Part 2 Chapter 4: Back Where They Began

It had been noon when Katara had left Song's village, hitching a ride on Jing's wagon. The man had even been kind enough to give her his spare map, which she had marked with her location. Within hours, she had been dropped off in a new village, where she had thanked Jing for his help, and waved goodbye.

Katara had spent the couple weeks travelling from village to village, using the map to track her progress towards Omashu. The first day or so went smoothly, but Katara quickly became aware of a serious problem: she had no money. It wasn't much of an issue immediately; she still had some of the supplies given to her, Zuko, and Iroh by Song and her mother. She had roughly half of the supplies, and since she wasn't sharing them with anybody, they lasted a little bit longer. When she was thinking of this, her thoughts once again drifted to the two Fire Nation royals. Thinking of Zuko, she felt angry, and would occasionally find herself being spiteful. I hope he gets lost, she would think, I hope he starves to death. That's just karma after you steal from those who gave you food. But Katara would immediately regret it. After all, of all the things Zuko had done, stealing an ostrich-horse would hardly be the thing he'd die for. And then there was Iroh, who Katara found she genuinely missed. The old general was kind and thoughtful, and despite the fact that they were bound by misfortune, he had always managed to make Katara see a bright side. Thinking of him, she hoped that he was okay. Even Zuko−one child was more than enough for Iroh to lose. All of these thoughts would inevitably lead to her irritation with Zuko again. Just go and get yourself killed, why don't you? It's not like your uncle would miss you or anything!

Katara would shake herself out of these thoughts, reminding herself that there were much more important matters at hand. The most imminent of her problems was the money situation. It certainly wasn't the first time she'd been in this situation. She and Sokka, after all, had grown up in the South Pole. And the South Pole, though it was home, was hardly overflowing with riches. When she and Sokka left to go after Aang, they'd quickly thrown together the most basic needs, but money had been not on their minds. They brought what they could spare, but that turned out to be little. Katara remembered the first time they had gone shopping. It had been rather baffling experience for her and Sokka; even the most basic of items had seemed so expensive. She had quickly taken charge of the money situation, learning that Sokka and Aang both had a tendency to buy things before thinking it through. She tended to buy only what was needed. Sokka and Aang had pitched in in their own ways. Sokka would go hunting or fishing to find any meat or fish. Aang, of course, didn't eat meat, so Katara would cook whatever Sokka caught separately, adding it only to Sokka and her own bowls. Aang, in turn, would find other things to eat. He had, after all, travelled world a lot before he'd been frozen. He was familiar with a considerable amount of plants, and when able, would point out edible ones. Even still, they had occasionally run out of money on their way to the North Pole.

On these occasions, they would stop by a town, and take up small jobs. For a day, for two. Just to get enough money that they could get anything they needed to get a little further in their journey. And that was exactly what Katara had done over the past several days. She'd come into a new town each day, and find somewhere she could be of service. First, she had looked after a family's large gaggle of children. She had, on another day, healed a group of injured soldiers. Some gave her decent money, others gave her a single copper piece. She didn't complain about any of them, though after one person gave her only two copper pieces after she had looked after their obnoxious toddler all day, she had felt like screaming. That day had felt like a waste.

Still, she was able to get by, and on several of the days she had managed to convince somebody to give her a lift to the next town on the trail to Omashu. She still had a long way to go, and every time she marked on the map, she felt a mixture of excitement and disappointment. Disappointment because Omashu was still a long way off. But excitement because, slow as it was going, she was getting nearer and nearer to the city. To Aang and Sokka. I can't wait to see them, she thought, smiling to herself. She readjusted herself in the wagon she'd hitched a ride on. It was nighttime, and she'd been working for the wagon's owner during the day. It had been exhausting manual labor, but it paid off. He gave her the ride as payment, and that probably staved at least some time off.

She slept as they passed through a small village, and through the rest of the night.

"Are you awake, miss?" the man knocked on the wagon. Katara blinked as she opened her eyes. She nodded, sitting up and pushing herself out of the wagon. She smiled, looking to the man.

"Thanks again for helping me," she said, giving him a small bow. He shook his head.

"It's the least I can do. You were a tremendous help yesterday," he told her. "And I know my farm wasn't exactly a clean job." He looked down to her robes, which were now browned at the bottom. "Still, I've needed help on it for some time. Couldn't afford to pay anyone decently, but then you come along and settle for a ride to towns over." He smiled. "Good luck, Katara, I hope you find those friends of yours. And be careful−the roads aren't always safe for a young lady such as yourself."

"Goodbye, Chun."

Katara entered the new town, looking around it. It was larger than most of the others Katara had passed through over the week. Katara walked over a bridge over a small stream. She stopped for a moment to take in the view. It was nice; it was sunrise, with reds and purples in the sky. If she looked one direction, she could still see the moon on the horizon, going down for another day. The village was surrounded by hills, and with the stream making a slight noise as the water flowed by, it made for a beautiful, peaceful scene.

Crossing over the bridge, she walked into the village. She explored a little, and bought one apple. It made for a good enough breakfast as she looked for anyone needing any service. She looked into the small moneybag she had bought. Five silver, three copper. It wasn't the worst she'd dealt with, but if she would have to find some work, for either a little pay or a free ride.

She had only turned a corner and walked two steps before stopping with a gasp. It can't be!

But it was.

There they were, just like they had been when she'd left them a couple weeks ago. Zuko and Iroh, sitting beside the street, backs against the stolen ostrich-horse. Iroh had his hat out, turned upside down to be used as a bag as he asked for money. Zuko sat to his right, hat on, casting a shadow over his face. He was sulking, again, as his uncle patiently waited for somebody to give them any spare coins they had.

Katara stood frozen for a moment, gaping at her two former companions. She didn't notice her cheeks turning red as she tried to figure out what to do. Should she ignore them? Say hello? Perhaps she should go and slap Zuko, start a new argument. She could go and gloat how she was doing well, without their help, or stealing. Then again, her moneybag wasn't exactly overflowing.

Before she could decide, Iroh turned, nearly looking right at her. With a gasp, Katara quickly fled into a shop, flinging the door open so hard it nearly hit the wall inside the shop. She stayed beside the doorway for a minute, hoping that Iroh wouldn't come in to say hello to her.

I don't want to talk to them, she decided. After weeks in their company, she had only just gotten away from them. Away from their conversations and arguments. Away from Iroh, who she could hardly call an enemy at this point. Away from Zuko, who she had nearly considered a friend…

But friends don't leave each other; they don't disregard your opinion and leave you behind. We aren't friends. And I don't want to talk them again. She breathed a sigh of relief; it seemed that Iroh hadn't seen her. Or perhaps he had simply decided not to bother her.

"Excuse me?" came a somewhat tired tone. Katara looked over to see the shopkeeper looking at her. The shopkeeper was an old man, wrinkles dotting his face. His hair was only a few shades away from being white, and was pulled back into a braid. He sat behind a table, a cane resting just behind him. He had an eyebrow raised as he observed Katara. "Are you here for something? Because, if you aren't here to buy something, then I would appreciate it if you wouldn't stand in front of the door."

"Sorry," Katara apologized, stepping away from the door. She looked around the shop. There was nothing there she needed, but the shop was dusty and looking down she could see dirt on the floor. It was also sort of disorganized, she noted. "Actually, maybe I could help you. See…it's a long story, but I got separated from my friends a few weeks back. I've been travelling from town to town to try to get back to them, but I need money. So, if you could spare a few coins, I'd be happy to help clean up your shop for you, or anything else you need." She put on her friendliest smile.

The man rubbed his chin, thinking it over. "My shop does need cleaning, doesn't it? My knees cry when I so much as stand these days, my right worse than my left. To say nothing of other parts…and nobody has been around to clean my shop since my grandson left to fight in the war." The old man nodded. "You've got a deal, young one." He pointed to a door to his left. "Cleaning supplies are in there. Perhaps you could start by dusting…the dust makes some people sneeze."

Katara quickly set herself to it, and she put her effort into it. True to what the man said, she found herself sneezing as she dusted the shelves of products.

It was dull, mindless work, but it served its purpose. She would get money, and better yet, she was inside, away from Zuko and Iroh. It would have been an awkward encounter. And, frankly, she felt certain that she and Zuko would end up fighting again.

And it didn't matter, she decided as she began sweeping the floor. A least they weren't after Aang anymore, and that was what mattered. They were on their way to Ba Sing Se, and she was on her way to Omashu. So they both ended up in this town. It didn't mean anything. They would separate again, and she wouldn't see them again. Ever.

And that didn't bother her, she told herself as she organized the shop's products. She ignored how she had, admittedly, felt relieved when she first saw them. At least they hadn't gotten themselves killed. A miracle, she decided. "Such an idiot," she muttered, thinking of Zuko.

She heard a snort, and she turned to look at the shopkeeper, who was looking amused. "Do I want to know who you're talking about?" He raised his hands placatingly. "Or you don't have to tell me anything. Perhaps I've grown nosy without my family here to keep me company. Still, if you need an ear, feel free to say what you wish."

She raised her eyebrow as she resumed her work. After a few moments she responded. "There's this boy I know. He's a complete idiot." She felt a little guilty for actually saying that, for some reason. "I mean, I don't know what's going on in that head of his sometimes. He's really frustrating."

"Hmm," the old shopkeeper acknowledged. "Have you known him long?"

"Too long," Katara muttered. "He really…I kind of hated him, for a while. But then he saved my life. After I got separated from my friends, like I told you." The man nodded, stroking his long goatee.

"And after he saved you, you reevaluated your feelings for him?"

"Not at first. But we were sort of stuck together, surviving together, and after a while…yeah, I suppose I did reevaluate my feelings." I actually kind of cared for him.

"But now he's done something to make you mad?" the man concluded.

Katara gave a bark of laughter. "You know, he was always making me mad. You should see him sometime. It's like he can't make up his mind about anything. The moment I think I have him figured out, he goes and rips my image of him to shreds." She scowled, and quickly put the fancy vase down. Her grip was too hard, and she didn't want to break it. "He drives me crazy," she admitted. "I never thought I could trust him, but I did. I thought I could, even though I knew I shouldn't. And then he turned around and proved me wrong. Again."

Finished with organizing the shop, she stopped, and put her hands on her hips.

"You spent a considerable amount of time with this boy," the man noted.

"Nearly a whole month," Katara confirmed.

"That's an awful lot of time to spend with somebody you don't like," he told her, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, I don't," she snapped, and then she winced. "Sorry, I shouldn't have snapped like that." The old man raised his hand, shaking his head.

"I'm used to it. I remember when my daughter was your age." The old man smiled lightly, distantly, before resuming. "I take it you've separated from this boy, then?"

Katara nodded. "Just a couple weeks ago." She frowned. It was nice to speak her mind unhindered, but how much could she share with this man? Certainly not Zuko's true identity. "He did something really stupid. Like, illegal stupid. So we split. I didn't think I'd see him again. I didn't want to see him again. But I did. Right before I came in here."

The old man made an understanding sound. "So that's why you flung the door open so wildly. You came in here to avoid your boy."

Katara let out an embarrassed sigh. "Yeah. I don't want to talk to him. Ever." It was quiet for a moment before the old man began to laugh, shaking his head. Katara began to feel a bit indignant as he laughed. "What's so funny?"

The man shook his head, chuckles dying down. "I mean no offense," the man told her. "It is only that this conversation reminds me of another I once had, many years ago." For a moment, the old man was not in the shop, but elsewhere, long ago. A small smile appeared as he refocused on Katara. "My daughter knew someone who tested her patience, much like this…friend of yours."

Katara blinked. "Really?"

"Mmmhmm. He really drove her crazy. He was rude and arrogant. And then our village was attacked. My daughter was knocked unconscious, and was trapped in a burning building. She would have died…but her boy went into the fire, and saved her, injuring himself in the process. When she woke up, she was shocked to learn who her savior was. But she was grateful, and she stayed by his side as he slowly healed. She got to know him. Like you got to know your friend."

Katara looked down. "He did save me," she acknowledged. "But he's still…" Zuko. "He's a jerk." Close enough. "And I'm not sure I'd call him a friend. Thing between us are just too…" Complicated, to put it mildly.

The old man laughed. "So he isn't your friend?"

"That's what I just said." Katara rearranged some of the items.

"And you don't care about him, then?"

Katara scowled. "Well, I…it's complicated." You care? About me?

The old man looked almost amused. "It's a yes or no question. But I think you've already answered it—if you didn't care about him, why have you spent this time talking about him?"

Her jaw dropped. "That not…no." She shook her head, letting out a groan. "Fine. Fine, I do care about him. Sort of. But we aren't friends. That's just not possible. It would never work out between us."

"Hm. Or perhaps you've only convinced yourself of that because avoiding him is easier than confronting your connection with him."

Katara put the plate she was holding down, glaring at the man. "Excuse me?"

The old man just shrugged. "You've already admitted that you care about him. The fact that his actions upset you clearly show that you've grown to care for him, despite your history." He smiled for a moment. "Sometimes it's easier to run away from our feeling when they are complicated. To avoid relationships when we can't know how they will end. But every love…every friendship is a treasure. And that treasure can come from the most unexpected of places." The old man blinked. "My daughter never expected what she found with her old rival. But, in the end, they were both all the happier for it."

Katara frowned, looking down at her feet. "You don't understand just how complicated it is between us. There's so much between us—why should I drive myself crazy trying to work with him? He doesn't even seem to appreciate any help offered." Busying herself, she grabbed a broom and began sweeping the floor, stopping occasionally as she and the old man spoke.

The old man leaned back in his chair, chuckling. "Well, you don't have to do anything you don't want to. But you need to consider whether you are really willing to let go of what you've formed with him. Only you can decide whether you wish to continue avoiding him, or to confront him and see where this fledgling connection goes."

Katara blinked, looking to the side for a moment. "It's not the same," she said quietly. "Whatever happened between your daughter and this friend of hers, it doesn't mean anything for us." They were divided by the war. She crossed her arms. "So…it all turned out okay, then? For your daughter and her friend?"

"Very happily," the old man confirmed. He smiled sadly. "They were married for nearly thirty years. Death ended the relationship. My daughter…she was not so lucky last year, when the Fire Nation attacked again. And her husband died beside her."

Katara blinked. "Oh. I'm sorry." Married?

"It is truly painful to live past one's children," the shopkeeper said. "And their son went to war afterwards. Hopefully, he will live to see me buried, see the end of this war, see his own children marry and have children."

Katara smiled sadly. "If it means anything to you, the Avatar has returned. I believe that he can save the world."

The shopkeeper nodded. "I hope I live to see that. It would be nice to die knowing that there will be peace in the world. And I hope you and your friend find some peace as well."

Katara frowned. Not likely. She couldn't exactly explain everything that had happened between her and Zuko. After all, she couldn't tell anyone that a pair of Fire Nation royals was hiding in town.

"We'll see," she muttered, putting away the broom and duster, looking over the shop again. "Is there anything else you need?"

"That's plenty for now," the man said. He sat up, smiling. "Thank you." He reached into his own coin bag, pulling out a gold piece. "Here."

Katara's eyes were wide. "A gold piece?" Nobody had given her that much. "That's too much!"

He raised an eyebrow. "I'm giving you a gold piece, and you're saying no?" He sounded incredulous.

"It wasn't that much work," Katara said.

"It was more than this shop has seen in months. Take the coin, and go find your friends." Katara hesitated, but she smiled as she took it.

"Thank you so much."

"Just be careful. And don't forget what I've told you."

Katara left the shop, in a better mood than she'd been when she'd entered it. It had been a few hours since she'd entered. Perhaps Iroh and Zuko had left? If they had, would it even be a relief, or a disappointment?

But no, they were still there.

And, it seemed they had found some trouble. Of course they had.

Iroh was singing loudly, hopping his feet frantically as a man swung a pair of swords at them. The man with the swords was laughing mockingly. "What do you think you're doing?!" Katara shouted at the man. She quickly found a bucket of water, drawing from it and performing a water whip, whacking the brown-haired man on the head. "Leave him alone!" She had half-ran to the Iroh and Zuko, glaring at the man.

"And who do you think you are, to tell me what to do?" He took a step towards her, swords still drawn. She didn't back down. "And what do you care?"

Zuko stood up now, glaring at the man as fiercely as Katara. "Leave her alone!" His fists were balled. The man looked back towards him.

"She's certainly got spunk. I actually sort of like it." The man ignored Zuko, looking back to Katara. She narrowed her eyes as she realized what parts of her he was looking at. "Maybe she'd like that gold piece. All I'd like is a bit of entertainment."

Katara's face turned red as she understood what the man was implying. "Get out of here!" she spat. She summoned more water. "And be glad I don't drown you in the street!"

"No need to be so unreasonable," the man said in a falsely reassuring tone. "But you also look like you could use a coin or two…"

"She said no," Zuko growled. His fists were smoking, and Katara knew he was barely refraining from literally breathing fire.

It was not a good situation.

Iroh, as usual, was the one to sort it all out.

"I am sorry, young man," Iroh said to the man with the swords. "But it seems we won't be needing your coin. And miss Katara," he added, steel entering his eyes, "will not be selling herself."

With the three of them standing against him, and a new crowd of onlookers pointing and whispering in the street, the man shrugged. "Suit yourself. But you won't be getting that gold piece." Katara put the water back where it had come from, glaring at the man as he walked away.

"Katara?" Zuko said her name. She turned around to look at him. He looked much the same he had as the last time she'd seen him. It had, after all, been only a couple weeks. His hair looked a little bit longer. Katara immediately thought of how he'd reacted a few moments ago, nearly firebending, and remembered their last encounter. At once, she glared at him.

"I didn't need your help!" she snapped at him. "I had it under control!"

Zuko's eyes widened as she shouted, apparently surprised by her fury. Then, his eyes narrowed. "Well we didn't need your help!" he fired back. "We were doing fine until you showed up!"

"Fine?" she retorted. "You call your uncle jumping up and down to avoid swords swiping his feet 'fine'?"

"It really wasn't that bad," Iroh told them. Katara and Zuko both turned to glare at him for a moment before turning back to each other.

"This is what I get for helping you. No thanks and plenty of blame!"

Zuko growled, balling his fists again. "You're the one who started this fight! Not me!" He threw his hands up, before walking away, muttering. Katara just watched, arms folded as he stalked off, away from her and Iroh.

"Katara?" Iroh's voice was gentler, and she turned to look at him.

"Hey, Ir-Mushi," she corrected. "Are you okay?"

He nodded, smiling. "I'm fine, thank you. It wasn't so bad, I've certainly encountered worse. Still, what the man said to you was entirely inappropriate." For a moment, Iroh's eyes darkened, a disapproving frown on his lips.

Katara nodded, suppressing a shiver. "I know there's people out there like that. My brother warned me…a lot, actually. Still, I think this is the first time anyone like that has paid me any attention." It wasn't a good feeling. It felt slimy and degrading.

"I'm sorry this happened," Iroh told her. He smiled. "Although, it is nice to see you again, Katara."

She smiled. "It is nice to see you, too," she admitted. "Even if Zuko is as much of a jerk as ever."

"After what happened at Song's home, I feared that you could be in trouble for what we did. I'm glad to see that you are alright."

"Lucky for me," Katara said, a bit of bitterness in her voice. "Song saw the whole thing. She vouched for me, and her mother was way too kind." Katara and Iroh sat down beside the stolen ostrich-horse. "She helped me find someone willing to give me a ride on their wagon to the next town. I've been working a few small jobs for coins and rides for the past couple weeks." She frowned. "I couldn't believe it when I saw you guys. I honestly didn't think I'd ever see you again."

"Destiny is a funny thing," Iroh told her, smiling.

"You think it's destiny that brought us together?" Katara sounded doubtful, and yet…when she thought about it, it did seem miraculous that she kept being brought onto the same path as Zuko and Iroh. Every time she thought they would separate, something would happen to bring them back together. "Or maybe Ba Sing Se and Omashu just take the same roads from where we were at."

Iroh froze for a moment, turning to look at her incredulously. "Omashu? Did you say Omashu?"

Katara froze for a moment, before remembering that they weren't after Aang anymore−or were they? Iroh had previously said that they weren't, but would they be able to get back into the Fire Lord's good graces if they captured Aang? "It's where I was going." She looked down to her lap.

"Is that where the Avatar was going?" Iroh looked stressed.

Katara looked over. "What do you care? You and Zuko aren't after him anymore, right?" she whispered.

Iroh leaned back, shaking his head. "We are not. But if your friends have gone to Omashu, then they have walked into danger."

"What do you mean?" Katara felt dread. Something was wrong, she knew it…

"Omashu has been conquered," Iroh told her grimly. Katara's eyes widened and she felt a little numb. "Word of it has only just reached this town today. If your friends were heading there, then they would have reached a new Fire Nation stronghold, full of soldiers."

Katara looked to her hands. They were trembling. "That…is where they were going. King Bumi was Aang's friend…he was gonna be his earthbending master." There was no point in keeping it secret now. It had been the plan before, but now…she clenched her fist. "What if they're in trouble? What if they got caught?"

Iroh laid a hand on her knee. "If we've learned anything from experience, it's that your friends are resourceful and quite elusive. We have heard that Omashu fell, but nothing has been heard about the Avatar being captured, or worse." He offered Katara a reassuring smile. "Your friends may not be safe in Omashu, but I believe that your friends are alright."

Katara nodded. She hoped that was true.

But now she was lost again. She had planned to meet with Aang and Sokka in Omashu, that plan was now impossible. They wouldn't be in Omashu, she figured. They weren't stupid. Once they knew Omashu was conquered, they would have left. But to where? Aang needed an earthbending master, but where would he go? She didn't know.

She didn't know where to go.

At once, Katara's throat hurt and she bit back a sob. She pulled her knees forward, burying her face. She could feel Iroh's hand on her back, and hear him saying words of comfort. It didn't help much.

She wanted Sokka.

She wanted Aang.

She wanted her family.

Her crying session lasted a few minutes, and Zuko didn't come back during that time. She was thankful, she didn't think she could stand to get into another argument at the moment. Not right then.

"What am I going to do?" she asked. She shook her head. "I have no idea how to get back to my friends."

Iroh sat calmly beside her. "I'm sorry that you've been separated from them, Katara. But I do believe that destiny has led you here." Katara looked over to him, sniffling slightly.

"But I don't understand? Why would I be destined to be here with you two?" It didn't really make much sense to her.

Iroh shrugged. "If you believe that you destiny is still with the Avatar−and I actually do believe that, Katara−then perhaps we're your road to them."

Katara blinked, thinking about it. "But if I'm with you and Zuko, and you aren't looking for Aang, and they are looking for any of us, how would I find them?"

Iroh gave her a reassuring smile. "You know, there were times I thought the Avatar may truly never be seen again. Still, the moment Aang returned to the world, I knew my nephew's destiny was entwined with the Avatar's. Not at all unlike yours is. And that destiny is not finished." Iroh spoke with certainty. "I believe that Zuko will meet the Avatar again, somewhere, somehow. And I think you're supposed to be with us when our roads meet again."

Katara smiled now. "I think I understand now. So…I suppose we'll be travelling together again, then?"

Iroh smiled. "I missed your company. I think Zuko did, too, not that he would admit it."

Katara looked away. "I don't particularly want to talk to him," she informed Iroh.

Iroh nodded. "I understand. His actions hurt you."

"I was seriously starting to trust him. I was starting to think I knew him. And then he proved me wrong." She looked over to Iroh. "Seriously, why didn't you stop him? He listens to you."

"Sometimes," Iroh agreed. "But often, he does not. I've known Zuko since he was born. I spent much time with him when he was a child. Of course, I've spent all my time with him for the past three years. I know how to deal with Zuko. There are times in which I must put my foot down. But then, I also know from experience that sometimes, Zuko will not listen. On those occasions, trying to say no will likely accomplish nothing besides making him angry."

"So you just sit back and let him do stupid stuff?"

"He learns from the consequences," Iroh told her.

Katara sat back, considering.

After a few minutes, Zuko returned. He stopped as he saw that Katara was still there. Frowning, he came to them. "You're still here," he said bluntly. Katara met his glare with one of her own.

"I'm staying."

"What?! No, you're not." His eyes were slightly widened, his face expressing his bafflement.

"Nephew," Iroh interrupted them. "She has just learned of the conquest of Omashu. It's where her friends were going. Now, she has nowhere else to go."

"So we get stuck with her again?"

"She is here as our friend," Iroh insisted. "And I hope you'll treat her as such." Zuko glared at Katara.

"What do you expect me to do? Wander aimlessly around the Earth Kingdom?" she asked sarcastically.

"You aren't our problem."

"Get over yourself," she snapped.

"If the two of you don't want to talk," Iroh said firmly. "Then you don't have to. But Katara is coming with us, and I expect the two of you to be civil to each other." The two teenagers continued glaring at each other for a moment before looking away.

"Fine," Zuko agreed. Katara just nodded. "But this does mean we need more money. It's hard enough to support the two of us, now with her coming along, it'll be even more difficult."

Katara frowned. "I have money," she told them, pulling out her moneybag. "I've got one gold piece, five silver, and three copper."

Iroh grinned. "That can go a long way," he said cheerfully. He picked up his hat on the ground, putting the few copper coins he and Zuko had been given into the moneybag. Zuko looked at her warily.

The three of them used their funds to buy enough food for the day, if somewhat small portions. As night fell, they found a suitable place to sleep just outside the town.

Unnoticed by Iroh or Katara, Zuko stayed awake. He laid down, pretending to sleep, waiting until he was certain that Iroh and Katara were asleep. Once he was, he took out what he had taken earlier. A mask, exactly like the one he had previously used in his outings as the Blue Spirit. He looked to the forms sleeping near him.

Uncle Iroh, who had been there for as long as he could remember, providing love and guidance. Who had trained him, and accompanied him in his banishment, and had been ever patient with him.

And Katara. The girl who hated him, despite her previous claims otherwise. She had turned down his offer to come with them before, but now she came back to join them anyways. Hours later, Zuko still wasn't sure how he felt about that.

It was his duty to make sure they were okay, even if neither would appreciate his help. And though they had a little bit more money with Katara with them, he knew they were still lacking. But, he knew, there was plenty around them to be taken. His mind wandered back to the man who had swiped his swords at Uncle Iroh's feet, who had made Katara uncomfortable with his words and his stare.

Those swords weren't the best quality, Zuko observed. But they would do.

This chapter had a bit more extensive changes than others. That said, I suspect that I'll still be changing it even more in future revisions.