Water

The Northern Tribe

The celebration had nothing to do with their arrival. Katara knew that. It was a complete coincidence that the princess's birthday was being celebrated on the evening after their arrival. They just happened to be invited because practically the entire city was attending the feast, and no one could be bothered to get the newcomers settled into their accommodations in the meantime. This was just a convenient way to keep them out of trouble while the tribe celebrated.

But it was a little jarring to be thrown into the celebration so soon after their arrival. Especially when the council had been so reluctant to let them stay at all. The shift between the chief's interrogation and the feast was jarring, to say the least.

And it didn't help that they were sitting right next to the princess herself, right where the tribe's attention was focused. Though the celebration had nothing to do with their arrival, there were enough staring eyes on Katara and the boys that it felt like they were at the center of the whole thing.

It wasn't the attention itself that bothered Katara. She was perfectly content to be in the middle of things most of the time. She'd enjoyed the feast at King Bumi's palace, and the smaller one at the Northern Air Temple, and those had been all about her little group. She was even fine with making speeches when the need arose. She didn't really care whether people stared at her or not, so long as they were passably friendly.

No, something else was bothering her. Not the fact that there was a lot of undue attention being aimed in her general direction—she'd caught several people staring directly at her already—but the fact that all that attention should have been somewhere else. This was the princess's feast, after all. She should have been the focus of the night, not Katara and her friends. But it was awfully hard to avoid attracting attention when she was within arm's reach of the princess.

Katara snuck a sideways glance at the princess as a family made their way forward to wish her a good birthday and good fortune. The princess seemed nice. She'd been the only person in the council meeting earlier who'd come close to cracking a smile, and though she hadn't said much so far, she certainly hadn't been cold to Katara or the others. Which made it even more awkward when the family of northerners reached the front of the room and wouldn't actually look at the princess half the time. Didn't these people realize how massively rude it was to ignore the actual focus of the celebration?

Although that was probably still better than whatever Sokka was trying to do on Katara's other side. While Aang had at least found someone to talk to on his end of the row, Sokka kept leaning back and forth around Katara, constantly trying to sneak peeks at the princess. He gave a long, wistful sigh, and Katara rolled her eyes. He wasn't even trying to be subtle.

"—of course. Thank you very much." The princess waved off the family of well-wishers, and Katara snuck an upward glance just long enough to find the father and all three of the children gaping straight at her.

Of course. Katara let out a puff of air. She really shouldn't be surprised anymore. The only time people had stopped staring was during the bending performances and the speeches that followed. But now, all of that was over, and there was nothing to keep them from drilling their eyes through Katara's skull for the rest of the night.

When there was finally a lull, the princess spoke again. "I'm very sorry that you all had to sit here."

It took a second before Katara realized that the princess was talking to her. "Oh. That's—why are you sorry about that?"

"I haven't been able to be a very good hostess tonight. That wasn't my intention."

Katara shook her head. "No, it's okay. You have—plenty of people you need to worry about."

"And—" the princess added, "—you seem uncomfortable. I'm sorry that you weren't able to sit somewhere more private."

Katara's mouth opened and closed again. The princess wasn't just nice, she was almost too nice.

"No, it's really fine. I'm really not uncomfortable."

"Are you certain?"

Katara nodded. "To be honest, I'm just glad that we aren't being interrogated anymore."

The princess laughed, and Katara could swear that she heard yet another wistful sigh from Sokka. It took a great deal of restraint to keep from rolling her eyes. For someone who'd given her such a hard time about having a crush when they'd met Jet, he was making astonishingly little effort at hiding his own feelings.

Katara looked out at the crowd again, at all the people openly staring at strangers instead of the princess they were meant to be celebrating. "If anything, I feel bad that half of your party isn't paying attention to you."

"I don't mind at all. In fact, I was very happy that my father seated us all together. You're the first visitors I can remember, and I would have hated to miss the opportunity to meet you all." A short pause. "And as much as I enjoy the celebration, there are only so many ways to say thank you, and I believe I've already exhausted them all."

Katara smiled. "I think I forgot to introduce myself. I'm Katara."

"Yue." The princess returned her slight bow.

Before Katara could say anything else, an arm smacked across her back, pushing her forward, and Sokka reached around behind her.

"And I'm Sokka."

Katara gaped for a second before she shoved him off and sat up straight again. Did he really think he was going to impress anyone that way?

"Sorry. The pushy one is my brother, and our friend, Aang, is just on the other side." She craned her neck, trying to get Aang's attention, but he was too occupied in his own conversation to notice.

Yue didn't seem to mind Sokka's pushiness. She leaned backward to give him a smile around Katara's back, and Katara heard him choke on his drink.

Ugh. Was this going to keep happening? Was she doomed to be stuck in the middle of a weird, smiley, blushy mess for the entire night?

"It's wonderful to meet you all," Yue said warmly. "We hear so little from the outside world, and I'm very happy to meet visitors so close to my own age." She paused, looking out over the crowd. "I can't begin to imagine how extraordinary your journey here must have been."

It hadn't been that long ago when Katara was very much the same—when she, like Yue, had never seen the world outside the ice and snow of her homeland. But she could hardly remember what that felt like anymore. She couldn't remember what it was like to be awed by a world blanketed in vegetation rather than snow, or the sight of cities made of stone.

It felt like so long since the time when the only people she knew were her own. Now, she knew someone from each and every nation. She'd been to every nation, even if it was only for an afternoon.

Technically, she'd held hands with a boy from every nation. Not always by choice, but that didn't make it any less real.

She didn't know how she was supposed to feel about that.

She shook herself a little. "It's been incredible. There are so many things I never could have imagined back at the South Pole. Even here. Your city is so much bigger than home."

"Is it?"

Katara nodded. "I think our whole village would fit in your council room. At least as long as the men were still gone."

Yue made a small, thoughtful sound. "I think I'd like to see the South Pole someday. If it's ever safe to go beyond the walls, I would love to meet our sister tribe."

"Wait. You've never been outside the city?" Spending her whole life at the South Pole had been one thing, but at least Katara had ventured outside the village before finding Aang. There was always plenty of hunting, fishing, and foraging to be done, and none of that was possible in the confines of the village.

Yue shook her head. "Only our patrols leave the city."

Sokka leaned around in front of Katara this time, nearly knocking over her bowl in the process. "Would you like to change that? I'm practically a professional traveler at this point. I'd be happy to show you around."

Katara managed to catch her bowl before it tipped and shot him a glare. "Stop trying to stick your knee in my food."

"Maybe if you'd eat your food, it wouldn't be a problem anymore."

Somehow, Yue still seemed charmed by all of Sokka's nonsense. "I would like that very much, but I don't think it's probably wise. With the war going on, it's safest to stay behind the walls." She delicately pushed a bit of boiled fish across her plate. "I admire your courage. All of you. It must have been terrifying to travel so far knowing that firebenders might find you at any moment."

"They did find us," Katara said. Her hands tightened against her will. "Quite a few times, actually. I don't think we'd be here if they hadn't."

Sokka scoffed, leaning back into his own seat. "I think we'd have gotten here a lot sooner if it hadn't been for a certain firebender."

She glared at him. That was not the point she was trying to make. "Yeah? And if that certain firebender hadn't crashed his ship into our village, do you think we would have left?" They'd probably still be back at the South Pole, struggling to keep Aang from running off to go penguin sledding every afternoon. Or if they'd left home, they'd still be back at Kyoshi Island or Omashu, riding the Unagi or the mail chutes.

He narrowed his eyes right back at her. "That—is partly true."

"It's completely true, and you know it."

Wide-eyed, Yue interjected, "The Fire Nation found you and you didn't turn back?"

"Of course we didn't." Sokka craned back and forth around Katara a few times, then put his elbow on her shoulder and pushed himself up so he could talk over her head. "See, we really couldn't turn back. The Fire Nation found our village, so they'd know where to look if we turned around. And these two needed teachers, and we couldn't find that at home either." He puffed up his chest. "Luckily, I was the greatest warrior in our village, so my little sister didn't have to travel without protection."

Katara jabbed him with her elbow. "Best in the village doesn't mean very much when you're the only one."

With a grunt, Sokka fell back onto his rear, and Yue giggled.

Oh no. Katara was stuck in the middle of a weird, flirty, blushy thing.

"I'm sure you're an excellent warrior, Sokka."

Katara didn't even have to turn her head to see that they were both blushing. Ugh. Yue was nice, but her taste in boys was definitely questionable.

This was probably a stupid idea, Zuko told himself. He was probably going to get himself caught.

He was definitely going to do it anyway.

He peered out into the hall one more time before he closed the door to the supply closet behind him and jammed a chair beneath the handle. Hardly anyone seemed to use this supply closet, so it might be okay. If no one tried to enter the supply closet, no one would notice that the door was blocked. If no one noticed that the door was blocked, then no one would try to burst in on him. And if no one could burst in, then no one would find out what Zuko was up to.

This was probably a stupid idea, but for once, he'd considered the risks. That was already more planning than he usually did, which meant that this had to be better than most of his plans. Probably. Either that, or he was so bad at planning that this would be even worse.

But there was only one way to find out which way it would go.

After a long, slow breath, Zuko grabbed the rim of a shelf and clambered to the top, doing his best to keep the steel from clattering under his weight. At the top, he strained backward, fumbling until his hand bumped against the latch that held an air vent closed. He kept fumbling until the latch sprang open and the grating swung away.

Zuko winced. Too loud. He did his best to stop the grating from swinging before all the rattling and creaking could alert someone outside.

There was no time to worry about the noise, though, and he grabbed onto the edge of the opening and hauled himself up into the shaft. Even with his armor left behind in the storage closet, the space was tight, but he fit. That was really all that mattered. He could get in, and he should be able to get back out.

Quiet as he could, he pulled himself a few inches at a time down the ventilation shaft. The grate he'd climbed through was just across the hall from Zhao's cabin, where Uncle was meeting with Zhao.

He'd thought about trying other tactics. Zuko had actually managed to creep up on Zhao a few times undetected. The armor and helmet rendered him practically invisible, and with enough patience, he could go almost anywhere. But trying to stay close enough to eavesdrop was too risky for even his tastes, and Zhao would never say anything useful in front of some nameless soldier. If Zuko was going to find out what Zhao was planning, he had to find a way to get close and stay hidden.

For now, listening to Zhao's meetings through an air vent was the best solution he could think of.

He wriggled his way down the ventilation shaft a few inches at a time, doing his best not to make too much noise. Now that he was up here, he realized that he should have left his boots behind too—they kept thumping against the sides of the shaft every time his legs moved. It was a little late to go back now, though. Dragging himself on his stomach through such a confined space was far more tiring than he expected.

At long last, he reached the vent he needed and lay still for a while, just short of the grating. It was a good thing he hadn't needed to go much farther or make any sharp turns. Now that he was here, he wasn't entirely sure how he was going to get back out. Maybe he should have been worried about that. Oh, well. He'd figure it out when the time came. For now at least, he was securely in place for eavesdropping. So long as he remained silent and no one tried to get into the storage closet, he would stay perfectly safe, perfectly hidden.

"—prefer the eastern or western approach?" Zhao's voice, only slightly muffled, reached Zuko, and he raised his head, trying to peer through the grating. He couldn't see much, just a few stripes of steel floor and an ornate red rug.

"From an offensive or defensive perspective?" That one was Uncle.

"From all perspectives. I don't need options. I need to know the best way to take the city."

"Then I am afraid I cannot provide an answer. There are no absolutes in war."

Zhao allowed a pause before he let out a sigh. "I must admit that I am somewhat disappointed, General Iroh. I understand that you have suffered a great loss, but it's hardly the first time. Your knack for siege tactics seems to have dulled."

Zuko's jaw clenched. Maybe it was a good thing he was stuck in the ceiling for this. He probably would have punched Zhao if he'd been any closer.

"One cannot simply recover from the loss of a child, Admiral Zhao. It is a sort of wound that never heals. The best that can be hoped for is that when a new path opens, the old wounds do not block the way." There was a pause, and Zuko could picture the exact look on Uncle's face. "I only hope that you never have to feel such a loss."

Another pause followed. If it wasn't such a staggering risk, Zuko would be tempted to open the grating. Zhao must have been squirming after that one, and he wanted to see the admiral skewered by Uncle's words at least once.

"Were you able to find any clearer cause for the accident?"

"Nothing definitive." Uncle's tone revealed nothing but sorrow—the same sorrow that flashed across his face every time Zuko made the mistake of mentioning the explosion. "I can only conclude that you were correct. The engines seem to have malfunctioned after the damage from the storm."

Zuko's insides clenched. Accident. He'd known that Zhao was calling it an accident all along, but hearing it stung. A tragic, unavoidable accident. How far had that explanation spread? Did people really believe it? Did anyone even suspect the truth?

Would Uncle have believed Zhao too?

"Of course. Unless—"

"Unless what?"

Zhao lightened his tone. "Nothing. I merely had an idle thought, but I wouldn't wish to worsen your pain with speculation."

"I may be old and grieving, but I am not as fragile as you think, Admiral."

"Certainly. If you're quite sure—"

Uncle gave a small grunt of assent.

"It occurs to me," Zhao began, "that there are those who may have wished to harm Prince Zuko."

Zuko rolled his eyes. No kidding. Was Zhao trying to implicate himself in this?

"And, if I'm not mistaken, he wasn't alone on his ship at the time of the accident. Is it perhaps possible that the waterbender—"

At that, Zuko jerked, and his head smacked against the top of the ventilation shaft. He suppressed a curse and rubbed the back of his head—fuzzier than it had been in ages—until the stinging subsided. Katara? Zhao was trying to blame Katara for the explosion?

Either the thump wasn't that unusual, or Uncle was trying to draw attention away from it, because he spoke again. "You believe that the girl was involved?"

"Of course I can't be certain, but it hardly strikes me as a coincidence. Who would benefit more from his demise than a prisoner who already wished him harm?"

"Who indeed." Though Uncle's voice dropped so low that Zuko almost missed it, the bitter, brittle edge was unmistakable.

"So we must act! If the other nations have grown bold enough to attack—to kill our beloved crown prince when he was left alone for such a short time, then they must be stopped. The Water Tribes will pay for what they've done to our prince."

The Water Tribes? Both of them? That was ridiculous. The tribes were on opposite ends of the world, and Zhao was targeting the north when Katara was from the south. And there was nothing to hold her responsible for.

Zuko's throat tightened and he felt a little sick. More than anything, he wished that he could be surprised about this. He wished that there wasn't a part of him that was expecting Zhao to place the blame on someone. He wished that he could be surprised that Zhao had chosen Katara for his scapegoat. But he couldn't. Even if Zhao had known that Zuko was still alive, that Katara was the only reason he'd survived, Zuko still wouldn't be surprised to hear the accusations.

Would anyone actually believe them? Would anyone care? No one had cared much about Zuko before his supposed death. The idea that anyone could even consider avenging him, especially in such an absurdly convoluted way, gave him a headache.

Which was exactly why Zuko believed it. His pulse sped up uncomfortably, pounding against his still-sore ribs and pushing his breath faster and faster. It was just like Zhao to pass off the blame for his own crimes and use it to justify all the horrible things he was planning. Of course Zuko didn't like it, but he couldn't be surprised.

What bothered him was the fact that the attack wasn't Zhao's idea. Father had ordered it well before the explosion took Zuko's ship. So why the justifications now? Father's orders were more than enough to send the whole Fire Navy fleet to the North Pole, no excuses necessary. And it didn't make sense for Zhao to try covering his tracks where Zuko was concerned either. Telling everyone that the engines had malfunctioned was convincing enough, and if anything, tying it to the impending attack on the North Pole made it all look more suspicious. Was Zhao really stupid enough to think that any of this was necessary?

Or was he still following orders? Father had ordered the attack on the North Pole. Maybe he'd also asked Zhao to find some way to justify the attack. Maybe he'd gone so far as to suggest that an apparent assassination would convince even the most reluctant soldiers, and that—

Zuko's insides twisted up. No. He couldn't start thinking like that. Father wouldn't have ordered Zuko's death. Even considering the possibility was as good as treason.

"Have you spoken to anyone else about this?" Uncle asked, tone remarkably even.

"Not yet. The evidence is strong, but—"

"Thank you, Admiral," Uncle interrupted. "Such news has a way of traveling, and my brother and niece should be given the consideration of learning the circumstances of Prince Zuko's passing in person." A pause. "I'm sure you agree."

Zhao's voice, when he eventually spoke, was stiff and taut with rage. "Of course, General Iroh."

"Then until such a time as I can deliver the news to my family, I beg that you leave my nephew's memory in peace." Uncle's voice left no room for argument, no room for negotiation.

Which was probably why Zhao sounded fit to explode. "General Iroh, you cannot possibly allow the savages who took our prince to go unpunished for so long."

"I have no intention to leave the responsible party unpunished." The words were utterly cold. "When a loss is so personal, I believe that the justice should be the same."

If there had been less on Zuko's mind, he would have taken a moment to revel in the irony of Zhao's belief that Uncle was on his side. But there were more important things for Zuko to worry about, and he began wriggling his way back toward the open vent in the storage closet. He still didn't quite know what Zhao was planning, but it didn't matter. Zuko had heard enough.

Katara did her best not to scowl when Pakku approached the front table. She was a guest here, and for some unfathomable reason, Pakku seemed at least somewhat influential here. She couldn't risk upsetting anyone important, especially so soon after their disastrous arrival. Even if that someone was a colossal jerk in his own right.

"On behalf of myself and my students—" Pakku said, "I wish you health and good fortune, Princess Yue."

"Thank you, Master Pakku," answered Yue. Katara was a little envious of how easily she managed to smile without looking forced. "Your students' performance was wonderful, and I hope you convey my gratitude if I'm not able to speak to them all personally."

Pakku nodded. "Certainly." He looked up and down the row, mouth twisted up like he was sucking on something sour. What an absolute crank. Couldn't he even muster a fake smile in the middle of wishing Yue a happy birthday?

Yue remained perfectly pleasant. "Katara, Sokka, and Aang—" she craned her head toward Aang, but couldn't quite get his attention. "This is Master Pakku. He oversees all our waterbending lesson as well as teaching the most advanced students."

That guy? He was a teacher?

Katara couldn't doubt his bending ability—from the little she'd seen, she knew he was a master, but teaching took a lot more than that. It took patience and understanding and tact, none of which she could imagine coming from the same old crank who'd interrupted her when she was trying to explain why they were all here.

She forced a smile anyway. She, at least, knew how to play nice when she had to. That was one definite advantage she had over Pakku. If getting on Pakku's good side was what she needed to do in order to guarantee that she wouldn't end up teaching herself again, she'd do it.

"I'm excited to learn to do more with my bending," Katara said, keeping the edge of resentment buried as deep as she could. "I know it's going to be a lot of work, and I can't wait to get started."

Pakku looked down his long nose at her. "Hmpf. Yes, I'm sure you will enjoy your healing lessons."

"What—"

Before she had a chance to finish her sentence, the old man turned away.

Katara watched him, disbelieving, until he was out of earshot. It took a special kind of jerk to walk away in the middle of a question like that. Just like it took a special kind of jerk to interrupt in the middle of an explanation that the chief himself had asked for.

Maybe she shouldn't have been surprised. After all, Pakku had already proven himself to be a massive jerk. That wasn't likely to change anytime soon. She huffed and let her shoulders slump forward just a bit. "So much for playing nice to get on his good side."

Yue smiled. "Master Pakku isn't always so bad. He can be quite kind sometimes."

Katara picked up her cup and held it in front of her mouth. "He seems like a pruney old crank to me," she said before taking a sip.

Yue's response was immediate and perfectly steady. "I said kind, not pleasant."

Katara nearly choked on her sip of water, and it took a tremendous amount of effort to swallow before bursting into laughter.

Yue laughed too, her cheeks reddening as though she was unaccustomed to speaking so bluntly. As far as Katara was concerned, she should do it more often. She was funnier than she probably knew.

"I'm—I'm sorry," Yue managed between giggles. "If it's any consolation, Master Pakku won't have very much to do with your training."

She had a good point. If Pakku only taught the advanced classes, then Katara wouldn't have to deal with him very much. At least not at the beginning. She had no intention of spending much time in the beginners' lessons—in fact, she was fairly confident that she'd at least be able to move on from the simplest classes in a matter of days—but the intermediate lessons would probably take some time. At any rate, Katara should be able to prove herself long before she had to deal with Pakku. After all, she'd already mastered nearly half of her first waterbending scroll and taught herself to pull water directly out of the air. That had to be worth something.

"That does make me feel a little better," she conceded.

Sokka shoved Katara back a little so he could gawp at Yue again. "So—I'm sure there's lessons for nonbenders too. Who do I need to talk to about that? Do you ever come to watch? Because I think you'd be very impressed by—"

A boy with chin-length hair and a crooked smirk sidled up to them. "Evening, Princess Yue."

"Oh!" Yue turned toward the voice with a start, and her smile grew a little tight. "Good evening, Hahn."

Katara narrowed her eyes. There was something about Hahn that made her skin crawl. He was probably Sokka's age and height, and close enough to handsome, she supposed, but there was still something she didn't like. His smirk, probably.

Of course it didn't help that Yue's usual warmth seemed strained by his presence alone.

"You know, it's a real shame your father is keeping you busy entertaining the rabble like this. If you weren't busy, you and I could turn this into a real party."

Yue's brittle smile persisted. "Thank you for your concern, Hahn, but it isn't necessary. I am enjoying the opportunity to get to know our visitors very much."

"You're always so happy to do what's expected, aren't you?" Hahn's tone was a little too admiring. "That's okay." His eyes slipped toward Katara. "Your new friend could always come along. I wouldn't mind getting to know her better."

Ew, ew, ew, ew, ew. Katara wasn't entirely sure what Hahn was trying to suggest, but his insinuating tone made the skin-crawling sensation even worse. Whatever else this guy may have been, he was a creep first and foremost.

"I would mind," she blurted.

Yue's expression just barely twitched. "Thank you, Hahn, but I must decline. There are still many people I need to thank, and I wouldn't wish to leave our three visitors alone on their first night in the city."

Hahn looked farther down the row, toward Sokka and Aang, and his lip curled in disgust. Katara didn't even have to look to feel Sokka returning the glare.

"Well, then I hope I'll have another chance to spend time with you soon, Princess Yue." Without so much as glancing at the others, he sauntered away.

"What a creep," Sokka said under his breath.

Katara nodded. The worst kind of creep too. The kind who could probably be deceptively charming if he felt like it.

Yue didn't seem to hear that, or if she did, she gave no acknowledgement. Instead, she watched until Hahn disappeared into the crowd before speaking.

"Sokka, you asked about training with our warriors, didn't you?"

Sokka jumped. "I—uh. Yeah, I think so."

With a delicate little smile, Yue nodded. "Hahn's father is the person you will need to speak with. He trains our young warriors." She looked out at the crowd again. "I have never watched their training, but it is my understanding that Hahn is the best fighter of his age."

"We'll see about that," Sokka muttered under his breath.

Katara shot him a look. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Take a guess."

She didn't have to. She could easily picture Sokka marching into the training grounds and challenging Hahn to a fight. Of course she couldn't blame Sokka for that. She kind of wanted to smack that smirk off of Hahn's face too, but she couldn't imagine Sokka's scrawny self faring well in a fight against Hahn.

But whatever Sokka was planning to do, he was apparently not concerned about his chances. He leaned around Katara again.

"Hey! Didn't you mention that you'd never been outside the city before?" He paused just long enough to give Yue a chance to nod. "We have a flying bison, you know. Once he's rested up, I could take you for a ride to see what's out there. You'd be perfectly safe with me there to protect you." He paused. "And also because we could stay in the air the whole time."

Katara rolled her eyes so hard that she was almost convinced that she could see the inside of her skull, but Yue giggled.

"It sounds lovely, Sokka. I'll think about that."

Zuko didn't so much as look back when the door opened behind him. It was probably Uncle. Or if it wasn't, it was too late for him to hide anyway.

He frowned at the small mound of supplies he'd managed to scrape together. Food and water would have to wait, but what he had found was still woefully inadequate. There were enough spare uniforms lying around the ship that he'd been able to scrape together a few changes of clothes and a few blankets—and a trip to the ship's armory had earned him a pair of swords to replace the ones he'd lost in the explosion—but it wasn't going to be enough to survive the North Pole. He'd have to find warmer clothes somewhere, and depending on the food he found, a way to cook, and a boat to get himself to the North Pole ahead of Zhao, and a map, and—

The door closed softly. "Prince Zuko? May I ask what you're doing?"

And probably some kind of pack to carry his things in too. Or would a box be better? At least a box might float if his boat overturned somewhere along the way.

"Prince Zuko?" Uncle was closer this time.

"I'm packing," Zuko answered.

"Yes. I had guessed as much. But—"

Zuko finally turned back to face Uncle. "But what?"

"Why are you packing?"

He couldn't hold Uncle's gaze, and he turned back to his supplies and gave his pile of blankets and clothes and experimental squish. They'd probably fit into a smallish pack without too much trouble. And he'd have to wear whatever warm clothes he managed to dig up, so those wouldn't affect his packing much.

"I'm going to the North Pole."

Uncle hesitated. "Yes, Prince Zuko. That is where we're all heading."

"On my own," he added. "I have to get there ahead of Zhao."

"And why is that?"

"Because—" Zuko's hand clamped down on the hilt of one of the swords. "I have to find Katara before Zhao does."

Author's Note:

Gotta love Zuko's train of thought here. This is stupid, but I KNOW that it's stupid, which means it's less stupid than most of my ideas! But to be honest, he's not wrong. Also, if I forgot to mention that we were going to hate Zhao even more before he got his comeuppance... whoops. I wasn't exactly planning for him to pin the blame for "killing" Zuko on Katara, but it fit, so it stayed.

On a more pleasant note, it seems like a crime that Katara and Yue had so little time together in canon, so I'm giving them the friendship they both deserve. With a nice side serving of "ew, I can't believe you actually have a crush on my brother" because it's way too fun to play with that friendship dynamic.

OH! And before I forget—there is a reason for the miscommunication about healing lessons here. Though Katara was never exactly enthusiastic about healing, I think she would have been open to learning it if she hadn't known about the Northern Tribe's rules. Healing is useful, and Katara knows it, so if she has a day or two of thinking that she can do BOTH, then healing becomes a neat bonus in her mind rather than the lesser of two options. Of course, Pakku is going to poop on her parade sooner or later, but changing the way healing is initially presented to her can make for some fun changes!

And now... updates. I have one more chapter to post in two weeks, but after that I have to put Ice & Smoke on hiatus for the sake of my sanity. I was originally hoping to keep posting through May, but between my event fics, it's not looking like I'll be able to keep up with that schedule. So I hope to see you back here for Chapter 43 in two weeks, then I'll be posting for the Big Bang on AO3 in June and July (anyone who wants to check that out would be SUPER appreciated), and Ice & Smoke should return before the end of August! Thanks so much for sticking around, and reviews are always appreciated!