A/N: Well peeps, it's been a long time. I'm sorry, but this chapter went all over the place. Honestly, it was a dragon tail that I couldn't get a hold of and grew into a monster of plot lines. I tamed the beast and have a nice Christmas gift to my few and lovely peeps. Speaking of which, thank you so much to neverlandarling, I got a real boost to dig into this chapter after your review and PM, hugs and love. Bendingdreams made my dream come true with a follow. Annabellee923, yippee follow, hope you like this gift. Tchundjong, you sweet thing you, I so appreciate your review and favorite. Smylealong2k, thank you for review and follow. The Elements Lord, love that name btw, mucho happiness for favorite. I think that is everyone. I want to recognize you, because honestly you help so much. Alright, on with the show!

Disclaimer: Don't want coal in my stocking, so gotta say, own nothing of Avatar the Last Airbender.


Merchants robustly hail the advertisement of their wares. Their booming voices commingle with musicians and troupes who play for idly tossed, spare change. Street lamps glow with colorful flames, a flickering of changing brightness. Festival spectators parade through the kaleidoscope. Men, women, and children of all economic levels mingle among the vendors and performers, a vibrant spectrum of people adding to the grand illumination of the night.

The upper-class elite sought out the best dressmakers for the occasion. Women wear elaborate hats with ornamentation, perched upon crowns of curls. Some don eye-masks with feathers and cascading ribbons. Ladies' bustled skirts flounce as they sashay down the boulevard on the arms of their top-hatted escorts. Men are dapper in their long pants and coats, vests sport dangling watch fobs with golden links and jingling jewels. The men, too, wear fully painted guises tied behind their heads. Gentlemen casually note passing acquaintances or key social connections. The separate classes, usually distinctly divided except for servitude interactions, brush past each other, oblivious to the melding of their ranks.

High above the pedestrians, hanging from the black iron lamp posts, is a perfect vantage point for pickpockets. These quick-footed children scan for an unsuspecting mark among the meandering multitude. The varied aged children's grubby faces may seem innocent with numerical standards, but life's ample disappointments have made them wily to survive within Imperial City. The patrolling policemen knock off the thieves from the poles, hollering and waving their bobby sticks at the scattering pilfers. The vagrants flea and then slowly creep back to their roosts, when the officer has drifted to the next lamp post.

Katara giggles to herself over the antics of the children. Yet, sadness withers her mirth, these young thieves were driven to be scavengers out of a desperate situation or even forced into thieving servitude. Katara hangs her head over the decaying state of the world. She strides away from the demoralizing scene, missing the comforting company of her brother. Sokka and she had agreed to explore on their on and then meet up at the two-headed dragon fountain, located in main courtyard not too far from the palace.

Katara saunters past open businesses. Absently, she lifts up wares along the carts, returning the items. The range of commodities reflects the talents of the kingdoms. Katara fingers each oddity with fascination and a secret desire. She lingers over a broach fashioned from a blood-red lily.

"You have a good eye," The shop keeper pounces with relish from a sale. "You picked the Dragon Lily, prized for its beauty and deadly properties."

Katara is familiar with her home's fauna, but never heard of the Dragon Lily. "Is it a local plant?"

"It was, but now all but extinct. It can only be found in far outreaches of the fire nation, if it is even there at all. A decree four scores ago made it legal to eradicate it."

Katara runs her hand along the red enamel and gold inlay. "How sad."

"Many met the spirits before their time by sampling the Dragon Lily."

"But you said it was prized for its beauty." Katara picks up the broach and examines the altering fronds that fan out, beckoning a caress along its cupped fronds.

"Yes, it was often given as a love token. You see, the Dragon Lily is only deadly when boiled down to its essence, as a plant it is harmless." The shopkeeper grins beguilingly, "Like some many things, beauty can entice but also hide deeper desires."

"It is beautiful, and anyone would be lucky to wear this broach," Katara holds the pin up to her shirt and admires her reflection in the proffered mirror, appearing from the shopkeeper. "But I have no money to purchase it unfortunately."

Snatching the broach from Katara's palm, the shopkeeper barks, "Leave my stall, you loiterer, stop wasting my time."

Katara stumbles back and blushes in embarrassment at the odd looks and suspicious glances from the other customers. She swings away, walking quickly from the glaring merchant. Slowing down, she thinks about the kind of person that would knowingly give the Dragon Lily and what the deeper meaning for such a gift. Are they afraid their lover will cheat and warning of the deadly consequences? Moving with the flow of the crowd, Katara finally sees the two headed Dragon fountain. Its dual heads of bronze spout water, standing on the marble ledge is her brother. She waves wildly at him.

Scanning the passing festival goers, Sokka brightens when he sees his sister. "Katara! Look!" He holds three spears of roasted meat in his hand. Jumping from the lip of the fountain, Sokka weaves his way over to his sister. The roasted spears of meat are held loftily over his head.

Katara shakes her head. Sokka's ability to find food is uncanny. "Are those only for you, or can I have one, too?"

Sokka's face falls and then cheers. "I guess I could spare one." He thrusts a kebab at her. "One roasted cow-pig for the young girl with the dress head wrap."

Katara touches her head self-consciously. "Why did you say that? Do you think my head wrap looks weird?"

Sokka views the bizarre masks that the men are wearing with grotesque features or sinister blue grins of protruding incisors. "Not in this crowd." Staring at the held out spear of juicy cooked meat, Sokka begins to regret his generosity. "Do you want the food or not?"

Katara takes it from her brother before he can retract his offer. "Thanks, Sokka." The rich spices infuse her senses, and her stomach calls out for attention. Katara closes her eyes and takes her bite. While she is fond of Gran Gran's sea-slug stew and clam-scallops, she must admit this is delicious. "Sokka, it is superb, thank you, but please tell me you didn't steal it." She takes another bite, chewing reluctantly.

"No! Give me some credit; I got someone to pay for it." Sokka looks around him and then yells out over the heads of the milling people, "Aang, I found her! We're over here!"

Aang rises in the air above the heads of the pedestrians. Sokka takes another bite of food, waving wildly at the floating air nomad.

Katara watches Aang drift over the heads of the spectators. "You got Aang to pay for it?" She feels slightly guilty, but her stomach rumbles its delight over the roasted snack.

"Yes and before you give some high-handed lecture, Aang wanted to." Sokka rips off a chunk of meat from the spear. "I would have insulted him if I declined."

Aang lands next to them with a small whoosh of air cushioning his landing. "Hi, Katara." Aang smiles at Katara, elated to see her again,

"Hi, Aang, you didn't have to buy Sokka food."

"I know, but I wanted to." Aang takes in Katara delicate coloring highlighting her high cheekbones. After their parting and Katara's ominous declaration of leaving Imperial City, Aang was positive he would be relegated to visions of her in his dreams. He didn't think he would have a viable excuse to visit the royal palace, even with his few connections in the Imperial Guard. The fact that Sokka ran into him was a miracle, a spirit intervention from on high.

Sokka had been part of a winding tail of vagabond children, waiting to catch a fallen item from a food peddler. The tail would swing depending on where the food and the peddler went; Sokka had in turned smacked into Aang. Both of them shook their dazed feelings. Sokka was the first to recover and give Aang a friendly, 'Hey Buddy, fancy running into you',greeting.

Katara blushes over Aang's scrutiny and wonders if she does look strange with her dress on her head. She touches it absently, trying to straighten it on her head. "It's lucky for us that we get to see you again."

Sokka says between bites, "Yeah, I'll say, really lucky." He claps Aang on the shoulder. "The universe reached out and plucked Aang from his boring naval job and floated him right into me."

Aang looks a little confused, "That's not really how airbending works besides you ran into me."

"Whatever buddy, it's all spooky voodoo magic to me." Sokka tears off a piece of meat, chewing loudly. "My stomach is having its own festival of good times with this meat."

Katara holds up her kebab, "Thank you, Aang, for filling Sokka's and my stomachs. We don't have any money for food or really anything for that matter." She glances around at the stalls and thinks upon the lost broach. She quickly looks back at Aang, hoping he hadn't taken that as a hint for him to purchase her a bauble. "Of course, the true pleasure for me is to be here at the festival."

Aang sidles next to Katara, close enough to almost brush his shoulder against hers. "Do you have festivals at home?"

'Long ago, now our funds must be used for either supplies or the tribute." Katara can feel an itching in her fingers as the anger of the situation the world has thrust upon Southern Water Tribe consumes her. She can feel the pull of the moon. She balls her hands into a fist to still the waterbending sensation.

Aang concurs sadly, "The air nation had monthly festivals to celebrate the spirits. We would dance, play music, and eat delicacies. It was the time when we came together as one people, but we too had to stop for the tribute." He looks around at the lights and revelry with a peaceful smile. "This festival reminds me of the joy that you share with family and friends."

Katara reaches out and touches Aang's arm. "It must be difficult to be without your family and friends."

Aang places his hand over Katara's and looks deeply into her azure eyes. "That is why I appreciate my new friends."

Sokka perks up at a passing food peddler, who calls out the virtues of his marvelous drinks. "I want to try one of those fire-fizzes."

Katara wrinkles her nose; it can be wearisome to have most of their activities center around her brother's appetite. "Is that all you plan to do at the festival is eat and drink?" Turning away from Aang, his hand falls from her arm. She places her hands on her hips and wonders why her brother even wanted her to come along.

Sokka tears off the final piece of meat with the hot spiced sauce and speaks between chewing. "Yes, a full stomach tonight and next, and right until the tribute, what a way to go."

"You would think that." Katara's stomach turns, and the stick of meat in her hand suddenly seemed unappealing. She hands it to her brother and turns away. "I wish you weren't so cavalier about why we're here. It isn't a joking matter."

"Do you mind if we don't have this discussion again? I want to enjoy my evening, thank you."

"Fine, sorry." Katara turns away. If Sokka is determined to accept his fate, she is equally as determined to thwart it.

Aang leans into Katara and thumps her with her shoulder. She glances over at him and he smiles. "Honestly, fire-fizz isn't that great, unless your aim is to get drunk."

Katara appreciates Aang's sweet gesture to alleviate the tension between siblings, even though he is oblivious to their interchanges truer intent. A band of musicians fills the area with joyous sounds. Katara turns to listen. It had been so long since she had heard live music. The sporadic times were rare at home and usually depended on whether the tribe could get a radio signal. She moves closer to the musicians, tapping her foot to the rhythm produced.

A wiry Imperial Guard with gray whiskers, trimmed in severe mutton chops along his cheeks, snatches a fire-fizz from the passing peddler, ignoring the merchant's shouts of outrage to pay for the pilfered product. The soldier takes a long drink and tosses the bottle away, where it breaks upon the cobbled stones. His red imperial uniform silences the merchant's more strident call for the police. A shorter man, wearing the same Imperial Guard with matching lower tier brocade rank, teeters next to his cohort, having already partaken in several pints of liquid fire drink.

The two men typically occupy the lower rim of Imperial City, spending their time in the whore houses, where the whores were cheap and the thrills easy. This evening, they hadn't strayed very far from their posts at the palace. The idea of trying their luck with women, mainly inebriated ones, and avoid another case of flea-crabs, was more appealing.

"Look at them, Dimni, so many drunk women who can be easily charmed." The lean man scratched his crotch, as his eyes wander from one woman or other, who laughingly tip back the heady fire-fizz brew.

"Yon Ra, you do like them drunk." Dimni staggers over to the peddler, paying the merchant more for the bottle to make up for Yon Ra's earlier rudeness.

Yon Ra had settled his sights upon a busty woman, who kept tripping over the hem of her dress, guffawing as she lifted up her skirt flashing her undergarments for all to see. Yon Ra imagines dragging her into the nearest alley, bending her over while he rammed into her from behind. Yon Ra starts to slink over to the foolish drunk woman on pretext of offering assistance, when his eyes flit to a peasant woman in a strange headwrap listening to a cluster of musicians. Yon Ra feels a growing tightening in his pants at the sight of the brown exotic woman. "There is a prize to be won, Dimni." He flicks his head over to the caramel skinned woman, who is clapping in time to the music.

"Her, she doesn't look drunk enough to be swayed by your charms, Yon Ra." Dimni takes another swig of fire-fizz.

"She'll be grateful that I paid her attention. By the looks of her, she must be one of those Southern Water Tribe scum, who washed into port today. More and more of the Fire Nation is being overrun by the unclean." Yon Ra spits onto the cobble-paved street, barely missing a refined man's winged tipped shoes.

Dimni isn't in the mood to listen to Yon Ra's rants about the immigrants which flood the city; driven out of fear for the faceless ones, the migrants are enticed by the prospect of wealth. The city welcomes the cheap labor that is considered degrading to the long time imperial citizens. Dimni has learned it is best to be drunk as possible to endure another diatribe. He tips back the mug and drinks deeply, before exhaling a fiery breath of flames which lick his lips and singe his mustache.

"I will have her." Yon Ra scratches his crotch. "It is my right."

Dimni points to the boy of similar coloring near the girl, but a head taller than she. "I wouldn't bother, Yon Ron. Her husband might cause trouble. We don't need another demerit. We will be kicked off the royal guard and forced to serve in the outskirts battalion."

Yon Ra turns his anger to Dimni. "I didn't ask for your opinion."

Dimni shrugs. He doesn't want to deal with Yon Ra when the fire-fizz is a much more pleasant companion. Shrugging, he watches as Yon Ra struts over in his royal garb toward the unsuspecting girl.

Katara drifts closer to the trio of players, a panflute, flugelhorn, and sitar. The tinkling of music washes over and calms her. She closes her eyes, swaying back and forth. Yon Ra stands next to Katara, waiting and then frustrated that he is ignored, bumps into her. With a start, Katara assumes that she knocked into the man and backs away apologetically.

"Pardon me, Sir." Katara stares at man with a pock-marked face and gray whiskers.

"Are you having a good time?" Yon Ra twists his smile into what is presumably a friendly expression, but has more sinister undertones.

"I am, thank you, if you'll excuse me." Katara tries to extradite herself pleasantly.

Yon Ra snakes out his hand and grabs Katara's arm, gripping it tightly. "Where are you going, peasant?"

Katara twists her arm away with a quick motion. "How dare you touch me! You are no gentleman."

Yon Ra eyes lower into slits of anger. Katara tosses her head in the air with a sniff. She stomps away, wishing she had never apologized to the ruffian in the first place.

Aang and Sokka swarm over to Katara and quickly whisper to her, periodically verifying information by looking at the vile perpetrator. Katara gestures and relays the tense exchange between Yon Ra and her. Aang and Sokka's looks morph from concern into outrage, clouding their faces. Katara gently assures that she is fine. Aang and Sokka point for her to stand at a distance, while they march over to the unflinching Yon Ra, whose lip is curled in disgust throughout the distant exchange.

Sokka points threateningly at Yon Ra. "Jerk, did you touch my sister?"

"Yeah, what about it?" Yon Ra says with derision. "I thought she was a wandering whore, looking for a good time."

"What! You dung-ass!" Sokka grabs the front of Yon Ra's uniform and swing back his fist, throwing a swift punch to Yon Ra's face, who staggers back. The soldier wipes the dripping blood from his lip. Yon Ra rolls up his sleeves with deliberate motions. Sokka doesn't crouch into a fighting stance, but waits. Yon Ra yells out a fearsome roar as he charges. Sokka easily side-steps the man, and then thrusts out his foot, which causes Yon Ra to trip. The soldier tumbles on the dirty pavers, ripping his uniform in the process. He lays sprawled on the road with legs and arms out.

Aang holds up his hand and places one finger on his palm, twirling it around. Yon Ra begins to spin in a slow circle with ever increasing speed. "You need to learn some manners; of course, being Imperial Guard, I would have thought you would have already had that instilled in you." Aang stops his motion and then flicks his hand to the side. This causes Yon Ra to fly into a cart.

The merchant rears back in agony as his cart of produce tumbles out. "My cabbages!" He busily gathers the precious items to his chest, examining and grieving over each damaged leaf.

Yon Ra is lifted again with a flick of Aang's hand. Spinning in air, Yon Ra is dropped firmly into a passing street cleaner's cart of ostrich horse dung. The street cleaner backs up, shocked over the sudden deposit. The crowd erupts in laughter.

Aang and Sokka shake hands and make a formal bow at each other. Katara laughs openly, running up to her brother and Aang. "Thank you, you didn't have to do that. I had it handled."

"Yeah, we did," Sokka drapes his arm over his sister's shoulders. "He needed to be taught a water tribe lesson..." Glancing over at Aang, he adds, "with a little bit of airbender mumbo jumbo thrown in." Wanting to get away and not attract more attention, Sokka motions. "Come on, let's get out of here." The three of them chuckle as they dash off into the crowd, which has suddenly lost interest in the man who is covered in dripping dung and buzzing flies.

Dimni shrugs as he walks up to the scowling Yon Ra. "I told you she wouldn't be interested."

Yon Ra hisses. "She won't be all high and mighty after the slavers get her. She will pay for this slight against me. She deserves to be covered in dung, worthless slut, not me, and I will make a nice purse of gold fire farthings out of her mistake."

Dimni was horrified. He knew Yon Ra had a temper and was often thrown out of the brothels for starting fights. "I'm not drunk enough to get tangled with the slavers." He waves his hand, backing away. "Slavers won't want someone that will have people missing them. You're a fool for thinking otherwise."

Yon Ra spits at Dimni.

Feces and saliva run down Dimni's face. He swipes away the filth with the back of his hand, as he yells, "Fruroc you and the mother of cock-burro you road on! I don't need this or you!"

Yon Ra doesn't care that Dimni stormed off or probably will never speak to him again. Yon Ra considers Dimni beneath him, born from a mixed family. Dimni is another example of the growing problem with the Fire Nation and why Yon Ra has been continually denied a higher ranking or even a raise; the intermingling of country and blood is destroying opportunities for true Fire Nation citizens. The fact that Yon Ra was barely adequate at his job, and that his mother's prestigious station upon retirement had given her sway with the Imperial Guard to provide Yon Ra with a position in the first place, bore little value for Yon Ra's twisted rationale.

Yon Ra dashed down the road to a local hawk delivery center. Bursting through the door, he ignored the stares at his appearance. He threw down more than enough fire farthings to quell questions or concerns over his dripping mess. Yon Ra scrawls a message, attaching it to the hawk's leg. The hawk keeper takes the bird out back to release and locate the recipient. Yon Ra will get his revenge and that girl will rue the day she spurned his advances, especially after the slavers get a hold of her. Not wanting to lose sight of his mark, Yon Ra races out in the crowd to watch from a distance, keeping to the shadows.

The moon had moved direction. Katara can feel the shift and suddenly tiredness begins encroaching upon her. She rubs her eyes and yawns.

"Katara?"

The sound of Sokka's voice causes her to open her eyes upon a blue and white painted demon. Rearing back, she recoils in fright. Her fists held up for protection.

Sokka pushes up the mask, cackling with laughter. "Got ya!"

"Sokka!" Katara leans in to punch her brother on the shoulder, not with force, but strong enough to project her annoyance over his prank. "You gave me a fright."

Sokka examines the mask. "Aang got it. He said it is the Blue Spirit or something. A local deity that causes mayhem or some kind of hero, anyway, crazy, huh?" Sokka holds the mask up his face again, the white teeth protrude and toothy smile grin through the blue and white lines of the face.

Katara reaches over and snatches it from her brother.

"Hey!" Sokka pouts, "Aang said I could have it."

"Yeah, how will you hide it from Dad?"

"Oh, Dad, right, didn't think of the all prying Dad to find my souvenir."

"Exactly, speaking of Dad, we need to get home. The moon has changed positions, in a couple of hours it will be morning." The mask was light weight in her hand. The menacing laugh seemed to look into her soul and judge her. "We should probably say our good-bye to Aang." Glancing up, she looks around area getting more crowded. "Where is he?"

"He wanted to go get something." Sokka shrugs. "He said he would be back."

Someone jostles Katara from behind. A mass of people seem to be pushed into the square. "This area is getting really crowded, let's leave."

A bomb explodes, releasing a plume of gas. The crowd panics and begins to shove each other, trying to find a way out of the growing white smog. Screams fill the night, as Katara finds herself in a fog of chaos. People shove her, and she reaches out to grab Sokka's hand, but only finds herself pushed more away.

A loud voice booms above the fray, "Down with the Imperialist scum, down with the empire!"

Katara finds herself shoved into people and carts. She is knocked one way or another in this blinding sea of smoke, sweat, screams, and fear. She yells for her brother, but her cries are mingled with a massive mob of collective fear. Katara yanks off her dress from her head and covers her mouth. Coughing, she knows she will keep her head down and her body closely protected. They weren't far from the curb before the bomb. If she can get close to the buildings, she may find more shelter and able to get her bearings. She trips, falls, and slams her knee into the curb. Ignoring the pain, she pushes herself up and stumbles over the street's edge. She feels relief, but runs smack into something solid. It isn't a building, but a man's chest. She looks up into a gas mask. Iron hands grip her and whip her around. Before Katara can kick or scream, a bag is thrown of her head and her hands are looped behind her back with a rope knot.

The voice is muffled, but triumphant "Got you!" can be heard.


A/N: Good news...I know I've said that before, but I got a whole bunch written, almost three chapters worth. Bad news, I have to untangle it so it can be readable. Hoping to get something up in the beginning of New Year. Blessed holidays to all, be safe! Leave a little present under my tree with a review, PM, follow, or favorite.