Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or the world of Avatar: The Last Airbender. Nor do I own the words of Henry David Thoreau.
Chapter: The Language of Friendship Is Not Words But Meanings
Katara's seventh week on Oolong Island was drawing to a close when he finally appeared in her audience at the Singing Unagi. Her fingers tensed on her instrument and her heart rate increased with a mixture of relief and apprehension as she sensed his presence. Once more, she was grateful for the dimness of the room. She did not want him to recognize her until after her set was finished and she could get him alone for that long awaited chat.
When her performance was done, she nodded to Aro and Ren to let them know that her man had at last arrived and that she would not be joining them that night. Acknowledging her signal, they strode over to the bar. Ren immediately began animatedly chatting with Fei-Fei while Aro surreptitiously scanned the room for the man. Ying walked over to join them. He glanced up at her briefly when Aro leaned close to him passing along the news. She quietly slipped out of the inn to wait for him. To keep herself calm as she waited, she ran over what she wanted to say to him again in her mind. Hopefully, he would hear her out. When he eventually emerged, she stepped out in front of him at a distance of maybe five meters. As she slowly guided him through the winding streets of the town, she kept to the shadows. Humming a melody as she walked, she led her quarry towards her distant seaside cliffs. She wanted her element at her back before facing him. Despite all she had heard and observed of the man, she could not quite trust that she was safe with him.
The Siren does not disappoint, Iroh thought enthusiastically as he sat contemplating the musical performance. He had heard much talk over the last month of the strange musician whom no one had actually seen. After such praise and gossip, he could not resist going to hear her for himself. In deep hiding, it had taken him several weeks to ensure that it was safe to cross the island for the concert. It had been well worth the effort. Her music had stirred many memories and seemed to sooth old hurts. Iroh had never been so moved by music in all his many years.
Arriving late, he had struggled to find an available seat; even the stairs were occupied. He had just resigned himself to standing through the performance in an overcrowded corner when a quiet young man gestured him over and relinquished his seat. Touched by the stranger's generosity, he thanked the lad effusively causing him to blush. Iroh watched the boy retreat to the back of the room where he was lost in a crowd of boisterous sailors. There had been something in the young man that fleetingly reminded him of his nephew. He sat pondering the odd feeling of recognition until the music began, then such thoughts were lost in the enjoyment of the experience.
Contributing to his slightly unsettled feelings, a tiny nagging part of his mind told him there was something strangely familiar about the voice singing to his soul. Despite his best efforts, he could not place it. Maybe it is just an echo from my past. As others before him, Iroh found it peculiar that the performer cloaked herself in darkness not allowing her features to be clearly seen. In his experience, most musicians craved the applause and the adoration of their public. Perhaps she is disfigured or is on the run like myself.
The audience in the packed inn was so spellbound that several minutes passed after the end of her performance before any could move from their seats. Iroh, himself, sat pondering how such music could change the world; if this wraith of a girl could harness men's spirits to a higher purpose or pull them on to their true destiny… Ah… Zuko… If his nephew had heard such music in Ba Sing Se, would he have still chosen his sister and his past over his higher calling? Iroh would never know.
Heaving himself out of his chair, he started trudging through the town towards his ostrich horse which he had stabled on the outskirts of the village. After the first couple buildings, he heard the faint but beautiful melody of someone humming as they walked along the road at night. Without even pausing to question the instinct, he began to follow the sound. It is her, the Siren. He followed the small dark figure all the way out of town towards the sea. A fanciful part of him wondered if the girl really was one of the mythic creatures luring him to a watery tomb.
Eventually, she stopped on a clifftop looking out across the sea singing wordlessly to the night. Her long hair swirled about her in the wind, hiding her face from view. Then, she turned. Cerulean eyes met amber ones. Katara!
"General Iroh, it's nice to see you again. I've been waiting for you for some time."
"The pleasure is all mine, my dear. I had no idea you had such a gift for music. Were the Avatar, your brother, and young Mistress Toph hidden somewhere in that inn? I would have thought I would be able to spot the Avatar, but then again my mind is not what it once was."
"No, I'm here alone. I came looking for you. Would you join me for a late picnic?" She pulled a basket out from behind a rock where Ying, Aro, or Ren had thoughtfully run ahead and stowed it while she trapped Iroh.
"I am flattered and a little confused. An old man does not often receive such charming dinner invitations." He was watching her carefully. This meeting was a dance; he was just trying to find her tune.
"I even have ginseng tea because I was told it's your favorite. Would you mind heating the water?" She said this as she bent the dew off the grass and the mist from the air into the teapot. She handed it to Iroh with a small smile playing across her lips.
Laughing, "Of course, child. There is nothing quite like some nice tea and conversation." He took the tea as it had been intended, as a peace offering.
After the tea was brewed to perfection and they each had a cup, Katara began, "I suppose you know that your nephew has joined us as Aang's firebending teacher?"
Ah, so that's her theme. What has Zuko done now? Iroh took another long sip of his tea, still watching the girl intently. "I heard rumors but nothing substantial that he had reached your group. I am pleased that the Avatar has progressed to his final element and that Prince Zuko has finally left his father behind. I had begun to despair that my nephew would ever rise above his past and mistakes. I take it by your tone Lady Katara that you have your doubts about his sincerity?"
"Yes, I have doubts but I am alone in that as well. Our group's always been too trusting. A number of times, not least that day in Ba Sing Se, it's nearly cost us and the world everything." Her voice wavered with emotion on the final word. In her mind, she saw the burst of lightning and Aang's limp body falling. Shaking off the memory, she explained, "I came to find you because Toph, Aang, and even your nephew say you give the best advice. And I could really use some good advice."
In a characteristically enigmatic tone, Iroh said, "A trusting nature is both a gift and a curse. By one hand it gives and with the other takes. Do you play Pai Sho by chance?"
"I've been learning it from Aang." Katara continued hesitantly, "I'll play with you if you'd like although I'm still a novice. Sokka is the real contender. His mind is an amazing blend of idiocy and strategy; perfect for Pai Sho or so I'm told."
Smiling warmly, Iroh refilled their cups with tea. "I happen to have a set with me. Please, while we play, tell me of your concerns and I will give you what advice I can offer."
So they ate then played while Katara told Iroh her life's story; from her earliest memories to the loss of her mother and in a different way her father, her lack of a childhood, the burdens of being the only waterbender with no hopes of training, her responsibilities to the tribe, finding Aang, their journey, and the various events that had led her to this island. She also laid out all her worry over Zuko's betrayal starting with the highlights from their time under Ba Sing Se.
How at first, she had suspected Zuko then with his admission about his mother began opening up to him. She had seen him as a confused damaged person. Later, she had confided in and cared for him, seeing so much of herself mirrored in him. She had honestly believed they were friends. Then at the very first opportunity, he had attacked, throwing her trust back in her face. She could not hide an ounce of the rage and hurt she still felt. Somehow his fawning attempts to gain her forgiveness only seemed to have fueled that anger. He had never once acknowledged what had passed between them and therefore his general apologies felt empty and false. The very changeability of his nature made her distrust each word and action. And yet she still felt this odd pull and repulsion for the prince, like a sore tooth that could not be forgotten or ignored.
She was candid in a way that had not been possible for her before this last month and a half. In telling her history, she left out only things that were not hers to share or were too deeply painful to be spoken.
As the sun began to rise, she finally fell silent as Iroh pondered her story. They sat unmoving the game forgotten well into the brightness of the morning. Iroh was amazed at the experiences of one so young. Her life had been full of loss, abandonment, and neglect. Yet, all this seemed to have strengthened and polished her. She clearly had some much-deserved trust issues when it came to men. But she was strong, brave, and kind. He knew those were the key characteristics needed for forgiveness. She would be alright.
Looking up into his wise old face, Katara asked the questions she had been mulling over for months, "Well, General Iroh, what is your advice for me? Am I unreasonable and heartless not to forgive your nephew as my friends say? Or am I a too trusting fool to begin with?" Iroh had not missed that Katara had not once called Zuko by his name.
After draining the last of the tea from his cup, Iroh replied sagely, "Forgiveness is not something that can be given like an object when asked for; it is something to be earned. You will forgive my nephew if and when he has earned your forgiveness. Until such a time, you feel what you feel. You have a right to your hurt and distrust; he has earned those. Although I may say, his offenses may have been compounded by those of the other men in your life. I will counsel you to just keep yourself open to the possibility of forgiveness and not wallow in past occurrences. You will only harm yourself by dwelling on anger. Try to look at Zuko's actions moving forward not colored by what they have been."
Katara idly moved a Pai Sho tile as she absorbed this advice. After a moment, she looked up from the board to meet his gaze. "So you're saying, don't forgive him but give him the benefit of the doubt? Not trusting him but not distrusting him either?" Katara restated questioningly.
"Exactly!" Iroh said enthusiastically. "What a delight to have someone really listen to my advice! It is a rare occurrence, I promise you." Iroh chuckled wistfully.
Leaning forward, Katara dared to ask, "General Iroh, have you forgiven him?"
Iroh paused so long that Katara thought she might have offended the firebender by prying but at last with a sigh he replied, "Yes and no. It is different for parents. The faults of their children become their own failures. I think I have forgiven Prince Zuko but not myself."
"I think I understand." Gran Gran had something similar once when Katara had found her sadly watching over Sokka as he slept. It had been shortly after her father's departure. Gran Gran had caught Sokka preparing to sneak away in a canoe to follow the warriors into battle. Katara had rarely heard her grandmother so angry as during the lecture that followed about Sokka's responsibilities to his sister and tribe. Looking at the deep lines of worry and sadness on Iroh's face, Katara offered, "Would you like to see him? I'd be thrilled if you would come back with me. And I know Toph and Aang would also love to have you with us."
His smile was like the sun bursting through the clouds on a rainy day. "Yes, child, I think it is time that I rejoined this war." Katara was relieved until Iroh's face grew stern once again. His voice too became serious as he said, "I will accompany you on two conditions; first that you call me Uncle or Uncle Iroh. General does not really seem fitting anymore. The second is that a regular music night is instituted for the group." Katara relaxed, laughing.
"Agreed!" she said, reaching forward. "I think it's about time you left this island in any case because you are becoming rusty." Katara moved her last tile. "I win."
Iroh looked down at her final play surprised and then amused. "Congratulations! The White Lotus gambit… very clever… and not a strategy I would expect from the young." Chuckling ruefully at himself, he continued, "I never thought I would fall for my own tricks!"
Smiling back at him, Katara admitted, "I can't really take credit. Sokka taught it to me. And he says his sword master taught him."
"When are you planning to return to your friends?" Iroh began thinking of all the arrangements he would have to make.
"In ten days, three nights before the full moon. Does that give you enough time to collect what you need, Uncle?" As much as she would love to stay on this island indefinitely, Katara had promised Toph to return by the full moon of that month. She did not want to let her friend down after taking so much time for herself.
"Yes, more than enough time," Iroh assured her. "By the way, how did my you find me with such apparent ease? I thought I was safely hidden from anyone searching for me."
"Remember when Azula attacked you in that empty Earth Kingdom village? I spent some time healing you before we escaped your nephew again."
Still perplexed, Iroh pressed, "I am most grateful but how did that help you find me?"
"Once I've healed someone, I become attuned to the water of their body and I can always sense it no matter how far away. I can't give an exact address but it's like a homing beacon. I followed it like the birds on their great migrations," she explained, her eyes out of focus feeling the invisible ebb and flow. "That is why I felt comfortable leaving the group. I knew I could always find them."
"That is a truly amazing and powerful gift," Iroh said thoughtfully. "How do you plan on returning to them?"
"Aro and Ren, my two minstrel friends, have secured us a boat. The journey should only take us about three or four days. I can promise you music most of the way." The three of them had pooled their money to buy a battered old fishing vessel. With Ying's help, they had restored it to seaworthiness. It was not pretty but it was serviceable.
"With that incentive, I will return to within the week! I will meet you at the Singing Unagi. I am quite looking forward to a Pai Sho rematch."
True to his word, Iroh returned to the inn in only five days heavily disguised and with a small cartload of instruments and tea. He was introduced to Fei-Fei as Aro's uncle, an itinerant tea merchant. Within moments, Iroh had the talkative innkeeper blushing and giggling like a girl of fourteen. Giddily, she showed him to the finest suite available then rushed into the kitchen to guiltily embrace her surprised husband.
Having received Iroh's advice, Katara poured over it exploring every nuance. She spent more of her time either alone or on long quiet walks with Ying. She was wrestling with one fundamental question, could she actually give Zuko the benefit of the doubt? It was easy enough to say but she wondered if she was capable of carrying it out. To test the waters, she began reviewing his actions since joining the group without examining why he was so new to them. When viewed in this light, his actions seemed awkward, uncomfortable, and eager rather than sinister. It took considerable effort to hold that impression in her mind but at least she knew it was possible.
Always well attuned to the feelings of others, Ying had noticed Katara's preoccupation and frequent frowns. He knew that she would be leaving soon having overheard several discussions between Aro and Ren. His spirits sunk when he thought of all his new friends decamping together, leaving him once again alone with his silence. Part of him yearned to go with them but he knew that his family needed him to survive.
Late in the afternoon two days after Iroh's arrival, Ying and Katara sat in the shade of a tree looking out at a field of fire lilies; the wind ruffling the blossoms and their hair. Katara had not spoken much all day but at last, she let out a long sigh and said, "I'm really going to miss this place. I'm so happy here. It really feels like a home." Her voice carried a wistful quality as she continued, "It's just not my home."
With a pang of sadness, Ying looked at his usually carefree playful friend and covered one of her hands with his. He squeezed gently to tell her that he understood that she had to leave and that he would miss her every day. She looked at him and smiled. Echoing his thought, she said, "More than this place, I'm really going to miss you. I wish you were coming with us."
Katara watched joy followed quickly by grief and resignation flow across his expressive face. Turning her hand over to grasp his, she reassured, "I understand. I have people who depend on me too. I've been away for far too long now. Maybe someday when the world is different, we will meet again. Just promise me that you will keep playing music."
Squeezing her hand again, Ying gave a warm smile of ascent. With his free hand, he plucked a nearby flower and offered it to her. Katara returned his smile, taking the flower from him and tucking it into her hair. In that moment, she formed a hasty plan. She was not sure if it would work but she had to try.
That evening as Ying and Katara returned to the Singing Unagi to play their set, Iroh, Aro, and Ren sat unobtrusively at a table watching. They noted the easy silence between the two and the flower adorning Katara's hair. Turning to Aro and Iroh, Ren said quietly, "I am afraid that our dear Siren is going to break that boy's heart. I suppose that is why we call them crushes."
"Ying knows what he is doing. I think he is choosing to be happy while he has the chance. Trying to hold onto that girl would be like trying to grasp a river," Iroh observed. "He is wise to enjoy the time he has with her."
Aro gave a low deep chuckle, "Katara is right, Uncle. You do give the best advice."
On the day before their departure, Katara finally ceased her contemplative wanderings to drink tea with Iroh. To his surprise and delight, Fei-Fei's tea had met his impossibly high standards. They had spent the last few days discussing the art form exhaustively. Katara's eyes had glazed over some time ago. She was mentally working out the intricacies of a new melody when Iroh asked her a question snapping her out of her trance. Sheepishly, she asked him to repeat the question.
"Have ever studied the other bending forms beyond your own element?"
Surprised, Katara answered, "No. I mean, I was around when Toph was teaching Aang but I'm not him. I can't bend beyond what I was taught." She spoke as ambiguously as she could, nervous that they might be overheard.
Glancing around the nearly empty room, Iroh continued, "You can learn much from studying other benders. I, myself, studied waterbending in order to more fully explore my own element." Responding to the surprised look on Katara's face, he made his offer, "If you would like, I could train you in firebending. It would better prepare you and give you an understanding of your opponents."
Marveling at the generosity of the offer, Katara readily agreed, "Thank you, Uncle. I promise I will work hard."
"Good. We will begin with breathing. Power in firebending comes from the breath. Not the muscles. The breath becomes energy in the body. The energy extends past your limbs and becomes fire. Start practicing breathing in deeply through your nose and out through your mouth."
Katara spent the rest of the afternoon breathing, no longer surprised at Aang's early impatience with these exercises. Thanks to years of musical training, breath control exercises were not wholly foreign to her. Iroh was pleased with how easily she fell into the rhythm and her focus in maintaining it. At last, Iroh released her to get ready for her final performance as the Siren of the Singing Unagi.
That night all four friends played as an ensemble. It was with a heavy heart that Katara sang the final note of the performance. As the applause thundered around them, she leaned over to Ying and whispered in his ear, "Let's get out of here. There's something I want to show you."
Waving a goodnight to Aro and Ren, they slipped out the back door of the inn and into the quiet moonlit night. They strolled seemingly without direction at first, Katara occasionally making a quip and Ying responding with his own silent humor. Eventually, Ying found that they were walking up the track leading to the healing spring. He was surprised never having seen Katara visit the place. As they reached the pool, Katara turned to him taking both of his hands in hers.
"Ying, you are one of my dearest friends and I trust you completely. I have been lying to you since the day we met. I have wanted to tell you the truth for a while but I wasn't willing to take that risk. But I am telling you now. My name is not Kuma, it is Katara. I grew up in the Southern Water Tribe. I am a waterbender. I have spent the last couple years actively fighting to end this war. I left my friends and brother for a time to sort through some things and to gain perspective on my role in all of this. I'm sorry I lied to you." As the secrets poured out of her, she watched Ying's face shift through various expressions of surprise. "I know that this is a lot to take in but I couldn't leave with you not knowing."
After a few fraught seconds, Ying squeezed her hands and shook his head as if to say, none of it mattered to him. Letting out a relieved breath, Katara said, "Thank you for always being so understanding. There is something I've wanted to do for you since the day we met. I just need to ask, do you trust me?"
Ying nodded emphatically without hesitation.
"Alright. Hold still." Summoning the water from the spring, Katara coated her hands and forearms in glowing blue gloves of liquid. Looking deeply into Ying's shocked eyes, she murmured, "Trust me." With that, she reached up to his throat and began healing him.
As a cloud passed over the waxing moon some time later, Katara stepped away from him eyeing her friend apprehensively. She had done the best she could; everything felt right in his throat and in his body to her. For about the hundredth time since arriving on the island, she cursed herself for not taking more lessons from Yugoda while at the North Pole. She only healed by instinct; she prayed to Tui and La that it had been enough.
Ying was still staring at her. The whole process had been so otherworldly, filled with strange sensations, that he half wondered if he was dreaming this entire night. Something inside him felt different even now that Katara was no longer touching him with her glowing hands. Searching her face, he decided that she appeared to be waiting for something from him. He gave her a questioning look.
A little breathlessly, Katara said, "Say something." When he gave her a shocked look, she reiterated, "Try to speak."
An expression almost of pain crossed his face as he tried to understand her request. He had not attempted to speak since he was five years old. Now, here was Katara asking him to do the impossible. He was not even sure he remembered how to speak. In desperation, he searched her face again and she whispered, "Trust me."
"K-k-ka-t-tar-ra," Ying rasped out. Looking down at himself then back to the wide-eyed waterbender, he was almost frightened by the sound of his own voice. Clearing his throat, he tried again, "Ka-tar-a." He managed her name without the stammer. In growing amazement, he said it a third time, "Katara." With that, he burst into tears of joy, relief, and gratitude. The next thing he knew she was hugging him fiercely, tears running down her cheeks as she grinned up at him her eyes dancing despite the tears. "Th-th-ank yooou," was all he could manage to say to express the typhoon of emotions raging inside him.
"Thank you," Katara said warmly, emphasizing the second word. "For being my friend."
Sitting down together on the edge of the spring, they began their first real conversation. As they continued to talk, Ying's speech became smoother, less labored. When the moon was centered overhead reflected brightly by the spring fed pool, Katara heard his first real laugh since he was a child. It was more of a snorting chuckle than her clearer laugh, but she memorized its sound and quality to remember when her days became hard.
When the moon began to set and the birds of the morning began their first trills welcoming a new day, Katara stooped over the pool filling the vial that had once contained water from the Spirit Oasis. While this water was nowhere near as potent, it would be good to have some just in case. They began winding their way back down into the town. Giving in to her curiosity, Katara asked, "Who originally taught you to play?"
"My aunt," Ying answered with a note of deep fondness. "She came to live with us for a time after I lost my voice. I was maybe ten. She encouraged me in music as a way to express myself as I could no longer use words. She was with us for a couple years. Then one day, she got a letter that made her very sad and she left the island. She only came back twice. I think she lives on another island now too far away to easily visit, especially with the war."
"She sounds like a wonderful person. I hope she visits again soon so you can show her all that you have learned and surprise her with your voice."
"I think it might surprise more than just her," he said wryly.
"Well, it is a miracle what drinking that spring water every day will do for you," Katara replied guilelessly, giving him a pointed look.
"Yes, drinking the spring water gave me back my voice. Of course," he agreed in a tone of mock seriousness.
"Now that you have your voice back, don't suddenly turn into a wisecracking sarcastic teenage boy on me. I already have my brother for that," she admonished with a playful frown.
"I won't. It will take me at least a week to fully develop good enough sarcastic timing." He grinned at her. "By then you will be long gone, and won't have to hear it."
Suddenly the immediacy of Katara's departure was made real for both of them. With a slight quiver in her voice, Katara said, "Good. At this rate, you will be out talking Fei-Fei within a month." They had reached the inn and stood outside its front door. The morning mist off the sea swirled around them obscuring their view of the harbor, making them feel as if they were the only two people on the entire island.
Gazing down at the girl who had become his best friend and savior, Ying once again forgot how to speak. Instead, he leaned forward and kissed her softly on the cheek.
That night as she sailed away with Aro, Ren, and Iroh, Ying's final words echoed across the water to her from where he stood on the dock with Fei-Fei waving farewell. "You saved me! I will never forget you! Goodbye!" Katara stood at the stern of the boat watching and waving until their figures were swallowed up by the distance and the expanse of the moonlit sea.