The Little Dipper

Chapter Two: The hermit


Something had changed, she didn't know where or when exactly, but in his absence, Katara for the past two weeks remedied this by putting her frustrations out on...well, everything.

First victim was Sokka but he had it coming. Her brother came to her the night after the fight to console her, which she gladly appreciated with a snot filled embrace. Then as the hours turned to days and those days became weeks, there was no word of the Avatar

Sokka and Suki tried to coax her out of the house with menial grocery shopping at the new market built at the pier, he even mentioned the smoked salmon stand and that wasn't enough to get her out of her mood. Instead, Katara situated herself in her bedroom to fold her fresh linen after vigorously scrubbing away all the dirt and pit stains.

She even rearranged the layout of her room. Settling back home was a great distraction for her.

Her bed, currently just a green tea mattress covered in a pile of white and grey fur blankets, was pushed into the left corner of the room. The icy concrete walls were austere. Nothing to hang yet since most of her belongings were lost during the last battle of the war. By her window, Gran-gran left a burning stick of Palo Santo to cleanse the space. Watching the wisps of smoke that gently danced by the view of the arctic sea calmed her mind greatly. It reminded her of the Fire Nation, strangely enough.

Despite being emotionally distraught about Aang, Katara also found that in his absence, she actually missed Zuko instead. She also thought that she would be disgusted at that thought but surprisingly enough, she wasn't. Towards the end of her service of the Hundred Year War, the prince she loathed became her greatest friend. It's a shame that he became extremely busy with his royal duties and all- it must be hard repairing your whole nation from scratch without much assistance. But before Suki, Sokka, and Katara departed Caldera for the South Pole, Zuko did pull her aside for the warmest hug she's ever received and offered her a parting gift.

Sokka teased her about it but Katara felt it was probably the best gift given to her.


Dried bundles of lavender hung by her window pane that added a soothing scent to the atmosphere. She meant to make her first batch of lavender oil sometime in the coming weeks, just as her mother used to make them.

Along the opposite wall was a small fireplace, logs crackling gently over the course of the day to keep her room warm. It was warm enough for her to prance about the empty apartment only in a thin baggy tunic that ended just above the crease where her butt met her thighs. If she raised her arms high enough, her panties were clearly visible. Her thick curls were pulled up into a low bun, she couldn't be bothered to untangle it at the moment and it was also due for another wash.

Katara didn't mean to be vain but she was most excited to see a full length mirror that her father gifted upon her arrival home. Sokka knew Katara better than anyone that she was deep down a fashionista. In Ba Sing Sei, Sokka caught her watching her reflection, whether it was touching up her hair or fixing the sides of her dresses that tended to be baggy on her around the waist, or twirling in a skirt she hemmed for the umpteenth time after a fight.

A drawer full of training scrolls Pakku handed down to her was stored in her nightstand. Even if she was deemed a master at her element, reviewing the basics never hurt.

Near the entrance of her room was a chest of new clothes, gran-gran's beading loom rested against the wall for temporary storage, and a scrappy mandolin Bato gave to her before all the men took off to war.

Katara picked up the string instrument and cradled it on her lap. All the scratches and falls this thing had survived made Katara chuckle in disbelief. What used to be a polished redwood color was pale and matted, she guessed this mandolin represented how she felt inside after fighting and surviving war since she was child.

Her fingers strummed the first string and it was completely off pitch.

Bato said she'd make better use of it at home but that wish didn't age well. Ever since she left the village, she barely had the time to practice but she did play it when there was downtime during her travels, even if she just dabbled for two minutes before having to put it aside and rush to next activity. She low-key beat herself up for not being able to play or practiced enough to become better, even when she told herself that it was okay, allowing herself some grace for not indulging in her hobbies as often as civilians could.

Brushing her bad thoughts aside, Katara reached in her tote and pulled out a small wooden box. The edges of the box was intricately burned in a floral design resembling cherry blossoms and in the center was her name in kanji. Her fingers graced the metal lock that opened the box to reveal woven steel strings. Zuko's parting gift to her was two sets of new strings to play. He helped her put on the first set and tuned it and kept the second set in the box for her in case she needed more. Her brother may have teased her about it initially but in time he came to understand the sentiment.


Her old clothes laid in a pile on the floor, the set she left in when she fled the tribe to trek the globe with a bald twelve-year-old boy with a grand destiny. Katara chuckled, thinking back to the reason she left the tribe and wondered if she would do it all again knowing how things came to an end.

Sure, she made plenty of acquaintances and mingled in all four nations' cultures. She got to try a variety of foods, learned a handful of history and dialects, even mingled with royalty and occasionally dressed in the finest of silks. She did believe she had the experience of a lifetime that any teenager would die for. Yet, at the same time, the lows were very low. With those experiences followed suffering for people who had no part in what she was doing. Be it injury, poverty, or illness, suffering existed on either side. Sure, they may have won the hundred year war and Ozai is no longer king, but no one really wins in war.

Katara knew that as a healer of her kind, she was going to be needed. But the thought of going back out and facing the world made her feel ill. Right now she preferred the comfort of her home, or rather just a space for herself to just exist without judgement or obligations to take care of anyone else.

The water bender flopped on her bed in frustration, her mind running ahead of her.

Without a moment's notice, she heard the front door unlock and foot steps at the end of the hall in the apartment she shared with her brother. Sokka and Suki arrived from the market- they sounded giddy from what Katara could tell. It was a good thing Katara skipped on hanging out with them. She wasn't sure if she wouldn't feel out of place as the third wheel with her brother being intimate with Suki, even if they were just holding hands. It reminded Katara too much of what she's currently lacking in her life- she didn't need a reminder.

"Ohhh, Katara, You have a letter!" Now that definitely caught her attention. Scrambling to find some pants to pull on, Katara jolted up and for the first time all day she leaped out her room to greet her brother and Suki.

"It's from the fire nation." Suki grinned. Katara rolled her eyes and huffed, "Just because Zuko gave me a gift, it doesn't mean anything. Besides I was hoping that Aang would have the decency to tell me where he is or if he's even alive. At all."

Suki giggled, "Well we know that. No one ever said anything about Zuko- but I doubt you were friendly with any other fire bender."

Katara scoffed, "yeah yeah" and reached for the letter. Suki's assumption would be correct about the sender. The scroll was a vibrant red and gold that could have only come from the palace in Caldera.

"C'mon, open it!" Sokka urged, the nosiest older brother he is. Katara untied the silk strings that kept the scroll intact and furled it open. It was definitely from Zuko but it wasn't what she expected him to write. It was completely in Kanji and she could only make out a few characters.

"Now why would he send me something he knows I can barely read!" Katara grumbled. She scanned the document over and over until her eyes crossed.

Sokka cackled, "Who knew the Fire lord had a sense of humor after all." Suki nudged her elbow in his ribs, "Stop, that's not nice."

Katara was at her wits end.