A/N: This chapter fought me hard, you guys. Or more like perfectionism likes to put my creativity in a chokehold sometimes along with 2020 just generally being the bitch she is. I was seriously starting to feel like I would never get this chapter finished, but here we are. I DID IT. Hopefully you'll find it worth the wait.


Sokka had a bad feeling. He got them, now and then, the way others got migraines or déjà vu. Sometimes it was dull, abstract, a sense of wrongness that crept in like night, slow but inevitable. Other times it was sudden and sharp, like a pain in his side. Sokka didn't know where the feelings came from, but he had learned to listen when they did.

"I still think we should just demand a trade, like we talked about in the first place. We have leverage," he said, forcing a lightness he didn't feel and gesturing to Matsu. "It poses the lowest risk of anyone getting hurt."

Toph's head tilted his direction. "I know you're normally the big idea guy, Snoozles, and I respect that, but you gotta admit, demanding a trade is just as risky. I mean, three for one? That's hardly leverage."

"Three petty prisoners for one of the resistance's torchbearers?" he countered, raising a brow. "Seems a pretty fair deal to me."

"Thank you." The smug expression on Matsu's face crumpled as Sokka delivered a sharp elbow to his ribs.

"Shut up."

"Alright," Toph granted, "so they might agree. But what's our plan if they don't? Then we've already blown our cover and might as well say goodbye to Emiko, Nori, and Azek. But if Matsu leads us in and says he's training us under him, they're not likely to question his authority. We can move around, find out where the prisoners are kept, and Matsu can help ensure the path is clear when we're set to bolt."

"You're seriously trusting Matsu not to turn on us?"

"Hey, guys, that hurts a little," he responded flippantly. "And honestly, I couldn't care less about that threesome of yours. You can take them and we can part peacefully, you have my word on that. Alright? One last favor for my almost-brother-in-law before I lead this rebellion against him. Making sure Azula comes nowhere near that throne before Ozai does."

There were so many things wrong with all of that, Sokka didn't know where to begin responding. So, he settled on the most pertinent.

"That's another thing. What if Azula happens to be there? She'll recognize us and our whole cover'll be blown to smithereens anyway, literally."

Matsu shook his head decisively. "Azula's been more focused on territory wars, gaining ground and power, expanding the insurgents' foothold in toward the capital. With those mutants, I bet she's making pretty good progress too, anyone who refuses to stand down is vaporized. She wouldn't have reason to be poking around here."

A moment of tense silence fell between them. Sokka glanced at Toph, her expression unreadable.

"If she's making such good progress, what's to stop her from staging a coup before Ozai returns and seizing power?" he asked. "If you really intend to stop her, you'd have to use some of your weight in the resistance to turn a following against her, and are you really confident in those odds?"

"You have no idea how many of the rebels have begun to see Azula for the loose cannon she's become. Some of their allegiance is hanging by a thread, I don't think it would take much to undercut her authority and for a number of her supporters to rally behind me – if given the right incentive."

The realization slowly tightened the knot in his stomach.

"And… by incentive, you mean Ozai," Sokka said. "You really think they'd mutiny to hold out for him?"

Worry gnawed at his insides. If and when Ozai returned… would Katara be with him? Or when he was through with whatever he needed her for, would that monster just discard her like a dirty rag? Would Sokka ever see his sister again? He swallowed past the ache in his throat. Katara may have gone to Ozai willingly and done some unforgivable things, but they were still family and he loved her, and hoped she was okay. His hands balled to clammy fists. If the loser lord had made any sleazy moves on–

"I think they would. Ozai was calculating and powerful, a strong and imposing leader who oversaw the advancement of the Fire Nation into the strongest, most industrialized country in the world. They feared and revered him equally. He's familiar, already ruled once. And now, they see the little frays in Azula's seams and are growing anxious."

Toph shook her head with a scoff. "I'm not sure which would be worse. Ozai or his slightly more volatile, unhinged spawn. And what if he doesn't want to be the lowly Fire Lord? What if he pulls that Phoenix King crap again and leaves the throne to Azula anyway? Zuko can't possibly be worse in your book than her."

"Phoenix King that can't bend fire?" Sokka snickered and gave a mocking click of his tongue. "How embarrassing—"

"Look, I'm not discussing any more of this with you," Matsu cut in, gesturing with his head. "Just over that hill and we're there, so you need to finalize your game plan. I know these guys in and out and I agree with the earthbender. If you want your prisoners, this is how we should do it."

"Hey, not so fast, pretty boy. That's all great, but how can we know you're not going to turn on us?" Toph prodded, crossing her arms.

"Will you trust me if I give you my scout's honor?" She blinked hard, deadpan, as Sokka raised a contemptuous brow. Matsu rolled his eyes. "I guess you'll just have to take my word for it. And I doubt I have to say this, but you're gonna have to take these manacles off me if you want to avoid suspicion."

Sokka glanced to Toph as Matsu held his arms out. She gave a single, curt nod.

"Fine," Sokka conceded reluctantly and the manacles shattered with a flick of Toph's wrist.

"But try anything or even think about betraying us," she added, shoving a finger into his chest, "and I'll bury you so far in the ground that the heat from the earth's core will incinerate your scheming ass."

Matsu held up his hands. "Hey, chill, alright? Doesn't a man's word mean anything anymore?"

She scoffed a single laugh. "When you're engaged to schizo princess for two years and outwardly leading a rebellion against the current Fire Lord – the only decent one in hundreds of years I might add – you lose a little credibility."

Matsu shrugged. "All a matter of perspective."

The climb up the side of the hill was steep, full of loose rocks and holes hiding beneath the long grass. Sokka rolled his ankle more than once. They were nearing the top, where it hollowed into a shallow crater, when a voice cut through the air above them.

"Stop right there! Identify yourselves!"

Matsu only strutted up to the top of the hill in his easy way. "Come on, boys, forget me so soon?"

Blinking rapidly, the men straightened at once, hand into fist. "Cleaver. I thought… Forgive us sir, it's been—"

"At ease, gentlemen," he replied as they finished the climb, coming to stand before them.

"What are you– I thought you were imprisoned by the Fire Lord?"

"I was. Managed to escape."

They exchanged a fleeting glance, uncertainty stinging clear. "How?"

Matsu studied them, the coiled aspect to their stance, sharpening his tone like a blade. "My crafty wiles, is this an interrogation?"

"No sir, uhh, it's just that Princess Azula…" Their attention shifted to Sokka and Toph on either side of him and they nodded. "Who are they?"

"They're with me. I've been making my rounds among the camps, these two have proven themselves promising leaders, they're shadowing me. They'll be staying with us for a while so get a couple tents ready—" Matsu stopped abruptly and turned to them with a wry air of curiosity. "You know, I'm having trouble reading the vibe between you two. Is it one tent, or two?"

In the uncomfortable beat of silence, the air seemed to charge with static, the hairs on Sokka's skin tingling. He cleared his throat.

"Uh, two."

Matsu's brow quirked, his smirk widening. "Wait, so… You're really not together? Damn, I would've lost money on that bet, I mean, the chemistry—"

"You can shut up now," Toph cut in like a whiplash.

Recognition seemed to dawn on his face and he sucked his teeth, sizing them up awkwardly. "Oh. Gotcha. Apologies."

The guards were looking increasingly uneasy. The pair of them exchanged another look, shifting on their feet and Matsu turned back to them with his signature macho grit.

"I said at ease."

He might have said I'll put a knife to your throat for as quickly as they flinched, spines snapping straight before forcibly easing. A muscle twitched in the first guard's temple.

"Right. Sorry, sir. Welcome back."

:.: :.: :.: :.:

The camp was alive with activity, all manner of people and carts moving about. Matsu had stolen away to temper the wave of excitement – and a tinge of something else, too, Sokka thought… apprehension? – spreading upon his return, leaving them to follow the two guards through camp alone. He had promised to catch them again in a jiffy. Sokka's stomach pinched.

But thankfully, the two bouncers didn't say a word to them, only occasionally glanced over their shoulder to be sure they were following until they stopped before an array of surprisingly spacious, framed tents, the tanned hide doors flapping in a breeze.

"Here you are," the first muttered with a bland wave of his hand. "Home sweet home."

The other guard slid him a glance before they marched off the way they'd come, leaving them to stand alone before the two vacant tents.

Toph rubbed the back of her neck and Sokka cleared his throat.

"Um. Which one do you want to take?"

"Hmm, let's see. I'll take the big, fancy one."

"They're both the—" Same. He cut off with an exasperated huff of a laugh. "Why do you feel the need to do that?"

Smirking, she replied, "You make it too easy. It's not my fault you can't remember that I'm blind."

"Well, in my defense, your blindness is hardly a footnote considering your crazy earthbending sight and how awesome you are. It's easy to forget."

In a rare moment, she seemed caught off guard. Toph blushed and Sokka's stomach rolled. The camp murmured around them. With neither sure of what to do or say, she turned away and was about to slip into her tent when he caught her hand.

"Toph."

The way he said her name made her head turn. His voice had dropped low, and it came out like a caress. His face felt suddenly hot. But he didn't let go of her hand, swiftly growing warm and sweaty in his.

"I just… What we're here to do is dangerous. And, there's a chance we won't make it back out. So…" He took a breath to steady his drumming heart. "I don't want to wait any more to say what I've known in my heart for a while. I'm sorry I made you wait so long. I've been blind—" His body froze and he grimaced. "Oh, gods, sorry, that's not—. What I meant to say was, everything I've wanted has been right beside me all this time, and maybe I just… didn't know I knew it, or… maybe part of me knew it, but at the same time was scared to ruin what we already—"

"Smooth," she crooned dryly, and Sokka breathed a laugh, cringing a little inside. "That coming out okay?" But he could see the heat on her cheeks, feel the rapid pulse fluttering at her wrist. He brushed his thumb over it and her breathing hitched.

"I'm trying here, okay? You're supposed to think my awkward bumbling is cute."

"It is cute, I admit. But I also reserve the right as your friend to tell you that you suck at this."

Shrugging, he teased, "I can stop if you want."

"No, no," she responded, playing casual. "Carry on."

"What I'm trying very badly to say is that sometimes you might have violent ways of showing affection, and you have that weird laugh when you're drunk." Toph snorted. "And sometimes you smell like wet dog—"

"Rude!"

"But…" Pulling her a step closer, their playfulness melted swiftly into that deep affection they'd nurtured over the years and the newly budding passion. "I love you, Toph. First and always as a friend, and now, as something more. If you'll have me."

She smiled, nudging his shoulder with her fist. "Duh, meat head."

A laugh caught on a breath in his throat and he glanced down at his feet. His soul was alight, his heart threatening to burst right out of his chest as he looked back up and stroked a fingertip along her temple, smoothing a flyaway hair back in place.

Toph bit into her lip. "…This is the part where you kiss me."

His tone dipped lower as he leaned closer, close enough to feel a feathery wisp of her breath. "Right. But, you see, the problem is…" One of his hands cupped her face. "…if I kissed you, I don't know if I'd be able to stop."

His thumb brushed over her cheekbone.

"Then don't stop." An impish smirk turned up her cheeks, the words a rush of air on her lips.

Sokka's hand slid to the nape of her neck as his other pulled her closer by the hip. Toph parted her lips, her eyes fluttering closed, and he let his eyes sweep over her face once, wanting to commit everything about this moment to memory.

And finally, he kissed her. Softly at first. And when her tongue found his, the kiss intensified. She lifted herself up on tiptoes, wrapping her arms around his neck, and he could only focus on how soft she felt against his mouth, how addictively she invaded all his senses. Time seemed to stop right there as they molded to each other, as sensation rippled like a current throughout his body. As if no one else existed—

"Hey, guys, sorry about– Whoa."

The kiss broke as they turned, red-faced and startled, the world and their senses crashing back around them. Matsu stood there gaping, brows knit.

"You just told me you weren't together!"

"Uh…" Sokka smiled sheepishly, rubbed the back of his neck. "That was ten minutes ago?"

He blinked twice, staring. "Okay…. So, just the one tent after all? I was going to say I could show you around the base now, see what we can turn up. But, if you're busy I can come back later." The suggestive arch of a brow.

Sokka felt impossibly hot and the pink on Toph's face flared. "No, uhh," he stammered, clearing his throat to regain composure. He thought he heard Toph suppress a snicker. "Let's go."

As they followed behind Matsu, he stole a glance at her, found her smiling that contagious smile, and he couldn't help slipping his hand into hers, their fingers entwined.

They walked past the makeshift benches and sparring rings, a dead campfire with scattered pots and kettles on the ground while Matsu bumped fists and exchanged cocky remarks with some of the men in passing. At the far end of the campsite stood a woman in rebel armor, feet wide and arms crossed. It struck Sokka as odd to see her there alone, outside the busyness of the rest of the camp. But as they drew closer, he could just make out a place in the earth where the ground gave way to a cavity, a grate of iron bars over top. And Sokka realized what he was looking at.

"You're throwing prisoners in a pit?"

"It's not a resort, Sokka. If they don't like it, maybe they shouldn't have gotten caught."

He scowled. "You're an asshole, you know that?"

"I'm the asshole who's going to help you liberate your idiot scouts, so watch your mouth."

The stern-faced woman standing guard shifted on her feet. When she took notice of Matsu, the line between her brows disappeared and she perked up.

"Hey, boss. It's good to see you back." Her face seemed to flush slightly and she cleared her throat, squared her shoulders. "Is there something you need? Or…?"

"These two are shadowing me, I'm giving them the grand tour. Showing them where we keep the hostages, should they ever need to know. Do you mind?"

With a small smile and a nod, the woman slid the heavy grate aside with her foot and they peered down. It was so dark and deep, Sokka had to squint to differentiate the five figures huddling together in the dark, three on one side and two on another. They flinched in unison at the sudden blockage of light and looked up.

The first three faces were unfamiliar, but the other two sat bolt upright, blinking.

Emiko sucked a breath and Azek's good eye widened as they glanced between Toph and Sokka, drawing gazes from the other captives. Sokka returned what he hoped was a warning look, and the two quickly resumed a cowering stance, dropping their eyes.

"This is our holding chamber," Matsu said, gesturing with a theatrical flare. "As you can see, it's not the grandest of affairs, but it does the job."

Azek's eyes lifted covertly again to meet Sokka's. One eye was blackish purple and swollen shut, crusted with blood that had trickled down from a wound in his head. But more disturbing was Emiko. The usual spark in her eyes had all but diminished. She looked weak and frail, her eyes sunken in and her milky skin covered in clouds of purple dots and red-brown welts. They had been badly beaten, and something worse he suspected, but the two of them were alive at least–

Wait.

"Alright, moving on with the tour," Matsu said, ushering them back away from the hole in the ground. He winked thanks to the woman and received a blush in return as she replaced the bars.

Clenching his jaw, Sokka waited until they were a safe distance out of earshot and stopped short, turning on him with a clamping grip on his arm.

"Whoa, what gives, man? Weren't those the—?"

"There were three of them," he hissed. "Where's the third? Nori."

"How should I know?" he bit back, wrenching his arm away. "I just got here same as you. Maybe she escaped."

"Not likely," cut in Toph. "She never made it back. She has to be here."

Matsu looked away and sucked in his lip. "She's a bender, right? If she's not with the others… they might have taken her to the laboratory."

Toph blinked her eyes wider and Sokka's stomach dropped.

"Experimenting on her?"

"No, moron, playing a friendly came of cards."

He ignored the prick's facetious remark and paced away, running a hand over his wolftail. "This isn't good. We need to get in there."

Matsu shook his head. "Not now, it'll draw suspicion. We'll have to wait a few hours until the lull between the evening rounds, we can go in then and scope it out. They already think I'm training you, they won't question my authority."

"Yeah, about that," Toph said. "Those guys earlier seemed a little on edge. One of them mentioned Azula. Something feels off, you sure they won't give us trouble?"

"They shouldn't, if they know what's good for them." Sokka didn't like those odds. Matsu was too cocky, too sure of himself, and the bravado didn't help to quiet down his nerves. "Buck up, buttercup. This should all go fairly quick and smooth if we do it right, and then you'll be on your way tonight with no one the wiser."

:.: :.: :.: :.:

It could hardly be missed that the lady guard had a crush. And they would use it to their advantage. As the last bit of sun was flaring in the western horizon, the three of them gathered behind a long tent, firming up Sokka's plan. Matsu would flirt with her, keep her occupied while Toph sneaked up behind her and entered the pit. Dusk would provide the advantage of shadow and assure the camp would be quieter and there was a caravan scheduled to depart tonight. If they could make it in time to secretly hop a ride and ditch once they were far enough away–

"These uniforms are bulky," she groused. "One would be bad enough, but three—"

"It's not for long," Sokka reminded her, "just until you get down into the pit. You take two off, give them to Azek and Emiko—"

"What about the other three prisoners? They could rat us out."

"They'll probably want to come with and we have no choice. Just make sure they wait a while before following," Matsu said. "I can't swipe enough uniforms without drawing attention. If they get caught, hopefully by that time you'll be gone."

"So, you burrow a path underground from the pit to meet Matsu and I back at the laboratory. If all goes well, Nori will be with us and we'll split when the caravan leaves. If not…"

"You'll have to split either way tonight. I'm really sticking my neck out for you guys, and there's a chance someone could grow suspicious. If she's not there, you cut your losses and run. I can't have anyone sniffing around, we clear?"

Sokka hesitated, glancing at Toph, her mouth pulling hard to one side. She crossed her arms.

"This better not be a trap or I'll earthbend you into the next decade."

With a roll of his eyes he started off, snarking, "Okay, Mom." He paused at the end of the tent to look back over his shoulder. "Places, everyone. It's show time."

Toph padded off and Sokka stood an inconspicuous distance away, watching Matsu swagger up to the guard and clear his throat. She turned and predictably perked up like a flower in the sun, reciprocating his charming smile quickly. His voice carried just enough for Sokka to make out most of the words.

"Hey, Kima… yeah… you too… didn't have a chance to talk earlier… hoping, you know, if you want to… might hang out tomorrow night…"

Smooth. Sokka rolled his eyes skyward. Cool guy playing the awkward card, and now of course the girl was putty in his hand.

As he talked, Matsu casually kept inching back and, as they'd hoped, Kima followed step for step, drawn like a moth to the flame. Sokka glanced to where Toph was standing, her expression a picture of concentration, keeping close tabs on the guard. He wondered if it was difficult for her, how far her sense of "sight" might reach. But right on cue, she started forward at a brisk casual pace, reaching the grate and discreetly sliding it open with her foot, just far enough to slip down into the pit like a phantom and slide it back.

Matsu's eyes flicked to Sokka for half a breath as he began to wind up the conversation. And as an unsuspecting Kima resumed her station before the pit and Matsu started off, Sokka nonchalantly took up pace at a distance behind him.

When they were out of her sight, he stopped to let Sokka catch up and started walking again, speaking in a quiet voice.

"Alright, so if we're gonna do this right, there's something we need to get clear. You might see some things in the laboratory that disturb you. You need to keep your cool or it'll spell trouble for us both."

"I can do that."

"And if anyone asks, I'll tell them you have experience refining ore, or whatever, and want to help speed along the process."

Sokka nodded. He brought them to a rough set of stairs leading down into the belly of the crater. The passage at first was narrow and dark with shadow, but at the bottom it widened into a larger corridor with torches mounted sparsely on the walls. Immediately, Sokka was overpowered by a bitter, acrid smell that singed his throat and made him cough.

"That's the Taint," Matsu said as Sokka hacked away. Crates of the green cagrium ore glinted in the torchlight in front of a sealed off nook. "Or, rather, the refining process. The technicians wear masks while working in the chamber, but farther back it's not as bad."

Sokka could only nod, his eyes watering as he swallowed down another cough clawing up his throat. As they ventured deeper, his breath came easier, the acrid scent finally thinning, but the air was growing thick instead with the mineral tang of earth, and then, the unmistakable copper scent of blood and sour bile. The quiet seemed to swallow them whole, the activity up above going from muffled to dead in a matter of feet. Water plinked slowly from somewhere to his left. And a distant groan shattered the silence, echoing shallow off the cool stone. His heart began climbing into his throat.

"We'll start at this end, peek into each room. Let me know if you see her."

In the dim, flickering light, they looked into the first through the doorless entry. On a table erected of stone lied a young woman, strapped in place with leather belts. Her vacant, glassy eyes stared unblinking at the ceiling. Deep stains still marred the floor where something dark had spilled and spattered and been wiped up.

On a small wooden table next to her were a phial and two syringes filled with an iridescent green liquid, a few drops beaded where they had oozed out. Taint.

"That her?" Matsu whispered.

Sokka might have thought she was dead if not for the shallow movement of her chest. But he shook his head.

"No."

They went on. Rabid, sawing breaths reached them well before they came to the next room. Inside, a man was thrashing against his restraints, fighting to sit up on the table. His neck and muscles were corded, lips pulled back over clenched teeth in animalistic rage. There was something terrifying in his fever-eyed furor, like his mind and body were no longer his. Nostrils flared as he snorted and fumed, pink scum frothing at the sides of his mouth.

"What are you doing to these people?" Sokka didn't so much speak the words as exhale them, his voice quivering. Matsu just pressed his lips together.

"Not her, let's keep moving."

Bundling the fear into his chest, he quieted his rapid breathing as they made their way further down the corridor, trying to cement every detail into his memory. Right now, the mission was simply to find Nori and get all of them out. But anything they could give Zuko about the experiments would be valuable information, provide an advantage that might help take them down.

As they approached the next room, hushed conversation drifted just out of reach and two men rounded the entryway, nearly colliding with them, their uniforms streaked with rusty stains. Sokka flinched and held back a gasp, but their eyes landed on him for a moment too long.

"Don't let us get in your way, just showing the new recruit around," Matsu said coolly. "He's gonna be working with the ore so you may see him around."

The men exchanged a sidelong glance but looked back to Matsu with a nod, passing by silently. He looked over his shoulder before giving Sokka a signal to proceed. Here, the smell of blood and bile was so heady it was almost poison. Dread knotted his throat as Sokka hesitantly peeked into the room.

A girl hung suspended against the wall, her feet inches off the ground. Blood had dried in streams down her temples and neck, still oozing down a crusted river on her arm and dripping slowly into a congealing pool on the floor. Her skin had ruptured around several deep purple blooms over her body and face, leaving her almost unrecognizable. But Sokka knew.

"It's her," he choked.

Matsu muttered a curse.

The girl's skin had taken on the pallor of a corpse, ghostly in the dim light. And like a ghost, she had slipped out of consciousness, her head slumped and body limp, with death not far away.

"How are we going to get her out of here?" hissed Sokka, anger curdling in his veins.

A glance over his shoulder and Matsu replied, "The coast is clear right now, I can stand guard while you unbelt her from the wall."

"And then what?! You think they won't notice us hauling a half-dead girl around?"

"The passage we're taking out the back is seldom used, that's where Toph will be waiting. If we act quickly, we should be able to slip by unnoticed. It'll be nearly dark, you can climb down the hill and be gone before anyone sees."

Sokka expelled a breath, feeling the acid churning in his stomach.

"What are you waiting for, someone to kiss you good luck? The coast is clear now, idiot, but it won't be for long. Move."

That acid lurched as he sprang into action and darted quietly into the room. There was so much blood, the air was thick with its coppery stench and as he crouched before her suspended feet, his fingers fumbling with the first belt at her ankle, Sokka wondered how she was still alive.

The restraining straps were sticky and he grimaced, the first belt coming free as he moved to the second, releasing both feet, and then standing to work on the belt at her wrists.

A weak, indistinct groan and his eyes shot up to see her head loll slightly, her closed eyelids clenching then fluttering.

"Nori," he whispered. "It's Sokka. If you can hear me, I'm going to get you out. Just hang on, please."

Another groan as her first wrist and then her second fell loose. And as he unclasped the final belt at her waist, the girl dropped heavily into his arms. He staggered back under her dead weight, bumping into a table with a clatter as two phials, one empty and one corked and full of green, toppled over. An empty syringe reeled toward the edge. His hand shot out to catch the corked phial before it fell but the other hit the floor in a tinkling shatter, the syringe after.

Matsu spat a curse and panic shot through him. Sokka shoved the phial into his pocket before hauling Nori up onto limp feet, slinging her arm around his shoulders.

"Come on, you have to try to stand, I can't carry you out of here."

The response was barely a breath on her lips. "…Can't."

"You have to."

It was hard to tell if she was really hearing him.

"Come on, Nori. Emiko is out there waiting for you right now. She's counting on seeing you again, you don't want to let her down."

A whimper, but her head lolled again.

"Sokka," Matsu hissed through the doorway, "someone's coming, we need to go."

"I'll help you," he told her," just try to put one foot in front of the other."

As he dragged her forward, her feet shuffled feebly alongside his, the only sign that she had understood at least some of his words. Voice murmured around a bend in the corridor, growing closer, and Sokka followed Matsu down a narrower passage and around a turn, out of sight.

The path here was even darker, only a solitary torch at sparse intervals to light their way. Sweat beaded on his temples from the sustained effort of keeping Nori upright. His elbow scraped against the rough rock wall and their boots scuffled over loose pebbles. It felt like an eternity before natural dusk light began to thin the darkness and wisps of fresh air washed the staleness from around them. The passage widened. In an alcove approaching the exit, something drew his eye, a bulk of shapes that didn't belong.

It only took a second to realize they were fresh bodies heaped like broken dolls, a few mutilated beyond recognition – skin split and ruptured or pustules crusted over. Awaiting transport to their mass grave. Matsu must have heard the strangled sound in his throat but he didn't turn or speak, and simply kept walking. Sokka set his teeth against the nausea and focused on the exit. Toph and the others would be waiting and freedom was only steps away.

The dusk air washed over his sweat-damp skin and Sokka gulped it down gratefully, shifting to hike Nori's limp arm farther up around his shoulders. But she seemed to be coming back to consciousness, agony twisting her face as she groaned.

"Nori!" Emiko ran up to her, expression a mix of elation and horror. Sokka released the girl into her arms and she cupped her face, running her hand over the dried streams of blood. "Oh my gods, Nori."

The girl's glassy eyes fluttered open, darting listlessly over Emiko. Her brows knit and suddenly she started to writhe and panic in her hold, muttering a string of terrified, incoherent words. The smile slid off Emiko's face.

"Keep her quiet!" Matsu warned.

"Nori, please… It's me. It's Emi."

"She might be in shock," said Azek, a hand on Emiko's shoulder. "I'm sure she—"

"How touching."

A voice cut in, familiar in its cool, silken malice, sending a shot of adrenaline right to Sokka's heart. They spun around in a series of gasps, those sharp amber eyes piercing his, edged with an even sharper smile. Azula stood there coolly, hands on hips and head cocked as though she found them so pathetic it was amusing. Two men flanked her on either side – the same two they had run into in the laboratory, their tunics streaked with dried blood. Nori's blood. Sokka's insides simultaneously boiled and froze over. He knew they had looked at him strangely, and he had been right. They'd gone off to find Azula.

She clicked her tongue as she studied them. "Matsu. I thought I'd heard rumors about your return. And I see you've brought along some friends as well. Rebels from another camp, or so I hear. The more, the merrier I usually say." Pausing with a play of intrigue, she went on, "But, what a shock to see that two of my brother's councilmen have turned traitor and jointed the revolt." The two men raised brows as they shared a look. "Unless, of course… that's not why you're here at all." Her gaze fell on Nori with disdain and she scoffed. "Your friend has seen better days, I'd say."

"Azula." Matsu's voice was hard and tense. "They don't matter, just let them go. There are bigger fish to fry."

"Is that any way to speak of our guests? They matter a great deal. I am going to have to come up with a special way to deal with each one of you."

The way her gaze carved a path over Sokka's body knotted his throat as she glided slowly around the lot of them, her hips swaying just so as she sized them up. Azula kept her face neutral, but she was too smug. Her lips twisted into a smirk, something wicked haunting her amber eyes as she came around and stopped before him. With a glance over her shoulder, she gave a nod and the two men came forward.

"A shame we never got properly acquainted before, you and I. Seeing as how you're here now, I've a mind to amend that. What do you say?" Stepping into him, she traced a single, sharp fingernail down his bicep and it stiffened on reflex. Her face was dangerously close to his. "Surrender without a fight, and I'll even see that you enjoy it."

Several things happened then at once. The first man seized Emiko, who shrieked as she was torn from Nori, the earthbender sagging to her knees. Fire flared from Emiko's palm but she was too weak, her arms wrenched behind her and clasped with earth manacles as a second man seized hold of Azek. Sokka's hand darted for his boomerang and Toph took a fuming stomp toward Azula, a wedge of earth tearing up from the ground.

"Hands off, bitch."

But a sickening crunching sound ground the moment to a halt. The man clutching Emiko let out a terrible, ghastly wheeze that might have been a scream, his chest caving in, the bones in his arms and legs crushing until the limbs were bendy and blood was quickly rising to his skin. He bent backward until his spine snapped, sending him to the ground in a misshapen heap. Their eyes shot to Nori. She was on hands and knees. Clenched jaw quivering as she held out an arm, fingers clawed like talons as his comrade began to scream.

Somehow, the earthbender was crushing their bones. Sokka's heart and mind were racing, trying to fathom it when he realized. Minerals, in both earth and bones… The taint they had tortured her with had magnified her powers. To their own demise.

Azula's eyes widened and in that suspended moment, a fraction of a second drawn out to infinity, Nori's gaze found Emiko's, then Sokka's. In a feeble voice, she grated out, "Run."

The crater erupted into mayhem. The earth started to shake. Shouts and cries went up, fire blasted, metal sang. They ran, dodging and countering attacks. Azula was shouting orders behind them, calling for Matsu's end. The traitor was as good as one of them now. As good as dead.

The man was a tempest with his swords and Sokka tore a gash into the head of a rebel with the blade of his boomerang before sending it flying, taking down another three. Azek was doing his best to drag Emiko along behind them, his blade drawn, but the firebender was hysterical.

"Nori, Nori!" she screamed. "No, we can't leave her, I won't—!"

"We have to or we'll die!"

"No! I can't!"

"Emiko!" shouted Azek, shaking her. "She wouldn't want you to die too. Not when she gave herself so you could live."

The fight seemed to go out of her like a doused flame and she sagged against him as they tore toward the edge of the hill's crater.

Another quake, this time strong enough to knock them off their feet, and Sokka realized it was sinking. "She's taking it down! Go, go, go!"

They reached the edge and careened down the side, hitting the ground hard and stumbling. The earth was cleaving apart in every direction and they scrambled to their feet again, racing against the crumbling ground at their heels. At last, there came an earth-shattering rumble from behind them and they skidded to a stop, turning. The crater and all within it had been obliterated, buried, leaving behind only a cloud of dust and a massive scar in the earth

Winded, they stood there paralyzed in the deafening silence that followed. It was broken by a scream, so raw and full of agony it was almost inhuman, sending Sokka's heart plummeting into his belly. Emiko fell to her knees. Her chest heaved uncontrollably with sobs and she buried her face in her hands. Matsu sighed and looked at the ground, Sokka shaking his head with tear-stung eyes as Toph rubbed her brows. Azek knelt down beside her. He held the girl as she wailed and whispered all the bits of broken comfort he could find.


An early morning breeze tickled a strand of hair along his face, an autumnal chill creeping into the air of northeastern Arclais. Ozai stirred and stretched with a soft groan, pale virescent light filtering through his lashes. Muscles he hadn't used in too long were stiff, sore from the scrimmages of the day before, and as he sat up, the ridges in his bare stomach tightened uncomfortably.

Another breeze rustled the treetops, carrying the scent of fresh dew and moss, decomposing leaves. The heady pull of his dreams still beckoned him back and he rested his elbows on his knees and rubbed his brows, eyes still half closed, when a sudden shriek pierced the quiet.

Ozai jolted, eyes snapping open as Katara sprang out of her sleeping bag flailing and squealing, hysterically pawing down her sleep-wrinkled chemise. As she came to a stop, heaving and bristly, she seemed to come back to herself and turned to him, embarrassed, fists clutching the creamy silk. His temples throbbed as he stared back with an aggravated lift of a brow.

"There was a spider…"

With a heavy sigh, the tension rushed out and he shook his head crossly, started to look away. But as she stood there looking at him, one strap of that skimpy dress hanging down indecently over her arm, the somnolent fog dissipated completely. Ozai had momentarily forgotten about the clothes they had hung to dry overnight. The morning was cool, the skin of his chest and arms prickling, and as she smoothed out the thin satiny garment, he was made painfully aware of the tightened peaks of her nipples.

The lust blindsided him, an inferno blazing swift and sudden through the pit of his stomach. A flick of her gaze down his chest, then at her own, and Katara blushed furiously and folded her arms across her breasts. In the exhaustion and darkness, it had been easy enough to repress, but now in the daylight it was impossible to ignore. They were wearing next to nothing.

Ozai gave silent thanks as she turned and stole quietly over to the saddlebags, finding a sudden and intense interest in busying herself with Fern's feed. He took a moment to compose himself, pinching the bridge of his nose with a long, tense exhale. When it was safe, he climbed to his feet and treaded over to where their clothes were draped, running the dark grey fabric of his doublet through his fingers. Dry.

In the corner of his eye he could see her stooped next to the saddlebags, scarcely moving. He tried to keep from looking over his shoulder but against his will his eyes returned again. The deep shade of red on her cheeks told him she sensed it, her head turning toward him in the suggestion of a glance but not quite meeting.

Something inside him snapped loose. Like a drowning man breaking the surface of water after too long being denied breath, clean air pouring into his aching, burning lungs.

He wasn't going to lie to himself – at least not in this moment.

He wanted her.

Katara was as much fire as she was ice, a storm that could destroy him in the most beautiful way. A storm he was not going to outrun. She was his drug – one kiss, and the intoxication had been instant. The craving had haunted him since that inexorable night under the stars. And despite all his warnings against it, Katara wanted him still, that scandalous, seductive passion every time their eyes met.

Ozai had kept the emotional detached from the physical before. He could do it again. Whatever fallout might ensue would be on her own head, he assured himself; it would not be his to bear. Not when he had made it clear where he stands. When this was over, their journey would diverge to different ends, surely she knew that. This wouldn't last. Nothing ever did, so where was the harm? Why not take their pleasure while they could? Tomorrow was not promised, but right now they were here, together, in this moment…

Her lithe figure unfurled as she stood slowly, skimming a bashful hand up her arm, and finally turned.

This time Ozai didn't quail or force himself to look away. He let his gaze trail from her eyes to her waist, to the swell of her breasts rising over the top of her bodice with every shallow, rapid breath. And Katara stared back, flushed with the tumultuous urge of emotions they had been fighting for too long.

Any other moment he would have put his back to her and stalked away. But this moment her gaze was a spark falling on dry tinder, sending the last of his resolve crumbling to ash and leaving only an engulfing weakness in its ruin.

The air crackled like the moment before lightning.

And Ozai stalked toward her.

Katara's chest hitched, her blue eyes blinking wider, and she inched a step back just before he seized her by the waist and their lips collided in a flurry of sparks. She met him breathless, grasping, throwing her arms around his neck, all the bottled-up heat and passion igniting like a wildfire. And the world went up in flames.

She melted into him and chased his mouth with hers, his beard scraping her chin, making her gasp. Ozai took advantage of her open lips to run his tongue along them, rewarding him with a breathless sound of pleasure. Dragging her fingers down the hard grooves of his chest and abdomen, down to the V at his hips, she sent another scorching wave of heat crashing through him. Ozai tightened his arms around her and hauled Katara into him until there was nothing left between them. Another gasp, the urgency of it awakening something feral within him.

Ozai blocked out all thought about what this was, what it might mean, what further mess he might create for himself and kissed her harder until all reason dissolved and there was nothing but flesh and fire. Until he became a living pulse, conscious only of what he wanted to do to her. He never wanted to stop.

It was like fireworks going off all over his skin, and suddenly they were sinking to the ground in a tangle, all hands and lips and, fuck, the scent and taste and feel of her. Just like that, she was straddling him and sliding her arms around the bulk of his shoulders. He nipped hungrily down the length of her neck, over her collar bone, finding the skirt of her chemise and running his hands underneath. Up her honey-smooth thighs to her cotton bindings, sliding the dress above her hips. His hands splayed over the silken skin of her stomach as he dragged the little slip higher, remembering all the times he'd dreamed of touching her. She shivered and goosebumps bloomed beneath his palms as he bared her to the cool air.

There was a fracture in her breath, one stop away from a moan, as Katara raked her fingernails down his back. Ozai let out a growl and knotted a fist in her soft waves, tugging her head back to drag his teeth up her exposed throat. With a shameless mewl she arched into him, and as he crushed their lips together again, Katara grinded against him. A deep sound pitched in his throat. He took hold of her hips, bearing her down against his hard length, and flipped her beneath him in one quick motion.

Katara's moan turned to a sudden, shattered gasp, her bare legs wrapping tight around his hips and grazing the small of his back. One hand fisted in his hair, the nails of the other digging into his shoulder. Only her thin bindings and his smallclothes between them, the tantalizing heat of her and her reckless desire driving him wild, and as she caught his bottom lip between her teeth, the blaze in his core flared.

Ravenously, over the rise of her ribcage his hands hiked her dress higher and she shimmied to allow him to tear it off completely, his thoughts spiraling into incoherence. He reached for the edge of her bindings, one hand stealing beneath to caress the lower curve of her breasts, the other hastily feeling for the knot to untie.

Something stirred distantly in his peripheral. Reluctantly, Ozai broke the kiss the same instant Katara tensed beneath him, their heads turning.

The shadows just across the river were darkening. Gathering. Rustling like leaves or debris. Through the haze of lust, he tried to make sense of what he was seeing.

"What the f…" he trailed off under his breath.

The shadows stretched, twitched, peeled themselves away from the trees and the ground, and pulled themselves together, shapes splitting and rising up like smoke. They might have been cast by humans, but there was no one else out here and they were too tall, too lean, their limbs long and bent at wrong angles, like insects.

Ozai and Katara scrabbled to their feet in seconds, the discarded chemise trampled in the chaos. Fern started and bounded up with a snort, bleating frantically.

One of the shadows reached a limb toward them and before he knew it, Ozai felt himself pulled forward. Something like silvery, wicked laughter seemed to ripple through the air. He lost his footing as he tried to turn back and Katara cried out as she struggled beside him, their boots seeking purchase on the crumbling riverbank, sloshing sharply in the water as they were dragged toward the host of dark shapes on the opposite shore.

They did not look quite humanoid anymore. Their mouths yawned wide and their bodies wavered, slick and shiny, limbs ending in talons. He could see their heads silhouetted against the pale trickle of morning light, noses lifted as if sensing them in anticipation, jaws opening and closing.

The shadows sprung to towering heights and then lunged, swallowing all the light in their path. The river frothed and shot up to surround them in a shielding dome, but the living darkness tore straight through. Less like shadow now than solid matter, one talon swiping for Ozai like a scythe, nicking his ribcage even as he darted back, another powerful limb knocking Katara back. Her head narrowly missed the pointed edge of a rock.

Fighting the current, he sprinted toward her, the algae-covered riverbed slippery and cold under his bare feet, when a wall of darkness shot between them. Just as swiftly, it arched over him like a wave, swallowing Ozai in darkness and cutting off his breath.

It might have been only minutes but it felt like hours, clawing, thrashing to no avail. He felt like he was drowning. His lungs were cold and burning, his mind slowly going fuzzy when suddenly the darkness ripped away from him and he doubled over, gulping down air. Katara was gathering all the shadows around them, splitting and reshaping them. Dark ribbons eddying around her arms, red blazing from her eyes and threading over her skin. One of the creatures broke away and reared up to attack him again but before it could, she drew her arms back as though bending a wave, and thrusted them forward.

There was a heavy, sonorous pulse in the air as the monsters were blown back. Quick to rise again, but Katara was quicker. With outstretched arms corded and shaking, the creatures themselves began to shudder, split, cleave apart with a piercing shriek that turned his blood to ice. On the tail of it came another fiendish laugh, harsh on the air. And then everything went utterly still.

Heaving and weak, the red snuffed out and Katara stumbled and fell to her hands and knees with a splash, the ends of her hair drifting in the current. Ozai knew he should go to her but he felt rooted in place, that harrowing display of raw power still reeling through his mind, setting his nerves on edge. Shadowbending was not like any other bending, that much he could see. It cost Katara her very own energy to wield it. Something vaguely akin to energybending.

Nesithra…

Ozai's blood simmered as it hit him. Something he never imagined he'd say, but he was fairly certain he just got cockblocked… by a fucking spirit.

"A Water Tribe girl. My, what a development."

That bitch. He choked down his anger like bile; it would only weaken him and he needed to keep his focus on the task at hand.

Wading cautiously over to Katara, he helped her up and they dragged themselves back onto shore. For a while they stood there drooping as their puffing staccato breaths slowed and steadied. Ozai studied her furtively, searching for anything off, any lingering wisps of shadow. Turning, she caught him before he could feign otherwise. The hurt flashed over her face and the guilt pricked like a thorn. But before he could speak, the words evaporated.

Her thin, white bindings were soaked through and clinging to her like a second skin, not a single detail left untraced. An image flashed, that unintended glimpse so long ago now as she'd climbed out of the river, exotic skin glinting in the golden sunlight. He could never have imagined then that he would be standing before her like this now, moments after pinning her beneath him, her naked legs curled around his hips.

The smothered ember of lust stirred anew. He knew his own smallclothes must be just as transparent, but Katara kept her eyes above his chest and Ozai tightened the reins on his gaze. Somehow in that moment, the two of them drenched and shaken, her stormy eyes churning with disquiet, it didn't feel right to look at her that way.

Ozai turned and pulled her cloak from one of the bags, draped it over her shoulders and stepped back. Her eyes flicked bashfully away once before she spoke.

"What was that? What just happened?" She stood straighter then, stiffer. There was an unusual hardness just beneath her tone and she held his gaze with unflinching resolve. "Don't shrug me off this time. I know there's something you're not telling me, Ozai. You said we'd talk about it later. Well, now it's later."

He blew out his breath, not quite a sigh, and stared at the ground for several moments, carefully trying to assemble the pieces in his mind until he could knit together just enough to obscure the holes. And, finally, he began to recount everything – well, almost everything – that he knew about the ritual and the ensuing blowback, the shadowbending, about the spirit world and Nesithra and how the opening of the portal had cracked her prison, allowing some of her power to seep through. How she couldn't take possession of them the way she could others, but she would find creative ways to toy with them, harm them. The malevolent spirit wouldn't try to kill them though, he knew, at least not yet. Not when they still intended to open the second portal, which would likely spell her freedom. And the avatar's demise. Ozai left those parts out.

He watched Katara's expression shift from confusion to shock to dismay and finally arrive at some sort of doleful resignation at the end. Her blue eyes shimmered like the moon-washed sea as their gazes locked across the air. The moment stretched, taking on weight like a branch bowing under the burden of snow.

"I'm not dangerous," she breathed, almost pleadingly, as though begging to believe it herself.

He approached her slowly, his eyes never veering from hers. One hand came up, faltering once before stroking her cheek with the back of his fingers.

"You are to me," he murmured, his voice low and husky.

Her eyelids fluttered with the dip of her throat, a touch of uncertainty still etched between her brows. It softened and faded away as he leaned down and pressed his lips to hers. Katara's parted in surrender, softly, delicately, like butterfly wings, just enough that he could inhale her breath, feel the warmth of her skin. The kiss deepened, purposeful and sensual, his hands sliding around her waist–

Ozai…

His eyes opened as her lips glided over his.

my love…you are cruel…a monster…my darkest night of the soul…

His stomach dropped like lead. Ozai broke the kiss with a soft gasp, blinking sharply.

"What?" asked Katara, drawing back in unease.

I gave you my heart…and you burned it to a cinder...my love for you was true, Ozai…

Spinning around, he searched the tangle of greens hemming them in. That voice simultaneously sent a long-buried yearning clawing up his gut and drove a spear through his chest. All at one, the trees, the river, the moment fell away and all that existed was the sound of Ursa's voice, the soft familiar cadence clear as lips against his ear. Nothing else mattered, and all he wanted was to let it wash over him, fill him.

and I would love you still…come to me…it could be so beautiful this time if you would only let…

worthless…

A different voice cut through the first and burrowed into him like a maggot through rot.

I can't stand the sight of you… good for nothing waste of air…the only useful part of you ran down your mother's leg…

Ozai gritted his teeth. It wasn't him. It wasn't real. But his hairs stood on end and he squeezed his eyes shut, Azulon's voice as raw and real as a burning brand on his skin.

"Ozai." Katara's voice came on a breath, the sound of it like an anchor, grounding him again. The moment snapped back around him. "What is it?" He could see the trepidation, the realization and knowing, unraveling in the shiver of her gaze.

let me see your scars, dear husband…

At first, his mouth opened but he couldn't speak, the words trapped in his throat.

your father missed a spot…

"It's nothing," he grated with finality, trying to close his mind to needed to get moving, now.

With clenched teeth, he stalked over to where their clothes were hanging, nearly stepping on the trampled slip of white on his way. Slower, he bent down and picked it up, turning to hand it to her, and she took it with lowered eyes. Then, snatching his doublet and trousers off the branch, he pulled them on, laced up his boots, and turned back to her as she was cinching up the last ties of her dress.

Fern lumbered over to them with her strange gentle trilling sound, nudging his elbow, and Ozai let her lean into him and stroked her velvety snout before taking hold of the reins.

"Let's just get this over with."

:.: :.: :.: :.:

The whispers started faint at first. The dim shapes of words just beyond understanding, at times dwindling to the rush of wind through leaves. But the further they advanced into the twisted heart of the Carraberto Wilds, the harder it was for Katara to ignore the rustling voices around her, seeping into her head.

The voice of her father.

Zuko.

Her mother.

Katara felt dizzy and lost, shaking her head to clear it to no avail. It felt as if they were walking through a fog, though in truth, the light of the sun was burning through the tangle of branches.

They trudged on in silence. A sideward glance caught the gritting of Ozai's jaw as he steeled himself against whatever form the whispers were taking for him. He seemed almost in pain, and she thought she could imagine. His father. Ursa. Katara's hands and feet were tingling, a vague and muzzy feeling in her head. She concentrated on the lacy ground before them, hearing her mother's voice again.

Katara swallowed the stinging lump in her throat, at once scorning the illusion yet wanting nothing more than to give in and let herself be led away by the warmth of it. Fancying she could feel the cool press of her mother's kind hand against her cheek. Unsure what was real, what was memory. The breeze was a soft breath brushing against her hair, goosebumps on her skin. She wanted to follow it, submerge herself in her mother's voice and let it take her away.

my darling girl, how I've missed you…

To drown in her

come to me, Katara…

would be such a beautiful way to die…

"It's not real."

Ozai's voice reached down and dragged her back up like a drowning person from the sea. For an instant her anger was like flint, a spark away from fire. Bitterly, she looked at him. His jaw was clenching.

"Whatever you hear, whatever it's saying, it's not real. Remember that."

With a shaky sigh, she stood straighter and nodded, choking on that lump again. A tear escaped down her cheek. "I know."

In the shadows, spiders clutched their snares, the webs shimmering like witch dust, their eyes seemingly aflame with hunger. She heard a crunch under her foot. Looking down, beneath the layer of moss and detritus, she could see it was scattered with old bones. Human, animal, cracking and splintering where they trod upon them. Katara gasped, blinking as a jawless skull turned toward her, staring with hollow eyes as it whispered.

"If you continue on, you are going to die."

Fighting the maddening pull of hallucinations, the irresistible and torturous haze, they staggered down the winding, gnarled path, deeper and deeper, until the sun had passed its peak and they found themselves in a grove where the forest suddenly darkened. Here, the air smelled of a rich earthy sort of sweetness and the trees boasted a canopy of dark plum, their glossy heart-shaped leaves an auburn so deep they were almost black. Their rough bark swirled and twisted in a stunningly beautiful, chaotic pattern.

The alderlock trees. They had reached the heart of the wood.

As she crept blearily through the dark grove, her hand drifted to the nearest tree and something stopped her in her tracks as she touched it. An odd sort of humming, like a current of life. Katara flattened her palm against the fragrant, swirling trunk and could almost swear she felt… a pulse? As if the tree had a heart buried within the layers of bark. Another whisper of wind ruffled her skirts and hair.

Katara…

A faint shhing of metal. Ozai stepped up beside her with the sword's hilt loose in his hand, his eyes crawling up the tree to its black-purple crown and back down again. The blade glinted at his side but he did not close the distance just yet.

The eeriness intensified with a prickling of her skin. The insects seemed to go silent, then the birds. The leaves stilled, and the breeze died, and no creatures moved in the brush. There was a quality to the silence like a held breath. Like the rabbit beneath the hawk's shadow. Katara could feel her pulse striking her skin as he stepped forward and brought the sharp edge to the bark.

"Ozai, maybe we shouldn't—"

The blade cut. A long, thick scab of bark was hewn off the alderlock, the air suffused with its spicy-sweet aroma. And underneath, the tree's white flesh turned red.

A violent wind whipped and roared, tearing leaves from the branches and sending stinging debris into their eyes. Bees swarmed and birds tore out of the trees. Over their heads, crows screamed and wheeled. Ozai scarcely dodged a bucking blow from Fern's powerful hindlegs as he lunged for her reins, holding her fast and jamming the bark into the satchel.

Movement flashed in her peripheral and Katara spun around in time to glimpse something coalescing of branches and vines and dark flowers before a root tore out of the ground and struck her in the chest. The air was forced from her lungs as she was blown flat on her back, gasping for breath while another lashed out at Ozai. He cut it down just as that ethereal creature – a spridjin, she was certain, the tree spirits Brondolf had warned of – lunged toward him with vine-like arms outstretched. Its fingers ended in large, thick thorns that could open a gullet with a single swipe.

Ozai swung his sword, but the spridjin disintegrated in a blink, stealing through the forest like a ghost to reappear behind him. He narrowly evaded the impact of a powerful stroke, but a root came up behind to ensnare him as Katara was scrambling to her feet, still winded.

With a thrust of her arm, a sharp slice of ice split the root and Ozai darted back and out of range of another. The spridjin lunged toward them and water tore up from the earth to encase the creature in ice before it had the chance to attack or evanesce again.

A flock of birds dove down from the trees, shrieking and snapping. Wrathful talons tangled in Katara's hair, scratched at her face, shark beaks jabbing and biting. She screamed and ducked, swatting at them, and there was the grinding crack of ice breaking as the creature broke free. Almost from thin air, a second spridjin appeared and sliced three gashes into Ozai's sword arm with its thorn-like claws before he could dodge. He grunted through his teeth and darted back, flinging the weapon to his other hand just in time to block another blow.

"Take them down!" he roared, his blade singing. The blow caught in its thicket of vines, but the spridjin didn't even seem to flinch. "Wither them, tear the water out!"

With a whip of water she sent the birds flying in a burst of feathers. "They're just defending their forest, I don't want to kill them if I can help it!"

"Katara!"

The spridjin rushed forward, those lethal thorns swiping, and she deflected the worst of it with a shield of ice, but the force of it knocked her off balance. Her defense liquefied and instantly she sent it rocketing toward the spridjin to freeze it again, but it was too quick. It evanesced and was gone in the same breath. Her pulse hammered in her ears as she pivoted, her eyes combing the woods fiercely.

The attack came from behind with force, blowing her flat on her chest and, gasping, she scuttled onto her back. Ozai was right, she knew. There was no other way if they didn't want to die. It lunged and Katara called water up to block just before reaching for the water inside the spridjin. One viny arm thrusted outward, it's open palm flat and facing her. The streams at Katara's whim leapt up weakly and then died, splattering back down to the earth. In a panic, she tried again but she couldn't feel her element around her anymore.

"I can't!" she cried as she scuttled back, heart racing. "My waterbending– it did something to me, it's gone!"

As it sprung to attack, instinct took over and she did the only thing she could think to. Shadows tore from around the trees and shot between them like a barricade. At once, they wrapped around the spridjin and it staggered back, confused and momentarily blinded.

Katara didn't waste it. She flew to her feet and turned to see Ozai narrowly ducking under a lethal swipe of the second one's claws. In an instant, it was swathed in shadow and there was a moment of shock as Ozai spun around, his eyes cutting to the other spridjin. And then, locking eyes for a beat, they tore toward Fern, slinging themselves onto her saddle and kicking her into a gallop so frenzied, Katara almost fell off, holding tight to Ozai while he gripped the horn and the reins. She fought to keep the shadows wrapped around them as they thundered through the woods, weaving sharply between trees and boulders and fallen branches until a sprinkling of stars began to emerge across the purpling sky. Only then did they dare to slow down. Twilight was bleeding out the vibrant colors of the forest, leaving behind somber shades that faded into monochrome.

:.: :.: :.: :.:

Katara had liked to dream, when she was a child, that she might spend the night inside a hollowed-out tree shrouded within an enchanted wood, like the heroine in the bedtime stories her mother used to tell her. Laying her head on a bed of soft ferns, the whispering forest lulling her to sleep, all silvery in the moonlight.

She had been just a silly little girl then, but the vision had stayed with her, a small piece of magical wonder that she carried in her heart.

That final night in the Whisperwoods, Katara did lie down to sleep inside the hollow belly of a monstrous, ancient tree. To keep hidden, Ozai had said, just to be safe. The spridjins had not pursued them, but dark figures still lurked and shifted in the murk, the hushed murmur of night insects pierced by a snapping twig or a distant, woeful cry.

Though not all of it could be called terrible.

They were pressed length to length, face to face, so close that nothing might fit between them, his breath spiced and warm on her cheeks. His hand roamed slowly down the dip of her waist, over the curve of her hip to her backside, cupping her to draw her even closer. Her stomach rolled pleasurably.

Ozai's mouth opened over hers and she lied back, rolling him half on top of her, and she could feel him – all of him – pressed against her. Her arms twined around his neck, through the silk of his hair, and she sighed against his mouth. Ozai silenced her with a kiss, his tongue gliding hot against hers again and again.

One of his hands roamed under the layers of her dress, trailing languidly up her pantaloons, coming to stop just before the aching place between her legs. With a shuddering breath, she inched them apart, but he didn't move his hand, one single teasing finger drawing circles at the crest of her inner thigh. So close and too far from where she wanted it. Katara squirmed once and she could almost feel the smirk that hovered just out of reach of her lips.

Then, sensation fluttered through her and she gasped as Ozai traced a fingertip slowly up and down her damp heat, a low pitch deep on his breath. Even over the thin garments, he seemed to know just how to tease all the right places, where to stroke and where to add pressure, and she was panting. With another kiss, he drew her bottom lip between his teeth and flicked the tip of his tongue along it, soft and sensuous.

A moan was rising up her throat and she forced herself to break the kiss and bite her lip to keep quiet, the tip of her nose sliding against his. Heavy breaths passed back and forth between them. Ozai didn't close the gap again, his hand returning to the crest of her thigh. The darkness almost completely concealed his face, but she could feel the intense press of his gaze. They knew better than to draw unnecessary attention in these woods, and right now, making noise was the last thing they should be doing. The thought sent a ripple of heat curling down her core.

They would have time for that later. But right now, they needed to ensure they got out of this place alive.

Through the clearing haze, a thought that had been nagging distantly worked its way to the front of her mind. Katara chewed into her lip for several moments, weighing the words carefully before she spoke, her voiced hushed.

"What if…" she began, hesitating. "What if we didn't get the slaughterslug eggs? What if we didn't go to Myrr or Barros, forgot all of this and just walked away, stayed here in Arclais? We could start over—"

"Everything we fought for, how far we've come, and I still wouldn't have my bending."

"You think I care about that?" The words fumbled from her mouth. She could feel the sudden stutter of his pulse where he held her, an edge sharpening his whispered tone.

"This isn't about you."

"It is when your plan centers around my involvement." A stifling beat of silence. Katara took a breath, her voice coming softer again. "With or without your bending, you're the same to me, you have to know that. As long as we're together, nothing else matters."

Against her, she felt him grow tense with the subtle catch of his breath. Katara studied his face as it turned away a fraction, but it was too dark to read the expression written there.

"Ozai…" She cupped a hand to his jaw, turning his head back toward her. "It won't change how I feel about you."

"I know," he answered quietly, but did not look at her.

She swallowed thickly and tried to understand. The sorrow and dread started small, growing so large it threatened to tear through her skin. He knew… but it was not enough. She was not enough.

I don't want this.

She snapped her mind shut against the thought, shoved it away before it could take her heart captive. No. He had kissed her, touched her, he was holding her in his arms, clearly his mind had changed, she quickly assured herself. Could she blame him for getting defensive, for wanting to salvage a missing piece of himself and feel whole again to whatever end necessary? That may be something she could not personally understand, could not give him herself, but it was something she could help him reclaim.

"If this is so important to you, of course I'll see it through. But, just… think about what I said. Okay?"

There was a moment when she though he might say nothing. But at last, he murmured assent, a breath on the shell of her ear, making her shiver.

She softened with a sigh and let him draw her in, her arms folding against the strong wall of his chest. He felt warm and familiar. He felt solid and safe. She wanted to cling to him, bury her face in the crook of his neck, and never let go.


A/N: So, things are happening. I am hoping/expecting that the updates will pick up hereafter. Several parts of upcoming chapters are already written and I feel like whatever block I had was unblocked so... I don't like making promises, but I will leave you with that. Thank you for your support, your patience, and for sticking with this story.