Chapter: Sounding the Past

Katara had never suffered from a lack of courage; she had certainly earned the mark of the brave. Now seated in the shadows, shrouded in shawls, she felt her first true pang of self-consciousness. Sure, she had sung often enough as a child in her tribe, but she'd been surrounded by her loving indulgent community. That had been half her lifetime ago.

Over the years, Katara had often caught herself composing new pieces inspired by her experiences or old tales. She had felt many songs on her lips as she traveled with Sokka, Aang, and later Toph. Determinedly, she had not given voice to any of these musical urges.

In less than the span of a week, Katara had left everyone and everything she knew to travel alone among her enemies, and now she was going to serenade them? I must be out of my mind! Well, I wanted a change, and here it is with a vengeance. How will these Fire Nation villagers react to Water Tribe music?

The locals crowded in for their dinner or to grab an early drink before the evening's entertainment. A night out at the Singing Unagi, listening to Fei-Fei or one of her traveling guests, was a regular activity for the townsfolk. Seeing Fei-Fei unadorned and chattily serving food and drinks, the expectation grew for what appeared to be a new act. A few people commented on the unusually dark corner, missing the figure seated there. Fei-Fei merely waved away their questions with an explanation that their new performer was very sensitive to light.

The young fisherman, Ying, sidled in and took a seat in a back corner. He glanced around the room, searching for the strange girl he had met the day before. He seemed to be the only one to note Katara's absence as she had not appeared the night before for the dinner hour.

When dinner was through and Fei-Fei's husband emerged from his kitchen to help serve drinks, a hush stole over the room as Katara stood. Deciding that jumping into deep water was easier than slowly sticking a foot into it, she began with a traditional Water Tribe ballad about a youthful fisherman who fell in love with the Moon and chased her across the seas, never quite reaching her but always hoping.

Her audience was shocked and then spellbound by both her voice and the style of music. Most Fire Nation music tended to be patriotic marches, the occasional bawdy tavern song, or the rare chant. Before the war, they had borrowed more freely from the other nations but there were only a handful of living people who could remember those times. Only the Spirits knew that all Fire Nation, Air Nomad, and Earth Kingdom music had originally come from the Water Tribes.

Water Tribe music was varied and fluid. They had long embraced the art form as a way to keep themselves entertained during the lengthy polar nights and teach the young of the tribe. It was also thought to foster community and every member of the tribe played, danced, or sang. No one, no matter how unskilled, could avoid participating.

In the time since her mother's death, Katara had opted for playing instruments as others performed rather than singing herself. She was never fully present during these times as it always brought back memories of her mother playing and singing with her. Aang's dance party for his Fire Nation schoolmates had set every one of her nerves on edge until she had finally surrendered herself to dancing to the music. Even then, she had fought hard to suppress the bittersweet memories of dancing with her brother in their village when younger.

With the exception of their stay in the Northern Water Tribe, Sokka had avoided singing or dancing during their journey for the same reasons. During their time with their sister tribe, he had revelled in the resumption of traditional life. It had helped that Yue was an exceptional soloist and an avid dancer. While Katara had avoided the musical gatherings citing her bending practice as an excuse, Sokka had danced, sung, and played with the other teens of the tribe. Removed from the music herself, she was happy that he could be part of a whole once again.

Katara had been something of a musical prodigy as a child. She could play any instrument given her with very little instruction. More than that, she had not only improved many traditional pieces but composed constantly herself. In fact, it had been hard to get her to stop singing and playing music as a child. Every aspect of life and nature had seemed deserving of its own music to her. Hakoda and Kya had encouraged her in these activities as her other obvious talent, waterbending, would only bring danger and trouble.

On some level, Katara had always thought her bending had killed her music as it had killed her mother, however indirectly. In an odd way, it was fitting that in this place where waterbending was out of the question, her music would return to her.

As she sang, she poured her past years of longing, loneliness, and hope into the song. Her audience was swept away with her. Many had silent tears running down their faces, but none made a sound as if in fear of breaking the spell.

As the song concluded with the now old man falling asleep under the full moon for the last time, not even a breath disturbed the stillness. Then a single sigh was heard followed by a roar of cheers and applause. People continued to cry openly as they applauded. None of them had experienced anything like it. They began to call out for another, sing another song.

Katara herself had been lost in the music and had to quickly reorient herself as the wave of reaction broke over her. She was amazed at their response. She decided to sing a happier spritely song she had written about sailing with her brother as a child. Again her audience was carried away by her music; laughing heartily and even joining in on the chorus after the second repetition.

And so it continued for next couple of hours. She was careful to include some well-known traditional songs of no nation such as the Girls from Ba Sing Se and Four Seasons. When she finally closed out the night with a ballad of triumph and hope for the future, the patrons could not cheer loudly enough to fully express all they felt in that moment.

As the applause died out and the people began discussing the performance, Katara noticed Ying in his corner still clapping and staring right at her. He didn't seem to realize that everyone else had stopped.

Ying finally got to his feet and approached the darkened corner where Katara sat collecting herself. The rest of the patrons seemed to instinctively avoid coming too close to her after the performance. It was as if they were afraid of what hid in the shadows. Ying, who had a better ear than most, had recognized Katara's voice at once. He approached the shadowy corner.

Standing in the gloom with her, Ying bowed nearly to the floor. Such a show of appreciation and respect for her music flustered Katara. "Please stand up. I've been hoping for a chance to thank you for helping me. You slipped out before I had a chance the other morning."

Ying straightened, blushing. He hoped fervently that the shadows hid his flushed face.

"I hope you enjoyed the music. I know it's a little different from what's traditional…" Katara searched his face for any sign of disapproval or suspicion, but Ying just nodded smiling at her as if encouraging her to continue.

"The colonies tend to be more of a cultural and musical blend," she explained unnecessarily. She managed to catch herself before she elaborated too much and this boy became suspicious. "Do you come to the music nights at the inn often?"

Ying nodded enthusiastically, then patted a nearby instrument as if it was an old friend.

"Do you play?" Katara asked interestedly.

Ying nodded then shook his head, his face falling. He gestured over his shoulder as if saying it was behind him, in the past.

"You used to play," Katara surmised. "Would you like to play again? With me? In the evenings? If you have the time, of course! I could teach you anything you're a little rusty on."

He looked hopeful but hesitant.

"You'd be doing me a real favor. There are plenty of pieces I avoided tonight because they require more than one musician to play. There's more than enough room in the dark if you're shy like me…" Katara trailed off looking beseechingly at Ying.

Looking into her strange blue eyes, Ying was more than happy to agree to just about anything. Other than Fei-Fei and his own family, most villagers didn't speak to him much, finding his silence unsettling. He warmly nodded his agreement.

Fei-Fei joined them unexpectedly. She embraced Katara, enthusing, "My dear, my dear! That was excellent! Of course, I knew it would be after listening to you sing yesterday and hearing you practice. I don't think I've ever seen Old Man Lee cry in all my life. I was so surprised I nearly dropped his fire whiskey on him. Oh Ying, wasn't she amazing? Please say you'll play for us again, Kuma?"

Katara smiled over at the young man who had nodded emphatically at Fei-Fei's question. "I'd be happy to play as often as you like, Fei-Fei. Ying's just agreed to accompany me when he has a free evening."

"Oh! How wonderful! I haven't heard you play since you were little, m'boy. Kuma, you must've cast a spell on him. You should know, he's particularly good on the tsungi horn," Fei-Fei paused to give Katara a knowing wink. "Yes, I remember him playing in all the marches. You know what they say about a man that plays the tsungi horn," she finished, raising her eyebrows significantly.

Ying now looked like he would rather be dead than standing in the shadows with the two women. He bowed a hurried goodnight to them both and made his escape as Katara did her best to suppress an attack of the giggles.

…

Late that night Katara lay awake, unable to sleep with all the adrenaline of her performance still coursing through her. She had an odd sense of unreality as if the past few days had been a hallucination brought on by exhaustion or stress. But she was neither exhausted nor stressed at the moment; she was restless.

The full moon shone brightly through her window filling her with energy and power. The ocean illuminated by the moon's light called ceaselessly to her blood. It was all she could do not to leap from her bed and bend the water up through her window. Since her bending had first emerged, not a full moon had passed without Katara giving into that relentless call.

When Katara was a little girl, Kya had taken her far from their village on these nights so she could bend what little water responded to her without being observed. With the moonlight reflecting off the ice and snow, her mother would sit anxiously watching while Katara practiced. There had always been an edge of fear to those nights, despite Kya's efforts to not overly alarm her daughter.

It's not safe. You're in the Fire Nation. You'll give yourself away. Katara repeated the mantra over and over in her mind trying to convince her body to resist its instincts. She knew what would happen to her if any of the villagers discovered that she was a waterbender. She didn't need to be the Avatar's companion to be a target. They would throw her in some awful, hot, dry cage with no water to drink and only rats and her nightmares for company. Hama's vivid description of her imprisonment still haunted Katara's dreams of what her future might hold if Aang did not succeed in restoring balance and ending the war.

After every full moon, Kya had taught Katara a new style of music or instrument as if to reinforce the appeal of the alternate skill. Sokka had complained at the unfairness of Katara getting to stay up later than him until their parents had relented, allowing him to come on her training excursions. It had only taken two full moons of getting accidentally frozen by the inexperienced bender for her brother to decide that staying home was in his best interests. She ached with homesickness for her mother and her frozen home.

Deciding that maybe going for a walk might make not bending easier, Katara got up and slipped quietly out of her room. The inn was perfectly still despite being almost full. She had asked Fei-Fei that morning about the other guests and had been surprised to learn that the town was considered to be an economical health resort within the Fire Nation.

The town had a natural hot spring that legend said healed the sick and injured. The tea grown on the island was often used for medicinal or soothing purposes. Most of the guests staying at the Singing Unagi had come to the island in hopes of improving their health through one means or another. When asked, Fei-Fei had admitted that the hot spring seemed to produce less and less water each year and its efficacy was only mild. The innkeeper seemed concerned both for her patrons and for the future of her business.

Now wandering the deserted streets, Katara pondered the universality of water being used in healing, even in this nation whose element was the opposite. She decided that visiting the hot spring might ease her craving to bend and give her an aim for her excursion. It was just outside the town, up a well-worn rocky path.

When Katara had climbed the hill, she found a small shallow pool not large enough for her to submerge herself in it completely. She thought sadly that Fei-Fei's fears of it drying up soon were justified. Even as small as it was, the water pulled at her. There was certainly something special in this water, a weak echo of the power of the Spirit Oasis in the North Pole.

Giving in to the urge, Katara scooped up a handful of the water, letting it run down her arm. Her skin tingled wherever the water touched her. As it flowed, it began to glow faintly. She immediately dropped the remaining water and leaped away. Quickly, she looked around to make sure there was no one around to see the damning glimmer. She was completely alone.

Despite this, Katara left the spring hurriedly. Playing with glowing water on the full moon after singing Water Tribe music to the whole town was stupid and dangerous. Her parents' oft-repeated warnings about bending where someone might see her rang in her ears. She should not have risked the visit.

Katara continued up the path winding her way through woods and along the cliffs, slowly relaxing as she got farther from the town. After about a half hour of walking, she stopped on a clifftop hearing a strange noise. It was like someone blowing into a bottle, a hollow thrumming. Looking down, she could see a network of divots and holes in the cliff leading down towards the crashing waves. The noise was emanating from these holes. The cliff must be hollow in places for the wind blowing over it to make such a sound.

Driven by curiosity and her unflagging energy, Katara started to climb down the cliff confident that she could call a wave to catch her if she fell. Several of the holes were sizeable and appeared to be quite deep. Eventually, her progress was halted when she put her right foot down and found only air. Twisting around so she could see better, she made out a much larger hole just below her. Carefully climbing around it, she found an opening just wide enough to admit her.

The waves churned a few feet below her as Katara paused to think. If this opening led to a cavern or grotto as the sound coming from it indicated, this might be a solution to her bending problems. She pulled a wave up higher than its natural range, drenching herself with the water. She then carefully crawled into the opening, meeting no barrier. Once safely inside, she formed the water soaking her garments around her hands like gloves and made as if to heal herself. The water immediately began glowing brightly. With this illumination, she explored the chamber.

The grotto was deeper than Katara had expected, extending at least forty feet back into the cliff. The ceiling was low, just high enough for her to stand up straight at its highest point. In the entrance, there were shallow pools of water that told her that at high tide it would be at least partially submerged. Katara could not have imagined a better place for her to practice her bending.

At last fully giving in to her instincts, she began bending the water into intricate forms. Singing as she bent, Katara was blissfully happy. For the next hour, she indulged herself completely in both her passions simultaneously. Not even on those nights with her mother had she felt so free.

Later walking back towards the inn, Katara tried to think of the last time she had felt so satisfied with life and in herself. An image of herself as the Painted Lady floated to the surface of her mind. That had been the first time in their travels that she had acted independently of the group to help people not out of a sense of guilt or obligation, but simply because it had felt right. They had been her enemies, Fire Nation citizens like those living around her now. And still, she had helped them. It had been invigorating and fulfilling to feel that her actions were making people's lives better without them even knowing it was her. It had been a rebellion against all the politics and divisions of her world.

As Katara passed the path back to the hot spring, it struck her that she could have that feeling again. Getting more excited, she raced back up to the spring fed pool. Staying well hidden, she used her bending to feel deep in the ground for the water. There was an obstacle in the water's path. Perhaps the earth had shifted and the previous course was now being diverted.

Recklessly drawing on the strength the full moon lent her, she forced the water to shift some of the boulders in its path. With the water, she wore a new course where the earth could not be pushed aside. She felt a deep rumble in the hillside. Moments later the pool began to rise noticeably. With another triumphant glance at the deepening water, Katara stole back to the inn.

Creeping down the hall to her room, another daring idea struck Katara. What if she healed the other guests at the inn? She could by no means run around town healing every injury and illness of the permanent residents. She would certainly be caught. But if she focused only on the visitors who had come for the healing waters and she was careful not to be seen, she might be able to substantively improve many people's lives while satiating her own need to bend.

Would this be a betrayal of her own nation? Previously, the Fire Nation fishing village had been on the verge of extermination by her enemies, the army. This situation was not nearly as dire. Some of the guests were themselves soldiers come to recuperate from injuries sustained in the war. Katara had once before shown compassion to an enemy firebender and nearly lost her best friend as a consequence.

But these soldiers are not Zuko, her conscience chided her. They are like Bato and the other men of the Southern Water Tribe. Swept up in a war, not of their making, fighting to defend their families and homes. I cannot punish them like Hama did for every crime of their country.

The group's time traveling through the Fire Nation had helped Katara to see the citizens of the Fire Nation as more than just the monsters whose country had so decimated her own. She now saw them as just people-good and bad just as anywhere else. Her resolve strengthened. As she had said to Sokka, she would never ever turn her back on people who needed her. Not when she could do something to help them. Not even if they were firebenders.

As the Painted Lady, Katara had only been caught by Aang but never the villagers in her nightly efforts to help them. She could be stealthy. From her midday spent tending the bar and listening to people, she knew which were the rooms of the guests who had gone up the hot spring that day. Silently slipping into the rooms wrapped in her performance shawls, she healed as many guests as she could before the moon began to set.

It was with a sense of accomplishment and deep contentment that Katara finally went to sleep.

A/N:

I promise to not always end on someone falling asleep. It was just appropriate for this pair of chapters. I will be breaking my pattern of alternating between Katara and Zuko for a little while. The next couple of chapters will be with Zuko. This is due to my desire to keep to a relatively similar timeline between the two of them. A lot will be happening to Zuko in a shorter span of time.