Chapter Four: Wont See What Might Have Been
Katara watched through the haze as Aang struggled to guide Appa. She was numbly aware of a throbbing in her shoulder where her cloths were sticking to her skin uncomfortably. Vaguely, she wondered why Aang looked from side to side and in a panicked voice often asking, "Hey, Katara, are you alright?" or shouting, "Hey, Katara, you need to stay awake!"
"Yeah…" she would answer, still not sure what he meant by "alright". There was nothing wrong with her, nothing at all.
So in the time that passed between Aang's questions and her one worded answer, she took to staring into the sky watching the stars slowly disappear as the sun was pulled over the horizon. And in the silence she couldn't help but wonder where her brother was. She couldn't turn to look about the saddle, but his presence was nonexistent.
"Aang?" She asked when the last of the stars had hidden in the light. "Where's Sokka?"
The monk glanced back at her and she could see the sadness in his eyes.
"I don't know, Katara…" His voice was breaking, as his eyes grew shiny with premature tears. "I don't know. We had to get out of there…" He turned back to navigate, but the wind carried his pained voice to her ears. "I'm so sorry, Katara."
She knew he was crying, so she said; "Don't worry Aang, Sokka's a big boy. He can take care of himself." Even if she wasn't entirely faithful to the words they seemed to help. Aang nodded, slightly comforted, but the issue still hung above their heads, raining mercilessly.
Katara was taken back to a week before, when she and Sokka had stayed awake one night watching the flame of their campfire become charred embers. She realized, then, watching his face in the dying light, how both of them had grown. What they had seen in the course of weeks was changing them and she wasn't sure is she was entirely ready for the change. There were still ghosts hanging in the back of her mind, memories that ate away at her dreams when she slept. Sokka had them too, she remembered when they were younger - eight and nine - and how he would wake up crying for his mother. Gram Gram would appear and take him, and sometimes both of them, into her arms, rocking them until a dreamless sleep overtook their minds.
She never knew exactly what made Sokka cry at night, but as he grew and changed it diminished, becoming a weakly occurrence, then monthly, then, altogether, it was gone. Sokka picked up spears, daggers, his father's boomerang during that time. Training and preparing for war - the war he would fight in and the war he intended to see through to the end. It scared her, the thought of her brother on the battlefield, bloody, plunging a spear into the heart of another human. But, she assumed, that was what he wanted; that was the thought that frightened away the nightmares.
She had asked him once, when they were young, what he dreamed about. He didn't tell her; instead he slapped her and told her never to ask him something like that. Said she was lucky not knowing. Said she was the luckier one of the two. Gram Gram came over and scolded him for his behavior, sending him to bed without dinner. Katara had listened to his stomach rumble while he whined and whimpered in his sleep, thrashing away until morning when he awoke and stared at the small hut's ceiling until he noticed her gaze.
So, in front of the fire and the dying embers, he looked up at her with a contemplative face. He could think, she acknowledged this, but not all the time. Right now, though, she'd told herself, he was thinking.
"Katara," he said, coming right out with what was on his mind. "Listen, I want you to make me a promise."
"Sure," she'd said and raised her eyebrows. "What is it?"
He licked his lips and dropped his head, eyes back in the glowing cinders. "If I ever get captured I want you and Aang to go on without me. Okay?" He'd looked up again, catching her startled eyes. "This is the fate of the world we're talking about Katara… It's not worth my life."
"No," she'd said firmly, angry that he'd even suggest such a thing. "Sokka, you, me and Aang are a family, we'll put ourselves in danger for each other. It's a given. We could never leave you behind!"
"Shhh!" he hissed and glanced at the Avatar's sleeping form. "No, Katara, me and you are family. Aang is something different entirely. Aang is hope and nobody's life is worth the hope for peace. Katara, please promise me…" he was desperate, pleading even. "For mother?"
She'd been shocked, how dare he use the image of their mother against her. She would never… she could never… It was her turn to drop her head and stare at the slow death in front of them. "Yes, Sokka. I promise, if you… if you…" her hand instinctively reached for her mother's pendant, but it was gone, most likely forever "… we won't come for you."
He smiled then and walked to her side of the extinguished fire, saying, "Thanks, Katara." And swept her up into a hug, holding her for a few seconds and then letting her sit back down again.
He'd tottered to his sleeping bag minutes later, asking if she was going to bed soon. She'd told him later. She wanted to think. Shrugging he rolled over and began snoring. She waited and they came, the incoherent mutterings and thrashing he hadn't experienced in years. She found herself wanting to wake him, to stop whatever nightmare was eating away at his soul, but instinct stopped her. Both tribesmen were used to the nagging thoughts and feelings in the back of their minds - even the things that told them to follow a young villager with their eyes. For Katara, though, it was the screaming woman in the darkness
Sokka was gone, her mind told her emotions, but the floodgates in her eyes did not burst. He's alive, she knew, he's alive. She wanted to yell at Aang, "Turn back! Turn back, that's my brother we're leaving behind!" But her throat was dry and she could still feel the hug.
"Where are we going?" She managed to choke out, her throat felt as if it were to cave in and stop her speech altogether.
"It's not far," Aang called back. "There's a healer's temple somewhere on these mountains."
She couldn't see the mountains and didn't know why they would need a healer. They needed to go back.
Momo, who had been silently perched on Aang's shoulder jumped off and scampered toward her. She wanted to pet him but her arms were heavy, her whole body was heavy but her head was light - light enough to float away. The lemur chirped and hopped on her shoulder, causing her to wince. When she did, he hopped off and stared at her with large spring colored eyes. Katara suddenly noticed the blood on the lemur - the red was dotting his coat.
She was then aware that the blood was hers, running from her shoulder where Aang had tried to tie it off. Where there was a broken arrow shard embedded in her - it was all so very clear now.
In the fray, the Prince had cornered her, Aang, and Sokka. But then another, older man came, and the firebenders clashed. As the firebenders fought, they ran. She wasn't aware of the details, but they were separated. The last time she saw Sokka was when he threw the boomerang into the fray, then like a string attached him to the weapon he followed it into the chaos. Thinking back on him standing tense and resolute on the outside of the battle, he was an image of both their parents - strong like their father, determined like their mother.
She suddenly knew they had to turn back. He was the only thing she had left.
---
The size of the banished prince's ship was laughable compared to a standard Fire Nation vessel. Lieutenant Ji found himself staring enviously at Zhao's ship when it pulled along side them the morning preceding the attack. The casualties they'd suffered from the battle were regrettable, five men, an eighth of the crew, were dead, and six more injured. It wasn't a terrible loss due to the sheer number of soldier's Zhao had set on them. But still… regrettable.
The men were lined up, hands tied behind their backs, as General Iroh was led into Zhao's ship to discuss a settlement on the crew's fate. The men were all aware of the immediate danger that they were in, and the danger their families were in. Zhao would brand them traitors, but unlike the prince, they would face certain death.
Zhao was a bastard, Ji thought murderously in his head over and over again as the commander ordered their ship to be searched. It was blaringly obvious that the commander had lost the prince. Zhao, he assumed, would do everything he could to keep them from the prince and their nation. Blockades, barring from ports… the man was smart, but careless, driven by his greed. Ji had heard on many occasions: Zhao was too quick to assume.
There was a sigh that seemed to escape from Ji when the commander marched on to the smaller vessel, his eyes flashing dangerously. He hadn't won yet - both the Avatar and prince had escaped him. Ji did not like the prince, but he found himself respecting the boy's determination… or was it naivety? The entire crew was aware of the Fire Lord's true intentions when banishing the boy. He was never meant to find the Avatar. He was never expected to. Ji was pleased, in a way, that the avatar had chosen to reveal himself to the prince after a century of hiding. If only the prince could catch him…
"Lieutenant!" Barked a dark firebender from Zhao's ship, and grabbed Ji by the collar. "If you have any information on the traitor, Zuko, or have contacted him, I suggest you speak now. Silence is not golden today."
"I have no more information than you. And I have not had contact with the prince since yesterday morning - before your Commander ordered the attack," Ji said and received a swift punch to the gut. His stomach caved and he bent forward, refusing to fall. He could see the men on either side of him receiving the same treatment.
"Lieutenant," the man said, sneering in Ji's face. "Liars are not treated well in my nation." Another punch was delivered and the lieutenant fought the urge to headbutt the man, free his hands, and burn him to a crisp. Our nation, damn it.
"Enough!" A voice shouted from somewhere in front of Ji.
Ji was released and faced the speaker. It was a middle-aged man wearing an eye patch to the right. The one eyed man glared at the darker man next to Ji and told him to untie the lieutenant. Obviously scoffing, the torturer complied.
"I am Capitan Heika," he said, introducing himself to the freed lieutenant. "I assume you are the officer in charge of this ship, currently."
"Yes," Ji said and bowed. "Ji, Lieutenant, second class, sir."
"Good, good," Heika said and motioned for him to follow. They walked along the deck, Heika ordering the men to lay off the smaller ship's crew. Out of earshot, Heika faced the lieutenant, crossing his arms behind his back. "I assume you have not heard from your prince."
"No." Ji said, feeling an interrogation forming again. He eyed the other man with suspicion.
The captain made a noise acknowledging him. "There is something you must know. There are pressing matters concerning the prince," Heika paused as a private passed them and continued when the man had passed. "He was able to escape Zhao, assisted by those loyal to him. Unfortunately, there is no word on whether he and the prisoner with him survived Zhao's bombardment, we know their craft was sunk…"
Ji was quickly running the information through his mind. If that prince was dead the throne's vacancy would surely go to the princess. He rubbed his temples, the war would ensue after Ozai's death. The princess had proved to be as violent and war hungery as her father, even perhaps more so. Their nation would be in a state of constant war… unless someone else was crowned, but it seemed unlikely. Ji felt his eyes flick toward Zhao's ship.
"…The more pressing matter concerns his survival from here on," Heika continued. "If he managed to survive, which Zhao is certain of, he is on earthbender territory - seeing as he is not here…"
Away from their conversation Ji was vaguely aware of Iroh's return and the freeing of his men. Zhao was glowering behind the old general. The old man had worked his magic again…
Heika noticed the change and sped up his speech, "The prince will die in a matter of days, even if the earthbender's fail to capture him. Both the prince and the prisoner are poisoned."
Again with death. Ji wondered what poison Zhao had used. It was an old custom of the Fire Nation to poison their prisoners, insuring that they would die, even if they escaped. Surely the prince must have guessed…
"Why are you telling me this?" Ji asked as the men on deck began to gather and move back to their ship. He had to know.
"Because, I cannot do anything while under Zhao's nose. I'm asking you, as a man, not as your superior, to bring this up with Iroh," the younger captain said and looked away. "They have less than three weeks."
To Be Continued In…
Chapter Five: Now The Candle Burns At Both Ends
Let the bonding begin… or so Sokka thought. A struggle for dominance in the boy's new relationship" ensues.
[edited 03.14.2009]