He's restless, thinks Azula as she watches Aang fidget with the reins.
She doesn't comment, focusing instead on drawing moisture from the surrounding clouds. Pride tugs at her chest as droplets coalesce into an orb, only to disappear just as quickly.
Azula hasn't mastered waterbending, or earthbending, or any element besides fire. The element she has come closest to mastery is, ironically, air. The element her father would hate the most. A sign of disloyalty.
Earthbending. There were rough patches, the Dai Li were better benders, but at least she could substitute her flaws in earthbending with a meager metal trick. But waterbending?
Azula stared at the dew drops in her palm before calmly closing her hand into a fist.
She would have to find some way to distract her father. To avoid being called upon for a full demonstration of her doublebending abilities.
What if he wants me to go into the Avatar State? Thinks Azula with alarm. Could thinking about mother work twice? And, even if it did, I have no control over the Avatar State. It's more a hindrance than anything. What if— Azula shakes her head. The fear fading from her system and being replaced by a measured self-assuredness.
There was no point in stressing herself out before they'd even reached their destination. Her father could be absent. The possibility remained that he wasn't directly behind the sickness of Ba Sing Se, and, if that was the case, then Azula had time.
If not...
Azula glances back at the twisted reins in his hands. The warped leather mocking her through his unerringly pleasant demeanor.
Soulmates. Mirrors. Flaws.
"I thought this beast would be faster," she drawls, drawing him away from his thoughts.
Aang's hands relax. "Zuko said the same thing."
Curse you Zuzu, thinks Azula with a suffering sigh as the others share a chuckle at her expense.
He untwists the leather. "We're here."
Appa's feet slowly sink into the squishy, waterlogged ground, and he voices displeasure at his wet feet and dirtied fur.
Aang pats his head sympathetically while scanning the surroundings for an ambush.
There are too many hiding places. The gnarled roots distorting sight. The heavy waters distorting sound.
Aang boldly calls out against the cacophony of insects and amphibians. ""Hello? Did someone call for the Avatar?"
"I didn't expect you to show," rasps a woman's voice.
Aang looks up and spots a solitary figure moving amongst the mangroves.
Human or Spirit? wonders Aang. He hears the others shift and raises a hand.
"I'm here," he says with far more confidence than he feels. "Do you have a cure?"
A woman, scarcely more than a decade older than the group, drops down in front of him and says, with a smile, "I do."
Southern Water Tribe? Guesses Azula, taking in the woman's attire. No, the other two didn't recognize her and she's not wearing a water pouch. Northern. Healer.
She relaxes, minutely, and disembarks with the others as Aang floats down ahead and begins to prattle to the woman. His whole demeanor lighting up, and at what? The mere possibility of helping others?
Azula rolls her eyes. Guru Goody-Goody indeed, and absentmindedly scratches the back of her wrist. The action garnering unwanted attention.
"The Avatar's Soulmate!" exclaims the woman with a hungry gleam in her eyes. "My, aren't I lucky?"
Azula bristles at being referred to in such a traitorous manner but before she can kindly correct the woman, Aang steps in between them.
"It's complicated," says Aang, raising his hands in an appeasing gesture and dearly hoping that Azula wasn't feeling like taking the opportunity to shoot lightning at his turned back.
It wouldn't be a challenge.
Katara joins him in changing the subject. Holding out a hand, she introduces herself to the woman. "Hi, my name is Katara. This is—"
The woman clasps her hand in the traditional Water Tribe manner before cutting her off with a warning, "Names hold power. Be careful giving them out when malevolent Spirits could be lurking about."
Aang wants to ask more, but he considers the circumstances. The morale.
One at a time.
They'll focus on healing the people of Ba Sing Se first, before they perish or become a source of power for a hungry Spirit. He can ask about other malevolent Spirits later, after the group has rested.
He has noticed the tension in Katara's shoulders. The weariness wrapped around her like a blanket.
Katara nods to the woman in understanding, and she smiles in response, breaking the brevity of the moment, and says, "You may call me Lotus, as the cure requires fallen lotus seeds and I need your assistance in gathering them."
Blah, blah, blah. Menial labor, thinks Azula with a frown, not looking forward to trudging through muddy waters. She lifts her feet with a squelch and contemplates staying on the Beast where it is dry.
"I doubt this chore requires all of us," begins Azula, crossing her arms.
Beifong cuts her off. "Everyone has to pull their weight with chores," she recites, seemingly unbothered by the layers of mud and decaying matter slopping against her bare feet.
Azula scowls at Beifong's back and reluctantly follows. Stomping through the watery mud.
