made him think that a twisted ankle was the least of her injuries.
The vision ended. Aang withdrew his hand from the tree, too stunned to speak.
"Well?" Sokka asked. "Did you find her or not?"
He nodded.
"Great, so where is she?"
"To the east of here. A couple days' flight, if we go now."
Sokka must have noticed the lack of enthusiasm in his voice, because he frowned. "Something's wrong, isn't it?"
"Yeah. I think she's hurt. And there's something else." He met Sokka's eyes in time to see the look of dread on his face. "She's with Zuko."
