Chapter
22: Freedom
"Why – why are you here?" His voice didn't sound like his voice. His eyes immediately zeroed in on the place where her stomach was supposed to be, but from the way she was sitting on the couch, he could see nothing. The dark red cloak draped over her slightly hunched shoulders and revealed nothing. Was she sitting like that on purpose? Did she know that he knew? What had driven her to come out here all the way to find him? A million questions raced through his mind.
Tell me what I want to hear, Katara. Just tell me. This is your chance.
Her eyes probed him, searched every detail of his face and his posture, as if she was trying to find something. She was trying to find the lie in his body, the part of him that had made him betray her, or so that anonymous letter had said. She could find nothing but his utter astonishment as seeing her here. She couldn't read the Prince. Not after all these months of living together, of a certain not-so-unwilling captivity.
How many times had this happened before, to more people than anyone could count? You thought you knew someone, you thought you knew them down to the very core of their being. You thought you could predict their next move, feel their inner emotion, and understand their most private thoughts. You thought you knew someone so completely it was like you weren't even two different people anymore, that if you were any closer, you'd combine and become one single entity.
But in the end, you find out that you know absolutely nothing at all about them.
That you know nothing more than what you knew the first time you met.
That in each other's eyes, you are, and will always be, utter strangers.
Tell me what I want to hear, Zuko. Just tell me. This is your chance.
She'd been dreaming, anticipating, and fearing this moment for the better part of three months. She'd been hungering for their reunion since the very morning he'd left. She'd thought up a million different ways they could meet again, all of them happy and joyous. She planned out fantasies from beginning to end, dictating their each and every word and touch and movement.
But now that she was here, her mind was empty.
"I got tired of the palace," she said.
It wasn't what she'd wanted to say, and it wasn't what he'd wanted to hear.
Inside, Zuko despaired. She wasn't ever going to tell him from her own mouth, was she? She was going to go on pretending, wasn't she?
Just as his heart was beginning to break, she stood up in one smooth fluid motion, and everything was revealed. The cloak (one of his, he noticed) slid aside and her smooth, rounded belly, filled with new life, could be seen.
His breath caught in his throat, and her eyes widened at the expression on his face.
Not one of surprise, but one of confirmation.
"You knew, didn't you?" she asked, eyes narrowed. "You knew!"
He nodded. What else could he say? His face had given away everything.
"Who told you? Who did you leave to spy on me?" her voice began to rise. The calm that had surrounded them earlier disappeared, and they were brought down to earth again. Earth, where ugly words and even uglier truths were always revealed in the end.
"Did you have me followed? Was it that guard? Did you not trust me?"
Trust. That was all it came down to in the end.
"Did you not trust me?" he retaliated. "Didn't you trust me enough to tell me before I left? Don't you think I deserved to know?"
She ignored his questions. "So you did spy on me."
"When were you going to tell me?"
"When the moment was right, Zuko!"
"I deserved to know! When did you think the moment would be right, Katara? When you went into labor?"
"I was going to tell you! That morning you left – I was going to tell you then. Tell you everything," she finished rather lamely, and they both knew she was lying.
He stiffened inside. "After I heard of it, I wasn't even sure if the child was mine. I'm not sure, even now." The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them.
She reacted as though he'd physically slapped her. Her body seemed to shake with fury as she realized what he was accusing her of.
"Tell me, Zuko, where was I eight months ago?" Her voice was barely controlled anger. "Tell me, who was the only human company I had when I was a prisoner?"
Too late, he realized his mistake, and tried to fix it. "Me. I didn't – I didn't mean to accuse you of anything – "
"But you did!" she almost shrieked. "You don't trust me!"
"You must understand – I thought that since you hadn't told me about it, you must be hiding for some reason." And what better reason than the fact that she might have gone behind his back and deceived him?
A change came over Katara, and her face smoothed over into a mask of calm serenity again. "Well now you know the truth," she said simply. This wasn't the way she'd planned to break the news to Zuko. With accusations and lies flying around them. This wasn't the way she'd wanted it to be.
But who said life ever played out the way we want it to?
"I brought my servant with me," she continued. "he's with our horses."
"You traveled with a servant?"
"Don't you think a pregnant woman traveling without help might seem a bit suspicious?" Katara asked. "Of course I could have handled myself, but Kaz was a good companion all the same."
"And horses? Where'd you get horses?"
"With your money," she said. "And Kaz is probably tired of standing around outside. It's be good manners to invite him in. We've been riding and camping outside for the better part of a week."
For some reason, he was oddly irritated by this. It was almost like she was subtly blaming him that she'd had to travel in such bad conditions, with a baby on the way, no less. Well, he wasn't the one who'd wanted her to sail across half the world and ride to follow the army! It had been her own decision!
"Tell him to give the horses to my men," he said curtly. "They'll be well cared for. He can go to the cook tent and get some food if he wants."
Katara gave him an inscrutable look, before disappearing outside. Murmurs and the jingling of horse bridles floated in, before Katara reappeared again. Kaz was happily off to find a good, hot meal.
An uncomfortable silence descended upon them.
Katara knew that on the outside, she looked brisk, calm, and prepared for anything that was coming her way. She could deal with hot-tempered princes any day of the week, and her pregnancy slowed her down only a bit. She was in control.
On the inside, she felt like she was teetering on the edge.
The littlest push, and she would fall over.
"Have you met any of your enemies yet?" she asked in a polite tone.
Instantly, Zuko's eyes sharpened on her inquiring face. Did she know…?
Impossible. She couldn't have found out about Juiko.
She continued to look at him. Tell me the truth. Come on.
He shook his head.
Please don't lie.
"We haven't seen anybody at all," he said easily, sitting down on one of the many cushions littering the floor. "I'll bet they know we're coming, but we haven't had a single encounter with the enemy yet."
Katara wanted to cry.
But she just smiled. "I'm glad no one has died yet." Bastard.
They were being insufferably polite and courteous to each other. They were hiding their inner thoughts, unwilling to share a single true emotion with each other. Why? Was this what happened to couples after long separation? Would they have to start all over again, from the very beginning?
But not so. Zuko was the first to release himself as his neutral mask crumbled and he looked at her. Confusion, pain, and a sort of… pleading anguish. "Who's side are you on, Katara? Are you glad that no one from their side has died yet, or are you happy that my men are still alive?"
She looked at him in shocked silence for a moment. She hadn't expected this. "What are you talking about, Zuko? I'm glad no one has died yet, whether they be Fire bender or Earth bender or a lowly servant."
She gave him another long look. "You are a human before you are a Fire bender, Zuko. A breathing person who has a right to live." A sideways glance. "I hope you'll think the same way of my people when you're on the battlefield."
That hit him harder than he'd expected. "So you know I'll be fighting Water benders?"
"Of course I do. People everywhere are saying this is the final battle. The one that will decide future countries. Or even future empires." She shrugged, a tense movement that had nothing to do with carelessness. Her voice was tight. "Water benders would certainly be in on the fight. My father joined the first few battles against your father, several years ago, as allies to the Earth Kingdom."
"And this – this doesn't bother you?"
"What do you think I am, a monster?" she snapped at him, fighting back tears. "Of course it bothers me, Zuko! The man I love and the people I love are fighting on opposite sides of the war! They are bent on destroying each other. You tell me how I should react!"
You tell me where my brother is! You tell me if Juiko is still alive!
Her look was a hallowed, haunted one. The look of someone who has just realized she has lost her way in a dark place and has no idea of how to get out again. "It's impossible for me to pick a side. Because picking one side means condemning the other."
Zuko looked at her calmly. "Pick the side you want to spend the rest of your life with. Pick the side that deserves your loyalty. Pick the side that you love most."
Hadn't he heard a single word she'd said so far? She was being pulled apart, straight down the middle. Divided equally. Pull her any further, and she knew she would give up and just let go.
If not for one thing. Her hand rested lightly on her distended abdomen.
"I'll pick the side that holds the most promise for my child," she said, as calm as if she hadn't just been debating death a few seconds before. "I'll pick the side that will be a safe home for my baby, that will give them a future." After that, I won't care what happens to me.
Zuko's response was automatic. "Then choose me, Katara."
It's not that simple.
"It's my child too," he said, an edge of persuasion in his voice. "You think I don't care? You think I wouldn't try to give him or her the best possible life available? The minute the baby is born, Katara, he or she will be royalty. Do you know what that means?" He was openly begging her to understand now.
"It means that our child won't go without food for a single day in their life. They won't know suffering, or pain, or loss. They will have both parents to raise them and love them and teach them. Nobody would dare raise a hand to harm them, because the safety provided by the palace and the guards would be complete. They would live a life full of happiness. They would receive the very best education we could provide, with tutors and professors and teachers of all subjects. They would be safe. They would have a chance at life. And they would be happy. Don't you want our child to be happy, Katara?"
There was an underlying note of desperation in every single word he spoke. But all that he spoke of was possible, was attainable.
"Really, Katara, what more does a mother want other than the perfect life for her child?"
Choose me, and our child will receive all of these, and more.
It was heaven that he spoke of. A paradise. A true mother's dream.
Her eyes were fixed to his face, to the tempting promises he dangled in front of her, to the forbidden fruit he begged her to taste.
Everything he said was true. Everything he said could be provided for this baby. A wonderful life, free of pain and loss. A life that she never had.
And a life that the royal Prince Zuko never had.
There's a flaw in your heaven, Zuko. She thought inside. If being a royal child is living in a paradise, then what happened to you? If everything you speak of is true, then how come you never had it?
Zuko didn't realize that he was the living proof that all his promises were false and fake. His own childhood had not been heaven. His own life had been filled with pain and worry and loss. Although Katara knew that she couldn't base a royal child's life on the one example she'd ever met, she knew that things happened. Things could go wrong. And they always, inevitably, did.
There is no such thing as a perfect life, my dear.
You've lied to me again.
I wish I could believe you.
"You'd be a fool not to take this oppurtunity for our child, Katara." Zuko whispered. "A heartless fool."
I am a fool.
"Do you promise me," her voice almost broke. "Do you promise me that all that you said will be given to our baby? Do you promise me that everything you've told me is true?"
"I promise it!"
Empty promises are just as ugly as lies. Or are they, in the end, the exact same thing?
She rose up in one fluid motion, one hand held to her belly. Crossing the empty space between them, she reach up on her toes and kissed him.
He kissed her back, desperate and pleading.
When she pulled away, she smiled serenely up into his face. "Thank you for helping me make my choice, Zuko."
The expression on his face was of utter joy and happiness. The expression of a man who has finally received what he's hungered for all his life. The returned love of the one he loves most, even more than himself.
He was in a euphoria. He was living his lifelong dream. He wasn't connected to reality anymore. Holding her close with one arm, he rested the other one on the child they'd created together.
"Everything will be alright, Katara," he whispered into her hair. "You'll see. Everything will be perfect."
In the dark of the night, she stroked his scarred face with one gentle hand. They were comfortable, even on the smaller bed Zuko used when on a war campaign. They fit perfectly against each other, as if separate piece of a puzzle finally connected again. Finally together again.
Wasn't this what she'd wanted for so long, ever since the day he'd left her in his palace? His sleeping presence next to her in bed? His deep, heavy breathing wrapped her in a languid, hazy cloud of warmth. Of comfort. Of safety. Of love.
His skin was always so… warm to her touch. Not unbearably hot. Just… warm. Did all Fire benders have this trait? Did they just have higher body temperatures because of their inner fire? Or was it just Zuko? Or was it just her own perception of him?
She was frigid cold in comparison.
He slept deeply, and did not wake, even though usually he woke the minute she shifted in bed. An inbred soldier's reflex. His sleep was complete. He wouldn't be waking up, not until the white sleeping powder released its hold on him.
The powder she'd slipped into his drink before going to bed earlier that night.
Her first betrayal of the night.
Before sleeping, he'd wrapped his arms around her, and leaned forward to kiss her forehead. Oh how he'd missed her.
"Are you sure you're all right?" He asked worriedly. "Your forehead feels so cold."
"I'm fine." She smiled up at him. "Good night."
He had yawned, long and hard. "Good night. Love you."
Loveyou loveyou loveyou.
In less than a minute he was asleep.
She stared up into his scarred face, peaceful in sleep. Enfolded in his warm embrace, the comfort he offered her made the betrayal she was about to commit all the worse.
She extricated herself from his arms oh-so-gently, and reached for his neck. Down the collar of his loose shirt, she felt for the chain on which the key to her prison used to be kept.
Now it held the key to the Avatar's freedom, and her own future.
She brushed his throat, and suddenly her mind called up an image of herself, face consumed in grief, hands throttling his neck and strangling him in his sleep.
She might as well, compared to what she was about to do.
Katara slowly slid the chain up over his head, the ornate black key dangling from it. The flame-red ruby embedded in it's top winked accusatorily at her.
Her second betrayal of the night.
"I'm so sorry." She whispered. As if he could hear her. As if the words mattered.
Sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry echoed over and over again in her head like a mantra. And she knew he would never hear her.
Placing her bare feet on the cold ground inside the tent, she climbed from the bed and pulled on her cloak. The hood she draped low over her head.
A soft rustle and she was outside, gently closing the tent flap behind her. There were no guards outside the royal tent tonight; Zuko had excused them all, in order to have more privacy with her. How convenient. One more obstacle out of her way.
The air was biting cold, and a small breeze blew through the camp. The ground was slightly damp under her feet, and the remains of campfires were smoldering down to blackened lumps, the soldiers having turned in for the night. Except for those on sentry duty.
There were two things she needed to accomplish. She had to find them first… she was completely unfamiliar with the army's camp layout.
Well. She had all night to search. Time to waste.
The first goal she found in a short period of time. She skirted the camp's borders as quietly as possible. There would be quiet a bit of explaining if she was caught by a guard on duty.
When she found the two heads stuck on separate poles at the edge of camp, it was all she could do not to cry out in horror.
Of course, any defining features were long rotted away. Time did that to dead people. But she knew, without looking or seeing, that one of them was a childhood crush, from the innocent days of her girlhood.
She would have liked to see him one last time. She would have liked to see the man he turned out to be. Maybe they could have been friends.
Maybe they could have been something more, if life had been different and she hadn't met Zuko and fell into that whirling, violent, headlong rush that was their love.
So many things could have been different. She could have made so many different choices, choices that would have landed her somewhere far away from here. She would spend the rest of her life wondering if she'd done this right, if she could have said something else here, and if that would have made it all better.
The dirty, ragged blue cloth fluttering slightly from one of the eyeless skulls brought to mind Zuko's earlier words.
We haven't had a single encounter with the enemy yet.
Then who are these poor souls, Zuko? Your friends?
I'm so sorry you had to lie to me. Did you keep it a secret from me to avoid hurting my feelings? To avoid angering me? To avoid bringing me pain?
What do you think I am now?
She couldn't do anything more for her fellow countrymen, dead and spiked on a pole.
She turned and walked away, knowing that she still had one more person to visit before the night ended. After a bit of searching, she found an inconspicuous tent on the far, far edge of the camp, practically located in the dense woods. It was a small, normal thing, no different from any other soldier's tent. But it had two alert guards posted at the front entrance.
From what she could see, it was dark inside. No movement. No light.
Get it over with.
Katara stepped forward from the shadows of the trees into the dim light of the moon, pulling her hood back to reveal her face. Inside her cloak, her hand gripped the smooth hilt of a knife.
The two guards noticed her and one of them squinted to see her better in the dim lighting. Was it, was it a woman? Stark confusion showed on both of their faces. Had it been anyone else, they would have apprehended the intruder immediately, because under the orders of Lord Zuko, the important prisoner inside the tent was not to have any visitors.
But a woman? There was a woman in the camp? Wait, was this the Lord Zuko's woman? They'd heard rumors circulating through the campfires tonight, about her mysterious sudden appearance. Was it really her? They were unsure of what to do. Maybe Lord Zuko had sent her on some sort of errand –
"Um – miss?" One of them raised a hand, looking clearly confused, and hesitated.
"The Fire Lord has granted me permission to speak to the prisoner," she said in a low voice.
They gave each other uncertain looks. Had it been anyone else except for her, they would have adamantly refused the request, since their orders had been specific: No one other than the Fire Lord was to see the prisoner inside the tent.
But here she was, the woman everyone had been whispering about. She was the famous best friend and traveling companion of the Avatar. For more than half a year, after the Fire Lord had captured her, she'd stayed with his Majesty at the palace. Some said she was a Water bender who had crossed over to the side of the Fire Nation because of an argument she'd had with the Avatar. Some said she was a woman not to be trusted, a spiteful traitor who sold information about the Water Tribe army's inner workings to the Fire Lord for the small price of her personal safety. Some said the Lord Zuko was unhealthily obsessed with her, and kept her around for… reasons.
The most amazing rumors, the ones fearfully whispered into ears by gossips afraid to be caught with the words on their lips, seemed impossible. These rumors were quickly hissed and then left to simmer in the minds of the people.
Some said she was to be the mother of the next heir to the Fire Nation. Some said she was already with child.
Outrageous. The people of the Fire Nation would never accept a ruler of mixed blood. It was blasphemy just to think about it.
But whichever rumors were true, it didn't matter because her uncanny blue gaze was making the two guards uncomfortable. She carried the weight of the Fire Lord's word with her. The soldiers looked at each other again, neither wanting to be the first to deny or admit her request.
"The Lord Zuko will not be happy to hear that I was detained." Her lofty, cold voice seemed to ring in the guards' ears.
They finally, reluctantly, stepped aside. Their fear of their lord's punishment won out over their common sense.
Inside her cloak, Katara's trembling hand released its death-grip on the knife. She was thankful it hadn't come to that.
She ducked in under the tent flap, and as it closed behind her, it seemed she was in a whole other world, just her and the twelve-year-old boy sitting behind the metal bars of the cage, staring back at her. None of the usual nighttime sounds permeated through the tent canvas. No crickets chirping, no grass rustling, no nocturnal birds cooing.
Just the still silence that filled a lifetime's worth of space between her and the Avatar.
"Katara," he said finally. "What are you doing here?"
He couldn't have been speaking above a mere whisper, but the sound of his childish voice seemed to fill her ears and rush into her head, beating back every other thought.
She stared at him, the key to his prison in one hand, and the knife in the other.
It occurred to her, absentmindedly, that she was writing history. Every single action she did after this moment would determine the course of world events. Every word she spoke would decide whether it was peace or war people would see.
In one hand, she held the trust and friendship of the world-famous Avatar, the man fated to save the world.
In the other hand, she held the love and devotion of the Fire Lord, the man fated to conquer the world.
Twist one, pull the other, and they would respond like puppets to her manipulation, and people all over the Earth would sob with grief or cry with happiness.
It wasn't the Avatar or the Fire Lord who would determine history.
It was her, a little slip of a no-name girl from a grubby little tribe situated on a clod of dirt called an island.
It was her, Katara, who had the power now to kill or let live.
She wondered, with a sort of desperate amusement, how many other women in the world would kill to be in her position, to have her power, to have the absolute trust and love of these two powerful people.
Probably hundreds.
But the one who had to make the choice was Katara, the one who never wanted and never aspired to have it in the first place.
I was never meant to be here. Whatever was supposed to happen to me, this wasn't it. I'm sure of it. I was never meant to be here.
I don't want to be here.
School children of the future would study history books and learn about the great Avatar and fearsome Fire Lord. They would hear about the lives and deaths of both famous men, and they would make their own conclusions as to who was right and who was wrong. They would study the war strategies the Fire Lord made, and they would read about the escapades and adventures of the Avatar.
No where in those history books would anyone ever mention a girl named Katara. Maybe there'd be a small footnote at the bottom of the page saying One of the Avatar's two traveling companions was a Water bender. We don't know what happened to her afterwards and we don't really care.
Oh, well. She supposed that was the way life was. She didn't need recognition or fame to be happy. The things she did need for happiness were out of her reach, anyways. No use wanting something she could never have. She would just have to do what she could do in order to improve the lives of total strangers around the world. She couldn't exactly do that – but she knew the boy who could.
"Hello, Aang," She tried not to cry. "I'm here to set you free."
He quietly sat in his prison as she smoothly pushed the black key into the lock, twisted it, and pulled open the door. Slowly and surely, Aang crept out of the small metal cage where he'd been imprisoned for so long, like a mere animal.
"Katara – " Aang began.
"Shh," she said, not ungently. "There are still guards outside."
He looked at her, or what he could see of her in the darkness. Where had she been? What had she been doing the entire time he'd been stuck in his cell, and then this cage? Her dark hair was clean, recently washed. Her face was healthy, filled-out. The red cloak she wore was of good heavy cloth – he'd felt it as he crawled out of his cage. She shifted, and he saw yet another glint of red underneath. She was wearing all red. Fire Nation colors.
He could also see the swell of her stomach on her otherwise slim frame.
She knew he saw.
"It's his, isn't it?" he asked softly.
She smiled, the kind of smile that meant the only alternative was crying.
Aang didn't hear her say yes, but he didn't hear her say no either. Had it been rape? Or had she been… willing, no matter how preposterous the idea was? He supposed the surprise and shock and horror – pregnant with Zuko's child – would come later, but now he was merely numb. After those long, countless days inside his prison, he was finally (but not entirely) free.
"Are you alright?" Katara asked him.
He knew she definitely wasn't feeling alright. But he, on the other hand, was fine, physically, emotionally, and mentally. Or so he told himself.
"I'm fine," he said, trying to reassure her.
Neither of them wanted to move first from this dark, warm shelter. An odd sense of security seemed to envelope them, the security of a safe haven, a mighty stronghold, a mother's womb.
There were things going on here that were bigger than the both of them. There were things going on here that neither of them could fully understand, or could really describe in words.
"Do – do you love him?" He asked. Aang had no idea where the question had come from, but somehow, it seemed like an important thing to ask. Something he had to know before he left. He waited for her to get angry at him, or to burst into tears.
You can lie to me if you want, Katara.
She stared at him. He was so young, but he seemed to know so much. Could he read her as easily as a learned scholar read a book? Could he read her mind? It wouldn't surprise her if that was another unknown talent of the great Avatar. Maybe he was just really sensitive.
Her first reaction was to deny everything vehemently, to slap him and shake her head side-to-side.
But she couldn't lie to him, not now, not at the end of everything.
He was the Avatar. He deserved better than a lie. He was her friend, and that was the real reason why he deserved the truth.
"Yes." She was glad to find her voice didn't shake.
"Oh." He looked at her with a sort of something in his eyes… not anger, and not disgust. Pity.
A strange force of irritation and annoyance welled up inside her chest. Why are you looking at me like that? I don't need your pity. You think because you're the all-powerful Avatar you understand everything, even love, but you don't understand this you never will. Don't feel sorry for me, because I won't feel sorry for myself. You're fucking twelve. What would you know?
She was fucking sixteen. What would she know?
Nothing.
Nothing at all.
Like every other teenager in the world, she thought that at a certain age, she knew everything there was to know about the world. She thought she was mature, learned, an adult. She thought she was responsible and experienced. She thought she knew love, and she thought she knew life.
But don't I? She thought to herself. Haven't these past few months – haven't all the things that have happened to me, changed me and made me more than an immature girl? Don't I know things now? Don't I have the experience that changes a person into a full-grown adult?
Whichever she was, teenager or adult, she was fucked.
"We gotta get you out of here," Katara said, turning to the opening. "You have to be gone before they know you're – "
A light touch on her arm made her stop again. She didn't want to look at him anymore. She didn't know how much longer she could keep from crying.
"You're coming with me, right?" His eyes were earnest and hopeful. "You're going to come with me, and then we'll find Sokka together, right?"
She spoke as if she hadn't heard his question. "Just northeast of this camp is the Earth Kingdom army. They'll take you in and treat you with respect once they know who you are. My people will be there as well, and most likely in the next few weeks there will be battle. I don't know how far away they're encampment is – probably a week's worth of traveling. If you fly, it'll be quicker. Remember, northeast."
"You're coming with me, right?"
Katara smiled as if she was making a joke. She waved a hand towards her abdomen. "With this thing? I'll just slow you down Aang. You can't run and fight when I'm dragging you down. I'll be weak and I won't provide very much protection."
"If we made it, you could give birth among your people. Among people who love you. Among people who know you. "
That tantalizing idea gripped Katara's heart like a vise, and she almost choked. To be able to give birth to her child among the Water Tribe, with the help of traditional midwives and healers, people who had experience with labor and women who would soothe her brow and calm her, because her mother wasn't here to do that. The longing rose undeniably strong inside her. Among people who love you.
But if she went, she would compromising Aang's position. No doubt the Fire Nation would immediately know of his absence, and would send out enormous search parties to comb the area for him. If he dragged a pregnant woman along, they'd have to stop frequently to rest, they'd have to run much slower, and they would leave obvious tracks a blind man could follow.
"Come on, Katara –"
"No." She almost snapped. She was being angry because what she wanted was out of her reach, because she had to make this sacrifice for so many other people out there. "No, you have to go by yourself. It's the only way you'll survive –"
"Will he hurt you?" Aang cut her off. His eyes bored into her own. "Will he hurt you once he finds out?"
She opened her mouth to say no, of course not, it was on the tip of her tongue and then it seized her that she might be lying if she said it. She choked on the words, swallowing them back down, down, down where Aang wouldn't be able to hear them.
Would Zuko – would his temper… would he – She refused to think about it, even though she already knew the likely answer.
Katara could still feel Aang's gaze on her face. If she lied and said no, he would be satisfied and leave her here with the idea that she would be fine. If she told the truth and said I'm not so sure, the equivalent of saying yes, then he would continue to persuade her to leave with him and they would attract the attention of the guards.
"Of course not, Aang." She said, eyes bright. "I'll be fine. It's you I'm worried about. You're the one who needs to get away as fast as possible. Get away and defeat the Fire Nation and free the world and then we'll see each other again, how about that?"
He nodded slowly, appeased for the moment. She held in a sigh of relief.
"If I knew where your staff was, I would get it for you and you could fly. But I think maybe you'll just have to run very fast until you find another method of traveling," she continued to whisper. He listened attentively as she shoved a small parcel into his arms. "Food, but only enough to last for a few days. I couldn't steal anymore."
He just said a quiet thank you.
Katara continued to speak. She was starting to get more and more nervous. Time seemed to have sped up between them. "When I say go, you are going to rush out of this tent as fast as you possibly can. Do you hear me, Aang? As fast as you've ever run in your life, so the soldiers won't be able to grab you. Run into the forest and keep running until you're positive no one is following you anymore. I'll stay behind and distract them. Do you understand?"
He nodded frantically.
"As fast as you can possibly run. Use your Air bending."
"Okay."
She shifted until she was crouching behind him, and placed a hand lightly on his back. He tensed, his legs ready to spring up at any moment. Then he seemed to have a moment of hesitation.
"Katara –"
"Go!" She cried, and shoved him forward.
He slammed forward through the tent opening like a whirlwind. She rose quickly on her feet and ran outside, significantly slower.
The wind left behind by Aang was whipping through the air, and Katara had to squint to see through the dust. Everything was blurry, but there was a split second where she felt like she was standing in the eye of a storm.
In this tiny space of time, she saw one of the guards reach out and leap at the flickering end of Aang's shirt as the boy ran by – the soldier seemed to grip the yellow cloth – Aang's expression turned from determination to horror – he was slowing down – caught, all she'd given up would be gone to waste – no she wouldn't let it she wouldn't let it happen –
– and she stepped forward, side-on to the guard, and smoothly slid the knife in her fist upwards between that soldier's ribs.
It was the easiest thing she'd ever done in her life.
No time wasted making decisions, lamenting right and wrong. Just step, shift, and slide in, like slipping through warm silk. That warmth dripped down her hand, just black liquid, colorless, in the dark of the night.
It felt red.
She let go of the knife, feeling like the whole world had slowed down for this one moment, before it hit her like a solid wall in her face and everything flew back in a rush.
"Run, Aang, run!" She screamed, screamed with all her might and the boy she'd killed for sped off into the night. The dead guard keeled over at her feet after making his last choking, gurgling noise, the second soldier stepping back in shock and confusion.
Katara stared at her hands with dull eyes. They were entirely covered in that black, slippery substance. What was it called again? Oh yes, blood. That was it.
She could hear the remaining guard had scrambled off, shouting and yelling. The entire camp seemed to have woken up. They must all have heard her screams and the little drama that had taken place next to the jail tent, which was now devoid of its only occupant. Campfires and torches flared into being behind her, illuminating her black silhouette against the fire light. Now she could see the color on her hands. Brilliant and eye-catching.
It all passed in a daze. Officers and other soldiers ran up where she stood stock-still on the dirt, murmuring to themselves and looking shocked as anything when they discovered that yes, the Avatar was gone. A small crowd formed, then left to report to superiors, and then formed again.
Seemingly gentle hands grasped her arms and elbows, one on each side. Why were they being so kind? Why weren't they hitting her? Why weren't they punishing her? They should be screaming and punching. She'd killed someone. She deserved to be mistreated.
But those hands just moved her forward over the ground, over the ground and towards the largest tent in the camp, the biggest one, the one where he was probably already awake and had heard the news from his officers…
As they drew closer, she noticed that the interior of the tent was brightly lit with fire lamps, and there was one figure inside, one figure with his hair tied high and pacing back and forth and back and forth like he was thinking on some hard decision, a hard decision that might cost people their lives.
Those gentle hands pushed her through the tent flaps, into that glowing interior and everything seemed to settle in place as his eyes shot up and pinned her down, pinned her down like she was drowning in fire.
A/N: Was originally going to encompass the entire ending, but I decided to cut it into three chapters, as it got way too long.
Um... the document where I kept everyone's questions and the answers I wrote got deleted accidentally, so if you had something that was important (like I'm going to die if you don't answer this important), ask again. Although some questions may have been answered already.
Sorry about the spoilers thing again - I should've given more warning. As of now, I'm not updating Love Thy Enemy until this is done.
