Sokka looked out at the ocean, his lower lip quivering. Then he threw back his head and burst out sobbing.
"Kataraaa!...little sister...WHY?"
Aang finished wrapping the white clothe around Appa's leg and a vein in his head twitched. He was getting really sick of the sudden bouts of agony that whined, incessantly, from the normally blunt teenage warrior.
"Get a hold of yourself, Sokka!" he yelled fiercely, grabbing Sokka's shirt and shaking him vigorously out of his sobs. "Katara's fine, will you relax? She's on an island, this area has a lot of them, see?"
He pointed out into the ocean where several dark dots littered the horizon's sparkling waves. The islands were small, but numerous and dense with all forms of life. At the sight, Sokka's watering eyes snapped open and he danced for joy, continuing to cry from his own happiness.
"Katara! She's alive, she's on an island! And -" he paused suddenly and turned back to the Avatar.
"Why didn't you tell me this in the last three hours I was crying?"
Aang gave a quirky little smile and scratched the back of his head.
"Well, I would have, but while you were busy crying, I was fixing the wound in Appa's leg." he said, leering at the warrior and pointing towards the giant bison, who lay groaning at the end of the beach. Momo scuttled towards it and held out a big melon, which Appa gulped down without even chewing. Momo seemed angry to see the melon go, but ran back into the forest to fetch another one for his injured friend. Sokka saw the bandaging on the bison's leg and sweat dropped.
"Oh...right. Well how long until he can fly again!"
"Relax Sokka, just a few days. And then we can scan all the islands. Katara is smart, she won't get into any trouble. Besides, she knows all those water bending moves - and there's a lot of water around here for her to protect herself with."
Sokka looked out at the waves and paused. His attention focused on the Avatar and confusion lit up his features.
"I don't get it Aang. How can you be all positive and cheery about this? I mean, we saw Katara fall -"
"I just have fath in Katara, Sokka, and I know that she's alright!" said Aang, grinning at his friend. Sokka raised an eyebrow at him but shrugged it off, gazing back out into the ocean. Aang turned back toward Appa and his smile faded.
"Please...let her be alright," he whispered.
Zuko did not see her for the rest of the night. His thoughts were in other places, other times; he did not feel the cold air stinging his bare side, or the bitter stone that longed to blister the soles of his feet. He was caught, momentarily, in the charming promises of some artificial reality which he had never dared to enter before. He noticed a nightingale in his window as the night grew late around him, settling its shadows into the abandoned room and running races through the hallways of the tower. The legendary bird, all bathed in silver moonlight, gazed down at the Fire Nation Prince with a dark stare that held a depth of innocence and wisdom which he had never see before. Just as he reached up to run his fingers through the brilliant bird's feathers, it let out one long, glorious note and sped off into the night.
The sound pierced his ears and he flinched visibly. A single flame escaped his fingers, but he was too confused to e angry anymore. He needed to rest, but he knew that in the morning he would have to figure this girl out, have to get them rescued, have to make sure they could survive until a ship came -
Them? They?
Zuko grit his teeth and held his head in both hands. He could feel the loose hair from his ponytail brush across his hands and his mind flashed to a sudden image of her hair, fluttering gently across her eyes.
He growled furiously and tore his hands from himself with a flash of flame.
Stop thinking. Stop feeling. You're confused because you're feeling again. Burn it out of you.
Zuko, fuming, threw himself to the ground and fire consumed him. He cried, brief and low, as the flames seared his arms and threatened to engulf the rest of his body. He tried to focus on the source of his anguish, and her face appeared again before his eyes. He roared, the heat strengthening around him, but he paused suddenly in complete wonder and his gold eyes relaxed.
His body entire body was aflame, roaring furiously, and inferno of red and orange that blinded his sight and strained the endurance of his sweating body. But he was hotter than he had ever remembered being, lying on his knees, face to the floor, watching the flames glance off the thick stone. He was raging, her eyes gazing at him as the fire burned, uncontrollable...but he could not feel it. He shook his head and the fire went out with little effort as he crouched there, bewildered. It wasn't until later, when he walking down the steps of the temple in search of water, did he notice the lines of dark burns that seared across his flesh.
Katara stared up out of her window, hearing the faint echoes of bats darting through the deserted hallways. She did not want to sleep, for her body has just regained its strength and it was anxious to be in motion. Tapping her fingers restlessly, she gazed out her window at the glittering stars and sighed as a nightingale flew past. Finally she couldn't stand it any longer, gave a sigh of frustration, and slipped own the stairs of the Fire Temple.
The night fell into Katara's gaze like a magical, glorious dream; fireflies flickered through the air and landed gently in her hands as nightingales sang in the distance, the soft symphony of their voices drifting sweetly through the ragged cliffs. She felt a need to break into dance, to sing - but a sudden, new though overtook her. She wanted to feel the rushing of clear water, the cold comfort of a gentle spring...
It took less time to climb down, mostly because they had created more sturdy footholds after disposing of all loose rock on their climb up. As Katara stepped down into the glade, she felt herself quivering with excitement. This island held the very depth and soul of water that she had been struggling to feel within herself, and she knew bending here would be an easier task than before. As she stepped down into the clear, cold water, it rose up to her knees and she rolled up her pants, pondering the depth of the pool. She rolled up her sleeves as well, preparing herself for what she knew would be a serious bending practice. Her hands spread before her, palms open, she looked down into the dark water and focused her attention the cold layers of life that flowed, gently, around her feet.
She would make it slice the air, she decided; the whip was getting easy and she wanted to attempt another trick, one that required more focus, more control. She would raise her hand and the water would follow, forming itself into a swirling, glittering sphere; as she released it from her it would crack into a blade of ice, slice whatever lay in its path, then melt instantly to water again and fall back under her control.
As she raised the water into the air Zuko stepped from behind the brush, silent and undetectable even when he wasn't paying attention. When he saw her bending he froze, watching as her body swayed slowly, fluidly, her eyes staring at the water.
She pulled back her arm and threw it forth, but the result was disastrous. True, the water turned to ice as it was supposed to, but it had frozen into a strangely twisted shape and spun off in some random direction that Katara had no intention of sending it. The outcome of her attempt infuriated her.
"No! No way! I had it! No -"
She stopped suddenly as she caught Zuko's eye, which gazed at her in both humor and amazement. She saw the laughter hovering at his lips and her face turned red.
"You - what - what do you want? I'm busy."
Zuko just looked at her, trying his best to keep a straight face. He shook his head, but a sudden thought popped into his mind and he looked back up at her.
"What's your name?"
This question was so sudden that Katara just stood there for a moment, stunned. Her name? He knew her name! Of course, she had told him...she knew his name and...wait...he didn't know her name...
"..I...Katara. Katara, alright? Is that all you wanted?"
Zuko just laughed and shook his head, walking up beside her as she huffed, annoyed but no longer angry. The Prince bent down and scooped a handful of water into his mouth. As he did so, moonlight flickered down his arms and Katara gasped.
She reached out instantly to touch the wounds before Zuko had time to react and began to interrogate him.
"Zuko - are you -"
But Zuko knew her question and forced her away with a violent shove before she had time to ask. The darkness enclosed him protectively and he glared at her, flame flickering between his fingers. Instantly, Katara knew that any mention of burns were out of the question.
"...sorry..."
At the weak note of her voice the flames disappeared and Zuko mentally cursed himself. There he went again, being the tough, rude, uncaring person he had forced himself to be...no, the person he was, the person he woudl always be. And she would always be quiet, be weak, the one who gave a constant sorry, was always forgiving...it was the curse of their elements, the way the fire ran through him, searing in his anger. The way the water flowed through her, peaceful, gentle...
"You need to feel it, you know," he whispered. Katara, startled, gazed warily at him.
"What?"
"To bend it. You need to feel it."
Katara froze a moment, trying to understand what he was so briefly explaining. The moment she realized he had seen her failure and was trying to teach her how to water bend, her pride flared dangerously.
"I don't need a fire bender telling me how to water bend," she snarled and stalked away into the night, leaving Zuko alone by the side of the pool.
"We will turn our course to those islands and seek my nephew, Captain."
"With all due respect, Sir, the storm -"
"Was not as bad as you believed it to be," said Iroh instantly, angered by the Captain's reluctance. "I have seen much worse in my time, though it was quiet bad. Zuko is alive, and resting somewhere on an island, no doubt waiting for us."
"The Avatar, his steed was wounded. Zuko commanded us to -"
"Zuko is not here, therefore I will command you," hissed the old man. "If it were you out there, my nephew would pause his search to find you, as ruthless as he may seem."
The Captain swallowed and looked long and hard at the old man. Then he saluted and went below deck.
Iroh's stern expression relaxed. He was terribly, terribly afraid of his nephew's death, but what could be done? He could feel in his heart that Zuko was alive, and the Prince was the fiercest fighter he knew - who could take him down? Nonetheless he looked into the sky again, which gazed back at him with eyes made of stars and the early beginning of a full moon.
"May the Spirits of Fire protect you," he whispered.