A/N: I apologize for taking a year on this. I have had several other writing projects that I had to work on and then there is the ever best intention killer called life. I was determined to bring you this as a sign of hope for these strange times. My story seems unwittingly an apt tale for this horrid disease that is affecting so many people. I wish, it wasn't, though; oh, how I wish it wasn't. I wanted to bring to you my faithful a chapter worthy of the wait. It is over 13,000 words and has everything I thought to bring to you as a gift for your patience. I wanted to send my love to those that left reviews, follows, and favorites. YOU kept me typing and endlessly editing, the bane of my writing life-editing. brunaalves, what a gift that you speak in another language, and yet you chose my story to read, review, follow & favorite, thank YOU! delirijumbaklave, bless you for the follow. My dear, Kookie, you are twice as nice, twice as dedicated and much loved. I would have sent you a PM but you are a guest, so couldn't; so what I would have said will say here, never give up...on me:) touslesnoms, my faithful and dear reviewer, I agree with you about Aang, but have hope, Aang is charming in his own way. To all my unseen readers of this story, THANK YOU!
Disclaimer: I have recently rewatched Avatar the Last Airbender, and sadly, I will never own such a piece of work as that.
The Royal Opera House stands at the pinnacle of Imperial City's theater district. The most prodigious building is within an artistic circle of public houses, theaters, and dance pavilions. The theater district defied the invisible boundary of the upper and lower sections of Imperial City; wealth and privilege are not a factor for entrance into establishments. Nobles can be found singing in Public Houses with commoners, boisterously recounting ancient ballads of an Avatar, who performed mythical deeds and possessed untold heroic power. It isn't an improbable site to find a dock workman, who had scoured off tar pitch from his hands and arms and dressed in his one best suit, sobbing into his handkerchief over a play about two lovers, whose love unites them even in the darkest of places.
The limo-coach turns onto the long drive of the theater district. Carriages and cars slowly progress up to the main attraction for the evening, The Royal Opera House. The thoroughfare is a wide boulevard, but with tonight's sponsored opera and the advent of the tribute, the roadway is more congested.
The Royal Opera House is comprised of three buildings; the center section resembles a spiritual house of worship. The twin spires pierce the night's sky, while a crystal dome with a walking parapet glitters, reflecting light from an almost full moon. White marble from the Earth Kingdom's dunes decorates the Royal Opera House's facade interspersed with black-onyx columns culled from the deep caverns of the Northern Air Mountains. Two adjacent wings are constructed primarily of beveled-glass windows, sparkling with light from the surrounding boulevard buildings' lanterns and the center green's glowing lamp posts.
Kyoshi Warriors control the crowds of spectators and pedestrians, directing traffic, and maintaining general order for the evening. The elite women force had been recruited by Crown Prince Iroh and act according to his discretion. The indistinguishable soldiers, wearing their traditional green dress uniforms, white-faced makeup, and red lids rimmed in black, are stoic in their resolve. Prominent stage actors, singers, and dancers acknowledge the adoring crowds, while those not beholden to the public's opinion; hardly glance at the multitude as they climbed the tiered staircase of red fire-stone, formed in the Fire Nation's Crescent Island's volcano. The steps' color creates an illusion of a red carpet when the moonlight illuminates the stairs.
Katara watches from behind the limo-coach's tinted glass. She can feel the energy of on-lookers. As each vehicle or carriage arrives at the Royal Opera House, patrons are greeted with thunderous applause. Several Kyoshi Warriors select more recognizable men or women, guiding the glitterati onto a gazebo stage, which isn't far from the opera's entrance. An announcer grandly proclaims the names of the individuals, describing their outfits. Katara is familiar with some of the names as they had been featured on Madame Milana's Talking Hour, Gran Gran's favorite radio program. Nothing interrupted that hour, not even a dignitary dinner. Gran Gran had barely grunted when Hakoda introduced a Northern Kingdom representative to his mother. Not taking her eyes away from the blaring radio, Gran Gran had thrust her wooden spoon at her son and told him to take out the sponge cake when the oven timer went off.
Katara tries to present a certain air of sophistication, but her otter-guppy, wide eyes can't help but radiate blue pools of excitement. As the limo-coach approaches the main staircase, it slows down and then stops in front of the steps. There is a hush to the crowd as people eagerly crane to see who is inside the darkened vehicle. The windows turn from opaque to transparent, revealing a royal and his entourage. The crowd erupts into cheers. Zuko nods and holds up his hand in response to their boisterous greeting. Before Katara can attempt a regal wave, the windows darken again, and the car starts to move forward.
Katara is frantic and confused. "Prince Zuko!"
Zuko, startled, knocks on the partition window between the private carriage and the front driver; the vehicle halts. The crowd gasps and begins to cheer, eager that perhaps the Prince will disembark.
"Lady Katara, are you alright?" Zuko reaches for Katara's gloved hand, concerned over Katara's flushed face. Had the healers missed something; could Lady Katara still be unwell?
"No, I'm not fine." Katara points to the entrance. "We are going to the opera, are we not?" Katara is panicked. She didn't get all dressed up to ride in a car and not see the opera. She will not spend another night doing the opposite of what her father has asked of her.
Zuko is relieved and settles back in his cushioned seat. He knocks on the partition again, and the car continues. There is a general sigh of disappointment from the crowd around the gazebo.
Katara raps on the same spot as Zuko, ignoring propriety. "Prince Zuko, I must insist that you allow me to vacate this vehicle immediately."
"That is impossible." Zuko glances at the bandstand of gossip mongers waiting to twist his words into another story about the sullen Prince whose disfigurement makes him the most monstrous out of his family.
"Prince Zuko, are you informing me that I am not allowed to exit this vehicle?" Katara glares at this royal, who assumes his desires trump her own.
Zuko is confused, for it seemed rather clear that was what he had said. "That is precisely correct." He raps again, and the car begins to move forward. Zuko doesn't think Katara is prepared for a cavalcade of questions that trap and allude by those who are not above to planting outright lies to provide amusement. "Trust me; I'm doing you a favor."
Katara seethes, a favor, a favor, honestly, the gall of the royal family! Taking a centering breath, she says through gritted teeth. "Prince Zuko, we appreciate that you have done us a favor," Katara emphasizes the word. "We release you now of further responsibility for our well being." Katara signals with a rap to stop the car again. The audience awaits; there has never been this much suspense upon a royal's arrival.
"Lady Katara, this isn't fitting, we must go to the back entrance," Zuko neglects to inform that the back entrance was for royalty and special guests only and that it wasn't considered proper or prudent to take the main stairs as a royal. However, the royal family made it a point to make an appearance. He signals for the car to continue.
Katara wants to scream and throw a fit, but of course, she can't because that isn't dignified. Back entrance, peasants, he means. The Crown Prince had thought the Southern Tribe was important enough to be his guests, honored guests at that, and even feature an opera from the Southern Water Tribe's theatrical canon. Prince Zuko is simply like his other high-handed relatives; he thinks the Southern Water Tribe is beneath him.
Katara turns to her brother to gain some solidarity. She can't understand why Sokka isn't equally offended, but then she notices that Sokka is ogling at a sleek model vehicle with green pinstripes. She is beyond disgusted with her brother and his auto obsession. Fine, I will handle this situation myself! "Prince Zuko, the front entrance is perfectly acceptable." She knocks once more upon the partition. The vehicle lurches to a stop; the passengers manage to not slip off the seats and onto the floor.
Now, the crowd is not only hopeful at an appearance but curious over the most unusual of displays. People begin to mill about with the Kyoshi Warriors trying to maintain order.
Zuko is baffled by this development, most dignitaries and nobles salivate over the prospect at the private entrance, and yet here is someone who is not only against it but angry at the mere suggestion. "Lady Katara, if you would see reason, it is impossible to go to the main entrance. I would think you would understand and be familiar with certain protocols." Zuko indicates to the curious gathering crowd. It could be dangerous and quickly turn into a mob, another reason that it is best not to mingle. He is protecting Katara and quite baffled by her irate response.
If Zuko was a friend, Sokka would say don't ever tell Katara something is impossible; you have guaranteed yourself that Katara will make it possible. However, Zuko isn't a friend. Sokka would rather fold his arms and watch Katara eviscerate the Prince with her words. He settles into what will prove a much more satisfying show than the fireworks from the previous evening.
Katara's face did not register the fact that she is pleased by Zuko's magnanimous behavior. In fact, she is livid. By spirits, he is a pompous stick in the sludge, as well as presumptuous to think that he even deigns to know me. Katara's cheeks blush with indignation. Her background, ha, peasant, backwater, all the unenlightened terminology to try and belittle me and her family. Well, Prince Zuko will rue the day that he tangled with me! Katara begins to exhale a diatribe against him, his family, and the whole Fire Nation. Before she can incinerate the Prince with her rebuke, Gran Gran's voice cautions, Katara, good breeding isn't dictated by your birth but earned by exhibiting dignity and grace. She steels herself. Knocking once more on the partition with sharp strikes, Katara announces. "Thank you, Prince Zuko, for your ride, but the Spirits have gifted me with two feet, which I will use to take my leave."
"Lady Katara, please don't be rash." Zuko knocks again. The limo has stopped moving at this point, but neither Zuko nor Katara is cognizant of that fact. They are only focused on each other. Zuko can't understand how all his intentions to be Princely devolve into some type of an offense with Lady Katara. "I promise you the back entrance is the best entrance."
Several Kyoshi soldiers were arguing with limo-coach's driver. Why was this vehicle blocking up the opera's entrance? The driver had shrugged in response. He had learned early to not question, which was why he had lasted longer than any other driver. He liked his job and the benefits. While the curious had gathered around Zuko's car, nothing of particular interest had transpired besides the limo-coach agonizingly inching forward and with abrupt stop-starts at that. The mumbled consensus was Prince Zuko had eccentric ways since his disfigurement and prone to outbursts along with broody moodiness and attributed the car's odd progression to that supposition. Other notable names were being announced, so the congregation dispersed back to the center green and announcer's stage.
Katara knocks on the partition again with a sharp rap, not realizing the car hadn't even moved. "Prince Zuko, there is every reason to stop here, the opera is here. Therefore we will stop here!" Katara challenges Zuko with a warning glare that he better not dare to knock on the partition after her.
Zuko had assumed that Katara wasn't driven by a need to attain heights of adoration and publicity. As usual, Zuko's instincts are somewhat off when it comes to people of the opposite sex or people in general. "Lady Katara, you seem to be a rational person, if you would only listen, I am honor-bound to..."
Katara slices across the Prince's plea. "Prince Zuko, as you have aptly noted, I have complete control of my facilities, and therefore will relieve you of any duty-bound to me." Katara surveys and notes her brother and Aang, amending her ending words. "to us."
Aang is shocked and a little impressed but mostly terrified of the situation happening in the car. He isn't sure if he should defend Katara or the Prince. What is the exact protocol for this situation when pledging protection to the crown and defending the honor of your heart's desire? Aang wishes he had Monk Gyasto to consult. His wise teacher would laugh and say: Aang, it is best to let these things take their natural course unless, of course, it involves throwing a fruit pie. I highly recommend always throwing fruit pies in any situation. Aang wonders if any fruit pie vendors are selling their wares and begin searching the crowd.
Sokka hadn't been interested in the opera, neither had he relished the notion to languish about a luxurious apartment which would boringly culminate into his eventual demise. Attending the opera had been his father's idea and it provided an experience, a means to an end, the shrieking melodramatic singing a small price to pay. Sokka hadn't realized that the best show would be to watch his sister dole out her righteous ire upon other people besides him, even better, that than those other people are from that dung-ass of an Imperial family, Prince Zuko. Besides, Sokka notes it is nice that Katara isn't haranguing on about her favorite topic-her brother's poor eating habits. Who cares which fork you use or for that matter, that you just use your hands? Sokka's stomach rumbles in agreement.
A man pushing a cart of green bottles nestled in a bed of ice calls out, "Cabbage juice for sale, cabbage juice for sale!" He squints at the tinted glass of the paused limo-coach and inquires, "Care for some cabbage juice?"
"I could do with some cabbage juice?" Sokka reaches for the button to roll down the window.
Zuko barks, "Do not unroll that window, and you do not want cabbage juice!" He had experienced the ill-effects of cabbage juice when he was a child, and it wasn't pleasant, even if you could get past the drink's pungent smell. Azula had dared Zuko to drink the blasted concoction. Zuko had done so and then proceeded to spend the rest of the day emitting the drink's similar heinous odor from his hindquarters. Zuko had blamed the noxious fumes upon their pet eel hound, who looked very offended by the smell and that Zuko had passed the blame.
Katara says tightly; her dignified words laced with anger. "Prince Zuko, perhaps my brother would like cabbage juice, and maybe Lieutenant Aang might even want a cabbage juice."
Aang waves his hands away quickly. He does know how to handle this particular predicament with utter certainty, he agrees with Prince Zuko; cabbage juice isn't worth the embarrassing emissions, no matter how thirsty one might be. "I can assure you that I do not want any cabbage juice."
Katara smiles sweetly at Aang. "Oh, well, Aang, you don't have to if you don't want to..." She raises her eyebrow as if to dare Zuko to contradict. "but maybe I would like some cabbage juice."
Aang leans over and whispers to Katara not so very quietly, "Trust me, you don't."
Katara didn't want any cabbage juice; it sounds revolting. To cover up a possibility of losing face, Katara resumes her prim and proper demeanor, elevating her physically shorter stature and her lower societal position to being well superior to one who is fourth in line to the Imperial throne. "Prince Zuko…."
Katara's eyes get that hard iced look that Sokka knows he needs to intercede or else face a potential international incident. Sokka rushes out, "Prince Zuko, thank you for your escort; we shall be leaving now." Opening the door, Sokka grabs Katara's gloved hand and drags her out of the car."
Aang nods curtly to Prince Zuko. "Thank you, your royal highness." He vacates as he says, "I promised Lord Hakoda I would guard Lady Katara, good evening." With a faux helpless look, while possessing a determined air that he must follow his duty, Aang shuts the door behind him.
Opera patrons move up the red staircase, women holding their skirts in their hands, clutching the arms of their escorts. The crowd turned to look at Sokka, Katara, and Aang, gasps, and then tilt their heads inquiringly.
Zuko had somehow lost total control of the situation. It is baffling. He usually had everyone tripping over themselves to answer to his needs, any desire acknowledged or not. He must rectify some sort of semblance of control. He pushes a button, and the window rolls down. He calls out to a Kyoshi Warrior, wearing a ranking insignia upon her uniform. "Captain," The indicated warrior bows quickly to the Prince. Zuko continues, "Please conduct Lady Katara and her friends to the Crown Prince's Royal Box, make sure you avoid the gossip hounds, especially Madame Milana. She is the worst."
"Madame Milana!" Katara and Sokka forgot their guises of well-mannered adults. They turned to each other. "You didn't hear from me, but you did hear it here first, Madame Milana at your service for all things, especially those things unseen."
Sokka salutes Zuko, "Thanks for the tip."
Zuko slaps his forehead and drops his head back onto the seat as the window rolls back up. The limo-coach drives toward the royal entrance of the opera house.
Sokka indicates to Katara and Aang. "Come on; we have to say hi to Madame Milana." Sokka holds out his arm for his sister, "Lady Katara."
Katara places her arm on top and says, regally. "Sir Sokka."
The Kyoshi captain warrior raises a questioning eyebrow. "Are you sure you want to see Madame Milana? She isn't known to being kind to foreigners."
"Yes, you see..." Katara is cut-off by Sokka.
"Our Gran Gran listens to the program."
The captain glances at Sokka with a humoring expression. "Yes or no is sufficient."
Sokka grinned, "Yes." He moves next to the captain. "Did you say your name, captain?"
"No, I didn't." The captain's face didn't exhibit any expression. "Stick close if you want to get through this madhouse intact." Sokka and Katara nod. The captain flips open her fan, flinging it forward; people quickly scatter out of the way, making an empty pathway to the announcer's gazebo.
Katara lifts her wrist with her fan dangling from it. She opens it with awe and waves it around, never presuming that a fan could be used as a weapon. She looks up into Aang's longing face.
"Katara, allow me to escort you."
"Thank you, Aang."
Katara places her arm over Aang's. His chi feels light, and he must exert all his control to keep his feet upon the ground. Aang doesn't want to waste this opportunity. He leans in close, whispering, "Katara, I have thought of nothing else, but you since I have first laid eyes upon you."
Katara observes that Sokka is preoccupied with the Kyoshi captain, exhibiting his most charming self. She weeps internally for her brother and must find a way to free him from this unnecessary doom. Katara realizes Aang had spoken to her. "I'm sorry, Aang, my mind is elsewhere. Did you say something to me?"
"I said..."
"Katara, hurry up!" Sokka calls out, waving to his sister from the announcer's platform.
Aang glares at Sokka and his ill-timing. Why Spirits! Aang wants to cry out. Why is he continually being denied the chance to express his feelings to Katara? Aang's heart aches for Katara, and yet, he can't seem to get her to notice him. It is like something is impeding her affections. Let it be something, not someone. Sokka waves impatiently at them. Katara and Aang quicken their pace toward the stage.
The announcer stands before a circular microphone. He holds his hand to ear, while his voice lowers for the introduction. "Sir Sokka and Lady Katara from the Southern Water Tribe, Sir Sokka is wearing a tuxedo and tails, while Lady Katara has a floor-length, medium train of gray-blue silk." Covering the microphone, his normal voice has a nasal quality. "Madame Milana will interview you, don't upstage her."
A woman in purple velvet of giant puffed shoulders, almost touching her ears, chases away a man who is applying even more rouge to her cheeks. Her coiffed hair of brassy gold balloons out from a giant purple hat, positioned at a jaunty angle with ample ostrich horse plumes fluttering their pink and purple fringe. With a twirl, her dress spins out wide enough to cause the announcer to jump out of the way. With the microphone free, she steps up to it. "Madame Milana, here to interview those that intrigue and influence. I am where you can't be, we previously spoke to Commander Zhou, one of the Fire Nation's up and coming best, and now, we have two representatives from the Southern Water Tribe."
Sokka leans forward, "Sir Sokka of the Southern Water tribe at your service, here for all your needs' Ladies and gents, we have ships of the finest caliber for your all your water faring adventures."
Katara moves her brother out of the way. "Lady Katara of the Southern Water Tribe, I want to say hi to all our friends and family back home. Gran Gran, I miss you and think about you every day."
Madame Milana indicates with a glower for Aang to introduce himself. He zooms forward and adds cheeringly. "Hi, Lieutenant Aang, Master Airbender extraordinaire, see..." Aang takes a deep breath to show-off his prowess and hopefully impress Katara again.
"Yes, yes," Madame Milana resumes control of her interview, pushing him away from the microphone. "Sir Sokka and Lady Katara, how do you feel about this evening's intended performance?"
Sokka states blandly, "We're excited about it."
Katara leans in with more enthusiasm. "Very excited about it."
"I'm excited, too." Aang gazes at Katara, who nods appreciatively at Aang.
Madame Milana had gotten more salacious tidbits from the automaton, Commander Zhou. The crowd is already drifting away from the stage, not to mention, her radio listeners. She didn't leave her trailer and a fruit pie for this boring interview. Her eyes glitter with provocation. "Spicy sources have alluded to Lady Katara being engaged. Are you two planning on slipping down the marriage ice flow?"
"I wouldn't marry her." Sokka jabs his thumb towards his sister.
"Well, I wouldn't marry you, either." Katara gasps indignantly.
Aang jumps in quickly. "I'd marry you, Katara."
Sokka rolls his eyes over the fact that Aang seems incapable of learning how to play hard to get. "We're brother and sister."
Katara smiles at Aang, "That is sweet, Aang, thank you." Her hand lovingly touches her necklace, "This necklace was my mother's."
Madame Milana narrows her eyes. "I would have thought you would be guests in the Royal Box for the opera."
"Yes, that's true." Sokka leans toward the microphone and says proudly. "Personal guests of the Crown Prince Iroh."
"And yet, you weren't allowed to go through the Royal Entrance, how interesting." The crowd gathers closer to the stage with real interest. Madame Milana sighs with contentment that her audience has renewed their appeal. "It would appear that you offended someone in the royal family to be excused from..." She exaggerates with an accusatory tone, "Prince Zuko's limo-coach."
"Royal Entrance?" Both siblings look baffled.
"The entrance is right there." Katara points to the giant glass doors up the flight of red stairs.
Madame Milana places her purple gloved hand over her heart. "Our Southern Tribe siblings may have arrived two days early but apparently just tripped off their little boat."
Sokka smiles, "It's a big boat actually."
The crowd erupts in laughter. Madame Milana's plumes waffle in the air with a slight shake of her head. "The Royal Entrance is behind the opera house, a private back entrance strictly for royalty and their special guests."
"We thought..." Katara's cheeks are rosy with utter humiliation. She can't believe how stupid she had been. Prince Zuko was telling me the truth, and I refused to listen. She wants to burst into tears.
The revelation equally floors Sokka. He had been like his sister and assumed they were being slighted, but unlike Katara, he isn't offended by the actions of people he doesn't value. Yet, he can't let his sister take the brunt of the gaffe. Sokka says liquidly into the microphone. "That is true, we were invited, but we preferred to give you an exclusive interview, Madame Milana."
Madame Milana's eyes blaze with excitement. "Do tell, do tell, Madame Milana's Talking Hour radio loves exclusives."
Sokka stalls, "The Southern Tribe is..."
"Yes..." Madame Milana prods. The crowd leans closer to the stage.
Sokka's eyes sparkle with a perfect opportunity to help turn their tides. "The Southern Tribe is at pier 318, slip 2005, check out the swiftest ship that bested all the ships in the Fire Nation Naval Contract Battle. You won't be disappointed."
Madame Milana covers the microphone and hisses, "That wasn't a scoop."
Sokka shrugs, "It is if you need a great ship." He leans toward the microphone, speaking loudly. "Which we have on pier 318, slip 2005."
Madame Milana will not be used for this fool's talking advertisement. "Why, Sir Sokka, you do know how to speak smoothly. I hope you can talk yourself out of being a potential Tribute."
Aang looks at Sokka and Katara. Her face blanches, and all the things Katara had said to him come rushing back. With this revelation, he understands their true meaning. Aang had heard rumors but never knew of a nation that had to resort to such a measure.
Katara reaches for her brother's hand and squeezes it tightly. Sokka returns her reassurance and love. "Madame Milana, it is an honor and a tribute to help my tribe in whatever manner that I can."
"Even if it is for Koh's breakfast?" The crowd gasps and steps back.
Sokka says soberly. "Madame Milana, our people are proud, and we honor them today and with this opera, Yue, the Moon Goddess." He winks at her mischievously. "We can also guarantee the highest of quality of ships, check us out at pier 318, slip 2005."
Prince Zuko was correct; Madame Milana was a horrid individual. Katara won't let her people or Sokka be maligned. She takes the microphone and speaks with a clear voice. "We of the southern tundra are a proud people. We know the ancient ways and find joy in the smallest of things. We are a rich nation, rich in the spirit, family, and friends."
Madame Milana yanks the microphone back. "If you are as rich as you say than the tribute won't be an issue." She adds snidely. "Perhaps, Lady Katara, you could form an alliance with Prince Zuko to save your brother? There won't be a long line of suitors for him."
Aang stares at Katara. Prince Zuko and his Katara! Aang's heart feels as if it has shattered. The splitters are slicing at his hopes. Anger wells up from a place Aang didn't know, fury at what the world has lost and become. Fury, that for a hundred years, nothing has changed but Koh's limbs stretching further into the world.
"No!" bursts from Aang in a gust, rushing past Katara and Sokka and shoving Madame Milana to the edge of the stage. Sokka instinctively reaches out to grab onto Madame Milana's arm.
"Let go of me, you backwater peasant!"
Sokka winks at Madame Milana, "Whatever you say, Madame."
Madame Milana flails as she tumbles off, screaming, "Wait, wait, save me!"
Sokka jumps off the stage. Aang sends a bubble of air to cushion Sokka's landing, which in turn squashes it flat, sending air whooshing out, shoving the crowd away from the scene. Sokka quickly grabs an unsuspecting passing vendor's cart. "Pardon me, duty calls."
"No, not my cart!" The vendor wails.
Aang swiftly inhales, and the motion draws the cart under Madame Milana in time for her land on a bed of ice. Cabbage juice bottles fly up in the air and dump their contents on top of her.
"My cabbage juice!" The vendor tears at his face in agony.
Madame Milana screams in horror as her makeup runs down her face in pink rivulets. Kicking her feet, she wails for her valet. "Sie! Attend me! Sie! Attend me!"
Aang raises his hands and lifts Sokka back to the stage, sliding him in front of the microphone. "Gentle Ladies and Kind Sirs, Madame Milana has decided to sample some delicious cabbage juice." The vendor looks very satisfied. "This portion of the show was sponsored by the Southern Water Tribe Shipbuilding Enterprise, where we are the fastest builders on land with the fastest ships on the water, check us out at..."
Katara and Aang join Sokka in saying, "Pier 318, slip 2005."
Katara adds, "We miss you and love you, Gran Gran."
The announcer drifts back to the microphone in a daze, "Due to technical difficulties, we conclude our broadcast."
The Kyoshi captain motions, "Come on, I need to get you out of here." She leads them up the stairs and through the main entrance. They all dash up the stairs.
The captain looks at the three sheepish people she's leading up the red stairs. "Now, what did you learn today about gossip?"
Sokka shrugs, "Hopefully, that it will pay. As you heard, we need the money." He jabs at his chest. "This guy isn't intending to be Koh's banquet meal."
"Sokka!" Katara is shocked by her brother's cavalier attitude about his sacrifice. She hopes her brother is right that somehow the tribe will get enough money to pay the tribute.
The captain is impressed that one facing such a fate is not morose about it but actively hoping for an alternative outcome. "Gossip is boring built on other people's misery or mishaps."
"Gran Gran is one of the best people I know. She likes Madame Milana's show, maybe not now, but to be fair, there isn't a lot happening on the tundra after elephant-walrus mating season."
"Your Gran Gran, how sweet." The captain steps closer to Sokka. Katara and Aang step away feeling the kinetic tension between the warrior and Sokka.
Sokka sobers. "The truth is, the only opinions, I have ever worried about are from people that I care to know." Sokka arches his eyebrow, "Now, dear Kyoshi Warrior captain, will you tell me your name?"
"Suki, my name is Suki."
Sokka bows in front of the warrior. "Suki, it is my pleasure to meet you."
With a hand on her hip, Suki runs her eyes over Sokka, taking in the fitted cut of his tuxedo and broad shoulders, chiseled features. "Sokka of the Southern Water Tribe, I don't think you'll be boring." She raises an eyebrow and smiles slowly, "not boring at all."
Zuko arrives at the royal entrance. The white marble sports the carvings of two dragons holding a shield crest of the royal insignia of three flames above the door. Two massive doors of metal grating and glass with a delicate golden scroll overlay open. A valet rushes out to attend to Zuko, who waves him off. The servant bows and then runs to open the inner set of solid gold doors. It is baffling that Lady Katara would prefer the mundane front entrance when it is better to enter and exit without having to deal with the fawning nature of the public. It is bad enough on the upper gallery, where sycophants circle, salivating for a chance to curry favor. It is annoying but part of the act.
Zuko enters a circular room with crystal chandelier bowl twinkling with lights. Two black onyx pillars hold up the double staircase. A circular table stands on a larger, shaped red marble circle. A vase of fire flowers cast their reflection upon the highly polished round mahogany table.
Another servant appears. "Prince Zuko, would you care to take the lift?"
"The stairs are fine, thank you." Zuko's gruff voice softens. "Has my Uncle arrived?"
"Yes, Prince Zuko, the Crown Prince is with Chief Hakoda, but his children have not."
Zuko scowls and grumbles his thanks as he strides up the staircase to the upper gallery. He reaches the floor of the main reception area for the top tier boxes, which includes the royal box. White paneling with red filigree inlay is on the ceiling and one side of the walls; the other wall is the length and width of beveled windows, providing a view of the yawning moon. Golden crystal chandeliers stretch across the long reception hall—the light dancing across the patrons in their finery.
A waiter approaches, bows, and asks, "Prince Zuko, what can I get you?"
Zuko states with agitation, while he pans the room for his cousin. "I'll have an Ashburton on ice." He realizes that he doesn't need a watered-down drink with the evening that he'll have and has had. He managed to make Katara even angrier with him, preventing him from ferreting out why she was almost kidnapped by pirates, and then there is the opera that he'll have to endure. He stops the waiter before he can leave. "Hold the ice and double the Ashburton."
The whimsical and mocking tone of Azula makes Zuko glad he amended his drink order. "Brother, drinking your problems away, what could have gotten you so down?"
The bartender returns with the amber liquid to Zuko, who takes a long drink, almost finishing the burning liquor. The drink infuses him with bravado against his sister. "Azula, I see that you're showing up where you aren't wanted as usual."
Azula steps forward to Zuko, straightens his tie that wasn't crooked. "Zuzu, I can assure I'm quite desired and always wanted." She steps away from her brother and points to the far corner to a rather sullen man sulking in a group of his cohorts. "Chan had room in his box and was thrilled to host my guests and me for what will surely be another interminably stodgy opera of epic proportions."
Zuko holds up his glass in a salute, almost smiling over Azula's opera assessment. "On that last part, we can agree." He finishes the liquor and places the tumbler on a circular platter that was suddenly waiting at his elbow.
"Zuzu, did you come alone?" Azula feigns concern, referencing Zuko's attempt to smile at his sister's opera jab. "You'd be more successful in your romantic conquests if you tried smiling more." Azula gasps as if she had made an indelicate gaffe. "That's right, smiling is difficult because of your hideous scars, how rude of me to forget."
Where is Lu Ten? Zuko ignores his sister's attempts at baiting him. At least, the spirits had spared Azula witnessing Katara getting out of Zuko's car, abandoning him. Zuko scans the room; the room is packed with Imperial City's elite. Zuko needs some quick tips from his cousin on how to coerce Katara to his side.
Azula glares at Mai with a warning look. "Ty Lee and Mai wanted to attend with me tonight, and since I try to share my royal privileges with my friends, I allowed them to come. Isn't that correct, Mai?"
Zuko swings around at the name of his ex-girlfriend. He hadn't noticed Mai and bows stiffly to her. "Mai," he corrects himself since they broke up, familiarity isn't his. "Lady Mai."
"Hello, Zuko," Mai didn't bother using his title or curtsying.
Zuko wants to rub at his eye; he can feel it burning. He wills his chi to settle. There's nothing to be ashamed about; Zuko left Mai a note explaining that he couldn't be with her anymore. She has to understand the complexities, especially being Azula's friend. "I thought you hated opera."
"I do." Mai avoids Azula's burning stare boring into her back. "I'm surprised that you wanted to come tonight, too."
"It is sponsored by my Uncle." Zuko uses that as his explanation for attendance. He is frantic to find his cousin before Katara arrives.
"Zuko, will you at least do me the courtesy to look at me." The sound of irritation and plea causes Zuko to turn toward his old girlfriend. "That note hurt me; I thought you and I had something more."
"Mai, I didn't mean to hurt you." Zuko steps closer to her. He had genuine feelings for Mai but could never tell if they were real or somehow manufactured by the machinations of Azula. The number of walls Mai constructed around herself, and no matter how hard he tried, Zuko couldn't dissolve the barriers, along with Zuko's trust issues, made him feel suffocated if not paranoid dating Mai.
Mai's eyes narrow. "You dumped me."
"I left you a note."
"Gee, thanks, how chivalrous of you, I'm sorry I got upset." Mai enjoys watching Zuko squirm, paying him back in some of the humiliation she felt at the tip of his pathetic pen. There is a part of her that loved him, when he would try to make her laugh or when he would bring her some trinket that she thought she would like. She knows that she will have to get him back, that's what Azula demands, and Azula always gets what Azula wants, but Mai isn't sure if she wants Zuko back. He was almost privy to things that she kept well hidden, even from herself.
Zuko's guilt prods at him and reminds him of why he left a note. He didn't want to have this conversation. "Mai, you never seemed that happy with me. I concluded it would best if we ended it."
"I see, well, I conclude that you are a furocing jerk," Mai states coldly.
Zuko lowers his voice. "Fine, then why are you talking to me?"
"Azula would like us to get reacquainted." Mai decides that she will be truthful; at least, that part of her narrative is something that she can control in her life.
Zuko is taken aback with Mai speaking plainly. He steps closer. "Now, why would I do anything that my sister wants?"
"Because I can be useful," Mai presses herself right next to Zuko, letting the length of her body be felt against his. "Think about it." Her eyes narrow with urgency. "Zuko, together, we can have our vision of the future."
"Vision..." Zuko shutters any moment of physical longing. Vision is an Azula word; his sister's shadow casts a pall over any feelings of misgiving that he has for leaving Mai.
Ty Lee pops up and wraps her arms around Mai's and Zuko's necks, drawing their three heads together. "Oh, I feel the love energy. It is surging and creating such a powerful combined aura."
Zuko finally catches a glimpse of his cousin and uncle. He ducks under Ty Lee's arm. "Excuse me; I must go see my uncle and Lu Ten."
Ty Lee claps her hands together. "Oh, Mai, I really hope Zuko and you get back together."
"Me, too, Ty Lee, me, too." Azula folds her arms and taps her pointed nails against her arms.
Mai watches Zuko thread his way through the crowd. She turns around slowly and heads over to Chan's box. She wishes she hadn't come to the opera, but as usual, her desires are third in her life, behind her parents and Azula's.
Lu Ten notices Zuko and weaves his way over to him. Clasping arms, the cousins greet. "Zuko, you made it."
"Lu Ten, I must speak to you." Zuko glances around at the crowd and motions with his head toward the royal box suite.
Lu Ten affirms and follows Zuko. The royal box has an inner room with private bathrooms on opposite sides. A rich brocade of red velvet and gold fringe curtains can be drawn, separating the inner sanctum and main box, which lies almost upon the stage. Baroque carvings of dragons decorate two pillars that support a cupola, topped by an elaborate crown with the Fire Lord and Imperial Emperor's symbol of three flames which are on top of the round ball, representing the four nations.
Zuko draws the curtains and rushes out. "Lu Ten, I need your help quickly."
Lu Ten saw Azula and her cohorts so he can only imagine the help Zuko needed with those packs of sea-witches. "Of course, brother, what do you need?"
"I have tried to get Lady Katara to trust me, and I have only managed to offend her." Zuko runs a hand through his hair. "Can you do that princely stuff that you do so well and help me out with her?"
"Princely stuff..." Lu Ten bites the inside of his cheek to not bust out laughing. "I could, but..."
Zuko looks crestfallen, "You could, but what?"
Lu Ten tries to assure his cousin. "I could, but it wouldn't mean anything coming from me."
"Ugh!" Zuko fumes. "I will cause an international incident at the rate I'm going."
"Zuko, I'm sure it isn't as..." Lu Ten tries to pacify, knowing Zuko tends to inflate his missteps, but Lu Ten doesn't get to finish before Zuko cuts Lu Ten off with a contradiction.
"Lady Katara demanded that I let her out at the front entrance." Zuko dares his cousin not to agree that he must have made an egregious error.
"The front entrance, you say?" Lu Ten does admit that is an odd request. "What did you exactly say to Lady Katara," Lu Ten adds in the hope of not making Zuko defensive, "for the sake of a hypothetical problem?"
Zuko shrugs and carefully reflects on his interaction in the limo-coach. "Lady Katara was upset that we were going to the back entrance. I told her that it was preferable for the likes of her and that she should stop being so impossible." Zuko isn't quite sure if those were his exact words but enough of an approximation to make it utterly obvious by him that he had been gallant and charming to Katara, and yet, she still found offense.
"You never mentioned to Lady Katara that the back entrance is, in fact, the royal entrance."
Zuko almost blasts; flames flicker from his fists. "No, because she should know!"
Lu Ten has never seen Zuko this muddled by a girl. However, if Lu Ten doesn't calm down Zuko, his cousin might burn down the whole Royal Opera House. Lu Ten puts his arm around the shoulders of Zuko. "Brother, the thing with women is to be sincere with your flattery. Women are good detectors of cow-pig shite."
Zuko nods and repeats, "Sincere with your flattery, you say, well, I can't tell Lady Katara that she fights well for obvious reasons." Zuko hits his forehead with his hand and then shrugs helplessly. He is left with the only alternative that has aided him out of most of his blunders. "I will have to go with an apology for whatever I did and hope for the best."
The door opens, and Iroh booms, "Zuko, my boy, there you are! The opera should be starting soon." Iroh ushers in Hakoda. "Zuko, Lu Ten will you please help seat my most honored guest."
Both boys bow in accordance. "Lord Hakoda, welcome."
Hakoda follows suit. "Thank you, Prince Lu Ten and Prince Zuko, I am looking forward to this opera."
Zuko steps forward, moving the curtain aside, holding it for Lu Ten and Hakoda. Lu Ten guides Hakoda to the upper tier, where three chairs sit, the middle one being a golden throne. "Please, come inside, Lord Hakoda, you'll be sitting at my father's left."
"Dad!" Katara rushes past Zuko and into her father's embrace.
"Katara," Hakoda places his cheek on her hair and hugs her to him. Sokka steps forward and father and son clasp their arms. "Son."
"We made it." Katara steps away and notices Lu Ten. She curtsies. "Prince Lu Ten, I apologize I didn't see you."
Lu Ten bows, "Lady Katara, it is quite alright. There are priorities in life, and it would seem your family has yours correct."
"And I see your father in you, Lu Ten, you are correct; family is above all things." Hakoda examines his two children with a twinkle in his eye. "It would seem that I manage to beat you two, considering I had to suss out the papers for Crown Prince Iroh. It was peculiar how they were left on my desk under a supply rationing order."
"I'm glad you found them, Dad."
"Yes, son, I am, too." Hakoda had practically torn his cabin apart searching for the contract. When he found it, he went from cursing his loins to thanking the spirits. He is convinced his children took the scenic route to the Royal Opera House. "Did you have trouble finding a carriage taxi?"
Katara speaks in a hushed voice. "Actually, Dad, we rode with Prince Zuko."
Hakoda keeps his surprise contained. "Prince Zuko?"
Zuko steps from the curtain and bows, "Yes, Lord Hakoda, I had the privilege of escorting your family and Lieutenant Aang."
Crown Prince Iroh arrives and claps Zuko on the back, pleased. "Nephew, that was very kind of you."
Aang steps forward and bows very deeply. "Your Highness, I am honored to be in your presence and at the opera."
Iroh was fascinated by airbenders and their defensive strategies. He also respected their ability to make tea. "Welcome, Lieutenant Aang, it is my honor to have a master airbender here and one that is also part of the Fire Nation's naval guard. When I was at the Eastern Air Temple, I was served the most delightful cup of ginseng and saffron tea."
Aang is taken aback for only the most faithful and holy of people are permitted at the Eastern Air Temple. There is a requirement of rigorous and intense meditation, which can last for several days. How could a warrior root in war and bloodshed be able to let go of his earthly blood lust to manage to be among the clouds?
Katara curtsies deeply to Iroh. "Thank you, your highness, for allowing a Southern Tribe opera to be featured. I feel so grateful to here tonight."
Zuko steps forward and says forcefully. "Lady Katara, you must have a front view then of the opera."
The lights flashed in the house and then dimmed. Katara chooses a seat closest to the stage and settles on the brocade cushion, feeling as if she is part of the scene. Zuko seizes the opportunity to occupy the chair right next to Katara, cutting in front of Aang.
Zuko settles down with a blunt explanation. "I'm sitting here."
"That is your right, Prince Zuko." Katara glances away and focuses upon the luxurious curtain which is hiding the stage. She wants to wither inside for her epic misunderstanding of Zuko's intentions, but she is determined to keep a cool exterior.
Aang flops next to Sokka, directly behind Prince Zuko. Aang's resentment kindles inside; he might end up being a firebender with the way his blood is boiling. Of all the ladies in the realm, Prince Zuko has to pick his Katara.
Sokka leans over to Aang. "Do you know if they serve snacks?"
"This is my first time here, too." Aang folds his arms and slumps down in his seat.
"Right, right." Sokka's stomach grumbles. He hopes there is food during the intermission. He pats his belly in shared solidarity.
The audience claps as the conductor strides in front of the orchestra pit players. The conductor raises his baton as soon as he steps on the platform, and the overture begins. Music winds from triumphant into a melancholy introduction as the curtain rises into the rafters. Tall icebergs loom on stage left and stage right; there is a backdrop of a distant ocean and icebergs, but the scene itself is a stand of real water. Appearing from behind one of the ice mountains is a carved vessel pulled by two mechanical water steed horses.
Katara gasps at the magic before her. The horses from her home could be life-like with their motions, if not that they are bronze. Katara had heard of the legend of the water horses, but they had long since been hunted to extinction or perhaps never existed. It was difficult to know fable from fact. A possible dark blot on the Southern Tribe's history doesn't cast a gloom over the glorious sight of Yue; she is driving the watery chariot. Her white-blond locks flow behind her as she sings of her love of the tides.
"I am promised to the moon and yet given an Earthly body. A mere servant of the sea, neither earth or heaven, spirits decide for me." Yue's voice is haunting and full of such promise for a dream unfulfilled.
The first act moves through the initial meeting of Yue and the Water Prince, Hahn. Yue arrives at Hahn's ice castle after he spies her driving her chariot.
"I will have her as my princess, Yue, forever mine, for all earthly time."
Yue laments that her family has agreed to the marriage. "When are my choices my own? Leave me to be the watery maid, drifting among my lover, a boundless sea with no horizon demanded of me."
The icebergs transform into a white castle of glorious light. The whole cast of singers celebrates the wedding banquet of Hahn and Yue. Each reveals their secret feelings, one pledges eternal love and the other sings of resignation to a fate not her own. Hahn takes Princess Yue's womanhood beneath the moon. Princess Yue sings to the heavens. "Were you not my lover, moon; why have you not deflowered me instead of this other?"
Yue finds a friend in La, her lady-in-waiting. Yue is moved by La's confession. She is denied by Hahn's father to marry her true love Tui, a soldier in Hahn's naval battalion. La curses, "Despised king, wretched prince, we are both consorts to tyrants' wishes!"
Yue's heart is stirred to action and love. "I wish I had your passion, sister. You have awakened me, and I feel that I can reach the heavens finally through you."
Hahn has suspected that Yue does not love him. His jealousy flares into a burning hatred. "If I can't have you for myself then you shall become part of the sea." Hahn sets Yue adrift on the ocean in a boat without oars. The curtain and music close to thunderous applause; house lights signal the start of the intermission.
Katara is overcome, crying at the sight of such wonder and beauty. She has no words to articulate the genuine ache for her home.
"Lady Katara, are you alright?" Zuko reaches in his pocket, pulling out a small handkerchief; he hands it to her.
She dabs at her eyes with starched material, resisting the urge to blow her nose. "I am overcome with longing for my home." She tries to return Zuko's handkerchief. "I apologize for my blatant expression of homesickness."
"Please, it is yours, as a token earned from the opera's first act. I'm pleased that it has exceeded your expectations." This proves correct for Zuko as well. He had been moved by the music and story, eagerly engaged with each scene. "I understand more than anyone the love one has for their home; you have nothing to apologize for."
Katara smiles shyly and steels herself for her feast of pickled crow-lynx. "Prince Zuko, I behaved abominably in your car and am full of regret over my behavior."
Zuko holds up his hand, "No, Lady Katara, it was I that was at fault. It was arrogant of me to assume your wishes outweighed my own."
Katara is trying to be gracious but has a note of reprimand to her words. "But Prince Zuko, I was rude to you when you were gracious, taking time to usher us to the opera."
Zuko's voice gets deeper with seriousness. "But Lady Katara, I shouldn't have assumed that you understood the intricacies of royal protocol. It was my overstep that resulted in such a fractious discourse."
"No, Prince Zuko, it was I who overstep in the protocol of societal ranking to think that I should speak out of turn to you, an Imperial Prince."
"No, Lady Katara..." Zuko and Katara continue their back and forth. Sokka sighs as he watches this play of who can apologize better. It is excruciating.
"Aang, is this as painful for you as it is for me?"
"More so." Aang is glowering and bolts upright, interjecting, "Lady Katara, may I have the pleasure to escort you to the reception hall?"
Katara had been in the middle of another atonement diatribe when she is snapped from her competitive remorse back and forth with Zuko. "Thank you, Aang; I would like to stretch my legs."
Zuko stands up and moves out of the way, nodding as Katara walks past him. Katara places her arm onto Aang's, who guides her up the royal box's tiers. Sokka presses his stomach to be quiet, as he follows his sister and Aang. Hakoda and Iroh had already left to partake in drinks out in the reception hall.
Lu Ten had lingered behind, in case Zuko needed assistance. Lu Ten had winced during Zuko and Katara's apology volley. He was relieved that the Airbender had interjected between the bizarre interchange. Walking next to his cousin, Lu Ten can't believe what he is about to say. "Honestly, brother, I didn't think anyone could outdo you on apologies, but Lady Katara is quite the contender."
"I know, Lady Katara is truly infuriating." Zuko's words didn't match his admiration of the fact that it was refreshing to find someone who isn't intimidated by Zuko's title or position.
The bank of windows that stretched the length of the upper-tier reception hall reveals a clear night sky. The moon was winking at Katara, calling her. The opera had entranced Katara; her chi didn't churn with the need to wield the water. Staring at the silver orb that wasn't full, yet felt more robust, Katara itches internally. She balls her hands into fists to tightly keep at bay the urge to bend.
"Katara, did you hear me?"
Katara becomes aware of the din of voices and finery surrounding her. She looks into the Airbender's questioning face. "No, Aang, I was admiring the moon. I have never seen it so full. I apologize for my poor company."
"Don't ever apologize to me." Aang rushes out. "I had asked you about flying tomorrow. I mentioned it earlier and well, I wanted..." He tries to sound enticing. "The moon will be a supermoon in two days. Have you ever seen a supermoon up close?"
"On the Southern Tundra, the land, moon, and stars are so near that the moon is usually quite full, but this moon is somehow different. It is lush with silvery light, almost as if it wants to burst and shower the whole Fire Nation with its silver dust."
Aang watches the moon's silver flecks dance in Katara's eyes. His plea is breathless with longing. "Katara, please let me take you flying. I promise you; you won't regret it."
Katara smiles at Aang. He is handsome and kind. Yet, there is a heart-warning, don't get involved. She hesitates and uses her brother as a means of protection. "Aang, I am honored you would ask me and would love to see a supermoon up close. Would Sokka come, as well?"
Aang panics over the idea of having Sokka blocking his attempts to sway Katara to like him. "No, it would be us."
Katara isn't sure about the protocol. She muses out loud. "Typically, I'm required to have an escort."
Aang doesn't want to lose this chance. "We would go as friends, of course." Aang almost groans out loud. Why did he say that?
Katara brightens over the safe and emotionally unconflicting word. "Friends, well then, that would be fine, I would need to ask Dad, but I'm sure he will say yes."
Aang wants to do air flips but keeps it contained, letting his heart do air-circles of happiness. "Yes, of course, that is only proper. I will come to you tomorrow evening then?"
"Yes," Katara claps her gloves together in anticipation; her fan on her wrist swings back and forth. "An almost supermoon, I can't wait." Katara's eyes twinkle. "By the moon, Princess Yue is surely in good spirits to shine upon me such wondrous luck tonight." Katara hopes the moon goddess goodwill would stretch further and save Sokka from Koh's clutches.
Hakoda approaches his daughter and the Airbender. The Chief's heart is full. The opera and its success is a symbol that the tides are turning for the Southern Tribe. The Crown Prince has bestowed a contract that will pay this year's tribute, giving Hakoda and the Southern Tribe another full-cycle to solve their dwindling resources. This evening is also a celebration of his family being together. He turns to the star north of the moon. Kya, my darling, you feel the joy, too. The star twinkles in response and Hakoda's heart sings. He takes Katara's hand and squeezes it. "Nothing makes me happier than to see you smile, Katara."
Sokka hands off the empty food platter to a flustered waiter. "Nothing makes me happier than a full stomach."
"Dad, this night is truly magical." Katara squeezes her father's hand back. "Thank you for making the opera happen."
A haughty viscous voice oozes arrogance. "I would have thought that Crown Prince Iroh made this opera happen, but who am I to quibble?"
Iroh is at Hakoda's side suddenly with a gentle but firm denial. "Commander Zhou, I only wish I could compose such majesty. Yue, the Moon Goddess is a master vision poetized from the remarkable and versatile, Druscilla Monteverdi. Like you, my only part lies in being privileged to watch."
"Yes, yes, yes," Zhou raises his hand to flag down a waiter. "Ember-vodka."
The waiter rushes over to the group. He bows deeply to Iroh. "Your highness, we are out of Ember-vodka. I apologize profusely. I was told your preference was tea."
Zhou glowers, "The ember-vodka was for me, you Igit-slug."
Iroh relishes Zhou being denied. The Commander's inflated sense of self is insufferable on a good day. "Tea would do well for you, Commander Zhou; it might improve your temper," Iroh speaks to the waiter. "No need to apologize, please bring Commander Zhou a Lemongrass and Gotu Kola tea. For me, I will have the variety, Jasmine and Ginseng."
Zhou detests tea but cannot anger the Crown Prince. He tries not to sound begrudgingly grateful but fails. "Thank you, your highness."
Iroh almost chuckles. There are some perks to being the Crown Prince, and one is to help those struggling to be humble. "Your welcome, Commander Zhou." He turns to the Chief and his daughter. "Lord Hakoda, Lady Katara, Sir Sokka, and Lieutenant Aang, what would you like?"
"Nothing for me, thank you." Aang had barely heard Iroh. He was caught in a whirl of thoughts of how he could share his true feelings to Katara.
"I'll have some more of those swan-duck paté sandwiches." Sokka leaves to follow the tray of passing food.
Iroh laughs heartily and pats his toned but slightly rounded belly. "I like ones with a sound appetite."
Hakoda watches his son commandeer the whole tray and then walk back to them, while he snacks on the hors d'oeuvres. "With my son, you could add-and endless appetite."
Katara doesn't think she should have spirits. It isn't for being worried about becoming inebriated; men and women in the Southern Tribe know how to handle their liquor. She did not want anything that could aid her in making a more foolish display than the one she had done in the limo-coach. It didn't help that Prince Zuko didn't let her properly apologize. Best stay with her element, and in that realm, she is comfortable. "Water, please."
Zhou drawls, "How quaint that a Southern Water tribe member would choose water, rather on the nose."
Hakoda examines the Commander before him and finds the man wanting in every area. Hakoda had been around this sort before-overcompensating an inferiority complex with an inflated ego. "Good choice, Katara, I will have water, too." The waiter nods and goes to retrieve the various drinks. Hakoda faces Zhou. "If you have been in a battle with the ocean, you will understand that water is neither simple nor easily controlled. The foolish novice doesn't recognize that water changes and evolves, and that mistake will bring about his downfall."
The waiter returns with the drinks on a tray and passes out the tumblers of water and two porcelain teacups. Iroh immediately sips on his tea. Katara takes a drink of freshwater. Hakoda watches Zhou, who is scowling at his dark concoction.
"Drink up, Commander." Iroh holds up his porcelain cup.
Zhou grimaces as he takes a quick drink, almost gagging on the tea. "It is nice," he grimaces.
Iroh is enjoying this and can't resist. "Commander Zhou, it is impolite not to finish a cup of tea."
"Of course, your highness." Zhou throws it back and almost turns green. He swallows and grins. "Until next time," Zhou bows and strides away, slamming the cup on an idle waiter's tray.
Sokka had been scanning the room for Suki. He turns to Iroh. "Your highness, how long have the Kyoshi Warriors worked for you?"
"Several years now, it was an arrangement for tribute payment." Iroh had appreciated the grace and skill of the warriors. The tiny island had little to offer except their prized warriors.
It seems the whole of Imperial City operates on the ash-pile pain of others. Katara looks away into the chest of Prince Zuko. "Prince Zuko! It is good to see you."
"Did you miss me already?"
"What?" Katara is confused and blushes. She honestly doesn't know what to say.
Sokka's mouth almost drops open. His sister is without words. Sokka seizes this opportunity, rare that it is. "Prince Zuko, I look forward to the catacombs visit tomorrow morning."
"Yes, me, as well."
This is news to Hakoda. He recovers and steps forward. "Prince Zuko, I must thank you for saving my daughter."
Katara's cheeks blush even rosier, "Dad, Prince Zuko didn't save me."
Zuko's yellow eyes stare into Katara's blue pools. "No, you are right, Lady Katara, I carried you to the Royal Infirmary, Dr. Hama saved you." Zuko is enjoying teasing; perhaps he is getting a handle on flirting.
"Yes, Dr. Hama said it merely a case of heat exhaustion." Katara feels slightly irked. With the Crown Prince Iroh and her father standing in front of her, she can't snap back that she wouldn't have needed to be carried if Prince Zuko hadn't stopped needling her.
"Uncle, Lord Hakoda, if permitted, I would like to show Lady Katara the opera sets. We have time." Lu Ten had given Zuko the suggestion. Zuko hadn't thought that would be interesting, but Lu Ten assured Zuko that it had worked with Narumi.
"It is up to Katara." Hakoda turns to his daughter. "Would you like to see the sets, Katara?"
"Yes, Dad, I would." Katara desperately wants to glimpse the mechanics and ocean water.
Jealousy flushes through Aang's chi. He wants Katara to desire to touch only him, be near him. He closes his eyes and draws inward, tampering down his desires. He can understand why jealousy is highly discouraged in the Air Nation. It is precisely why the monks practice polyamorous relationships. Jealousy can weigh you down.
Katara is oblivious to romance, which helps Sokka not having to interject brotherly protection all the time. Yet, Sokka can understand what it is like to vainly attempt in swaying a girl to pay attention. Nothing he had done had worked with Suki, until after Madame Milana's cabbage juice break. Sokka usually didn't have problems with the ladies, but Suki's resistance was charming and alluring. Sokka was tutored in Southern Water Tribe tradition that women will never feel helpless. It was why Sokka had trained Katara; no sister of his would ever feel weak or scared. Suki showed with that crowd and, in a way, with warding off Sokka's flirting attempts that she could hold her own. Sokka liked women who could hold their own.
Sokka leans over to Aang to offer an insider tip. "Katara won't go for a royal jerk, trust me."
Aang desperately wants to believe Sokka. "I hope you're right. I don't know how I can hope to compete with royalty."
Zuko holds out his arm. Katara places it on top, and together they head away from the double staircase.
"But shouldn't we..." Katara stops herself.
Zuko supplies the reason, not wanting a repeated misunderstanding. "We will take the back elevator. It is typically for the waiters and staff, but directly opens at the orchestra pit and the side stage entrance."
Zuko and Katara enter the elevator of bronze. Zuko pushes a button, and the elevator quickly rushes down. Katara reaches out to brace herself and instinctly grips onto Zuko's arm. He looks down at her hand.
"I lost my balance." Katara feels herself adjusting to the speed and slowly lifts her hand away.
Zuko can still feel Katara's grip even though she is no longer holding on his arm. "The elevator's speed helps aid the waiters and staff for efficiency."
Katara runs her glove along the decorative bronze interior. "Everything at The Royal Opera House is a modern marvel; attention is given to the smallest of details. We live simply now on the tundra. This much opulence rarely surrounds me."
Zuko recognizes Imperial City as a thing beauty, but beneath the luxurious surface is a twisted darkness. "The Royal Opera House was one of my Grandfather's first cultural projects after being crowned Imperial Emperor."
"Long live the Fire Lord," Katara says quietly. She looks down at her hands and reminds herself don't let her guard down with Zuko.
Zuko steps forward, "Lady Katara..." He wants to be honest with her, and yet he can't, or everything he has worked for will be destroyed. The door of the elevator slides open with a loud ding. Zuko says instead. "We've arrived."
Katara and Zuko step out; a side curtain obscures the theater. Zuko opens the door in front of them. He takes her hand, and they move up the stairs. The wooden stage overhang has a tank of water, dyed blue. Katara reaches over to touch the liquid and tingles.
"How can it be?" Katara looks up into Zuko's face with radiant eyes. "I had thought the water looked real from above but assumed that it was theatrical tricks, but here I am touching real water." She flicks her fingers which send ripples. She laughs. "Real water on a stage, how can you not be amazed?"
Zuko hadn't thought about it until that moment that it is a remarkable sight. He reaches down and fingers the water. "You are right; it is as you have said before, a true marvel."
Katara couldn't believe all the sets. The icebergs were even more immense up close. She craned her neck and could see other backdrops hanging in the rafters. A man hops from a wire high-platform and slides down a rope. Katara can see a piece of straw is in his mouth; a light shines upon him, lighting his descent.
Jumping the final feet to the ground, he lands in front of Katara. His hair is wild, and he has an air of confidence about him. "Hello." He bows. "Prince Zuko, what an honor."
Katara felt wordless. She tries to formulate something that would be witty and intelligent, but the only thing that comes out is a dry, "hello."
"May I present myself; I am Jett, the master of the stage and props."
"I'm Katara." There was this magical quality that took over with a sense of impending delight.
"Jett, I hope we haven't disturbed you," Zuko says darkly. He's met this type before, all bragging and bravado.
"Not at all, we are humble servants to your theater, your highness; we are at your disposal to entertain and delight." Jett leans against the side of the stage, staring at Katara.
"It's my Grandfather's theater." Zuko doesn't like Jett.
Jett ignores the Prince and directs his question to the lady in front of him. "Lady Katara, how are you finding the show?"
"I adore it." Katara moves closer; her eyes dancing. "Please tell everyone that it is the most wonderful production. They all honor Princess Yue with their performances."
Jett leans closer. "You could tell them yourself."
Zuko interjects, "Lady Katara; we should probably get back. The intermission will be ending."
Katara is breathless and nods. "I'm sorry, Jett; we must go. I don't want to miss the second Act."
Jett grins with the straw in his mouth. "No, you don't, Lady Katara." His eyes rake down Katara's form.
Katara blushes and casts her eyes down. The door of the elevator opens, and Zuko takes Katara's hand, who stumbles backward. She flips open her fan, waving it in front of her flushed face. She isn't aware of Zuko brooding next to her. When the elevator returns to the upper tier, the doors open; the reception hall is empty except for Azula and her cohorts. Azula, Mai, and Ty Lee approach the elevator, blocking the exit.
Katara groans inwardly, great; I was hoping to avoid this sniping curoxy. Katara can feel the tension, especially what is radiating from Zuko. "Pardon," Katara pushes her way out of the elevator, almost shoving into Azula.
Azula keeps her ground. "Oh dear, did I catch you two in a bit of an illicit encounter?" She pouts as Zuko. "Oh brother, please say, you showed more courtesy than taking Lady Katara out in the alley for clandestine coitus."
Zuko thunders, "Azula!"
Katara takes Zuko's hand. She doesn't care a wit what Azula thinks. "A true lady never tells."
Zuko's good cheek burns. He squeezes Katara's hand for thanks. "Azula, get out of our way." He shoves his sister aside. Zuko and Katara exit the elevator.
Azula will not be silenced with such an action. She calls out. "Lady Katara, I hope you didn't ruin your outfit with mucking about in the alley. Considering you are wearing a piece of off-the-rack trash from Lady Mim's Dress Shop, it is hard to tell."
Katara knows that is supposed to be an insult, but she doesn't care. She adores her dress. Gran Gran's voice bolsters her confidence to say nothing. It is better to leave than respond, dear one. Zuko marvels that Katara didn't even pause.
"Zuzu, you consort with the most interesting of friends; don't you think so, Mai?"
Mai hurries up and clasps Zuko's arm, stopping him. "Zuko, can we talk?" She glances at Katara. "alone."
"No, I'm with Lady Katara." Zuko drops Katara's hand to remove Mai's. He steps away and holds up his arm; Katara places her arm on his. Together, they enter the royal box.
When the door closes, Zuko tries to apologize for his sister's abominable behavior. "What my sister inferred was uncalled for; I will make sure no one gossips about you."
"You don't like people to gossip about you, do you?
"No one does." Zuko hisses with pain and the humiliation he had been dealt with by gossip. "I don't like people believing lies." He calms his chi. "Besides, it is a royal protocol that we ignore the press and avoid being gossip column fodder. It was one of the reasons I didn't want you to go to the front entrance."
Katara knows that no one she cares about would ever believe Princess Azula's lies; in fact, her whole family will have at a laugh at Azula's expense. "Prince Zuko, the people that I love and care about me know me and my morals. Those that will believe Azula aren't worth my time or energy." The lights flash. Katara adds shyly. "Thank you for showing me the backstage, I enjoyed it very much."
Zuko believes what Katara says that she honestly doesn't care about other's opinions. She is like her sister with confidence and yet, Katara is so different and so much better. His voice is low as he takes Katara's palm and raises it to his lips, kissing the back of her glove. "Thank you, Lady Katara, your company, is always illuminating."
Katara's heart beats faster, and her cheeks glow. "You're welcome, Prince Zuko."
Zuko help leads Katara back to her seat. Iroh spies Zuko and calls out. "Nephew."
Zuko indicates for Katara to continue. "Yes, Uncle."
Iroh leans over and whispers in Zuko's good ear. "Before the close of the last act, it would be wise to get a head start. Don't you think?"
Zuko bows, "Yes, of course, Uncle." He leaves to join Katara.
Hakoda has waited for the right opportunity to present the document, but there hasn't been a chance. It is now or else risk a slipped chance at saving his son. "Your highness, I have all the required paperwork ready." Hakoda pats his breast pocket.
"Good, good, we will sign it after the opera, a symbolic gesture of a historic evening between the Southern Water Tribe and the Fire Nation; do you not think?"
Hakoda reminds himself that saving your son isn't begging. "Yes, thank you, we are indebted to you."
"No, you are providing me with something more, trust me."
Hakoda claps as the conductor returns to his platform and begins the music. The curtain rises and reveals a figure in a long veil floating in a battered vessel. The tinkling of strings conjures the sound of the wind whispering across the icy tundra stage. The whole theater becomes alight with a million little specks of light.
Katara touches one, and it vanishes. Princess Yue sings of her death, but that she died when she was separated from La. "Twin souls on an Earthly plane, she completes me as I complete her."
The scene changes to the blank tundra. La alerts Tui of Princess Yue's punishment. In fear that Tui won't help her, La swears to her honor, but Tui stops her. "You need not explain to me, we endlessly circle each other for all eternity, never to be parted, never to be doubted."
Hahn receives a warning that La and Tui have rescued Princess Yue. He gathers his battalion to arrest La and Tui. On the tundra plane, Yue rejoices in La's embrace, musing on a life of happiness before her. When Hahn arrives with his soldiers, he accuses La of being a traitor. La protests her innocence.
Threatened with torture unless La names her accomplices, she chooses death. "You cannot tear from me a name at the expense of my honor and love."
Tui decides to protect La by confessing his guilt. Hahn is furious, and in his anger, he strikes down La with his blade.
Hahn walks toward the stricken Yue, "No delay, no obstacle can come between us now. You will be mine!"
Yue rises in anger, "By the moon, your blood will coat the night." She takes the blade that cut down La and drives it into Hahn.
Hahn falls back and gasps his final farewell aria. "I did not know how to love freely and for that may the circle not be broken. May it not be too late for me or for all of us?"
A whole chorus weeps for the push and pull of love and gathers around the fallen La. Yue drops the sword and moves toward her true love.
Yue rests her head against La's heart and sings of the moments lost between them. Reaching for Tui's hand, she blesses him. Together, Tui and Yue sing a duet of the divine power of love that sees no barriers and where the veil of death will not render love asunder. The whole town rises in a brief eulogy that fills the theater with sadness and loss of hope. Yue looks to the moon and sings, "By the moon, I gaze at you; I possess you." She reaches down and kisses La on the lips and collapses.
La wakes up and is embraced by Tui. Yue is now dressed in a brilliant, white gown and slowly rises to be in front of the moon. The whole chorus rejoices through their tears. "We sing of hope, by the moon, we love you, Princess Yue, our eternal moon goddess forevermore." The curtain falls, and the opera ends.
The whole audience jumps to their feet. Katara dabs at her eyes with Zuko's handkerchief. She looks to her left and sees that he is gone.
One by one, there are a million little particles of light floating around the theater. Katara is mesmerized and steps forward, forgetting she is in a box. Aang reaches out to grab her arm. He breathes in Katara's scent of flowers and seafoam. "These are dragonflies, it is a rare fete for a firebender to manage. They are bewitching, be careful."
The curtain rises again, and the stage is full of a whole crew. The audience erupts into thunderous applause, shouting out appreciation to the cast of singers.
Suddenly, there is an explosion and a fine mist rains down upon the whole audience. Everyone gasps in delight and wonder, clapping their amazement. Then, the theater goes dark. A hush falls over the audience in anticipation that there might be an encore aria. A bright light blinds everyone and fog oozes from the stage in deep drifts.
A Blue Spirit lands on the stage. His blue and white mask grin as his low voice shouts. "No more to the tyranny! Down with the Imperial scum, freedom for the workers! United, we will topple this corrupt regime and for once create a place for all to succeed, not a select few."
All at once, there are screams as Katara sees people collapsing on the lower floors. A rush to the doors and the frantic pushing before people topple onto each other, passing out. The demon spies Katara and leaps up to the royal box. Katara backs up. Wrapping his hand around Katara's back, the Blue Spirit pulls her close.
Katara can feel the Blue Spirits lean body pressed next to hers. She gasps, "What are you doing?"
The voice comes out raspy and distorted, "Just evening the playing field." He blows dust in her face, and she collapses in his arms.
Katara finds herself within a dark voidless place. There is a chill to the vast empty black plane, a cold unlike any felt in the tundra. It pierces her heart and leaks out any hope for escape. A hum that develops into a gentle thrumming runs along her senses, covering her in its stroking vibrations. Katara's eyes try to pierce the blackness but can't find a way to the light. The hum transfers into a liquid murmur, promising her, receive your true desire. Katara whispers back, what desire? The answer reverberates around her, power! She recoils, No!
Katara breaks free and runs. The faster she runs, the more expansive the black void becomes. The music begins again, enticing her to slow down until Katara finally stops. Invisible hands caress off Katara's clothes. One by one item falls away until she is naked.
The murmur of liquid sound urges Katara to turn around, and she stands before a pool of dark water. Its surface is mirroring Katara's curious face. She kneels, hypnotized by the sound around her. She sees herself floating beneath the surface and can feel the water calling her. Come, come into me. Katara reaches her hand out and touches the water glass.
The dark reflecting pool reaches up and wraps its watery arms around Katara, drawing her beneath the surface. The water is warm as Katara whirls around in its embrace. It strokes her senses until all her nerves are going from a tingle to an intense burning. It runs over her breasts and around her nipples, circling each aureole till they are pert. It snakes down her body and over her buttocks. She is spinning in the water in a whirl of emotions that make her ache for fulfillment.
Katara finds herself pushed upright. Rising straight out of the water, she stands on its silvery surface. Stepping behind her is a presence; she feels the whole of its body against her. The hard planes curve into her soft ones. The prod of the ugani that is rigid with insistence as it searches. Katara leans into the chest and drops her head back, exposing her neck. A long tongue darts out and runs along her exposed neck down to her collar bone. A hand reaches around to fondle her breast as another hand drifts down to her womanly slit. It slickly runs over her spot, circling endlessly before stroking the round tip. Katara can feel a tension building but not a release. The hand moves faster, as the tongue runs around her nipples, making her ache with desire. Katara pushes her buttocks against the hard ugani that throbs against her. Thrusting against the hand and the ugani, she quickens her pace to hurry the crescendo. Finally, the hand plunges inside her, while moving simultaneously against her slit culminating into a fusion of passion and release.
"Katara! Wake up!"
The void dream world explodes into a million black shards. Katara gasps into a sitting position. She blinks and sees that she is on the floor of the royal box. The whole opera house is buzzing with chaos.
"Sokka?"
"Katara, we have been robbed!"
"What?" Katara's hand goes to her throat. She searches and realizes her necklace is gone. "Mother's necklace has been taken!" She starts to cry for the beloved stolen item, the last reminder of her mother, but her tears are also for the dreamless void that she hadn't ever wanted to leave.
A/N: Well...what ya think? It was a whirl-wind, huh :) I found myself understanding Mai's character better while writing her. Oh, my traitorous heart, but honestly, Aang is swaying me. I'm going to try to resist, Zutarians, but come on, he is such a sweet-trying, lover-boy. But that opera, oh how I love it so; the danger of all writers is getting caught up in their bunny plots. I went down the opera hole, but well, I wanted to explain what happened with Princess Yue and how she fits in my story. I honestly cry EVERY time I read that opera. I could do another side story of just Princess Yue. She is such a hero. Love is love and wanted to honor that, too.
Author Plea: Dear Readers, please, oh please, keep the reviews, follows, and favorites coming. They help me so much. It is my only way of tangibly connecting with you. Thank YOU :)
