Chapter 9: Precious and Fragile Things
Dusk had fallen, fingers of sunlight clawing at the earth, when they finally stopped to rest, Appa breathing heavily from exertion. Wordlessly, they set up camp under the darkening sky.
Zuko raised an arm to light the dead logs he'd gathered together to make a campfire, but a sudden, cold touch against his skin startled him. He turned to see Katara, her eyes unreadable. She had seemed a little more energetic after her brother had gotten her to eat some food, but there was still something that was distinctly… off about her that he couldn't place. She had changed, in some imperceptible way.
"Don't," she said, shaking her head, her long braid swinging from side to side behind her.
"Don't what?" Zuko asked, surprised.
"Don't start a fire," she said simply.
"Are you crazy?" Zuko asked. "How are we supposed to see anything? Cook food? Keep away animals?" Something about the hollowness in Katara's eyes made him nervous.
"The Fire Navy's too close behind us," Katara said calmly. "The smoke from a fire would be too easily seen, especially since we're still out on the beach." She turned away and walked towards her sleeping bag.
Dumbfounded, Zuko stared at her retreating back. She acted as if he'd readily agreed to her ridiculous request.
"Hey!" Zuko said, striding towards Katara, but Aang stepped in front of him.
"Come on, Zuko," he said. "It's okay. We can do without fire for one night. And she's right; it would be easy to spot from a distance."
Zuko gave a low growl, but he acquiesced. There was a bit of logic in Katara's words, and he himself wasn't all too eager for Zula to find them again.
A thin sliver of moon held court in the sky, surrounded by her twinkling attendants. Zuko, lying on his back, trained his eyes on it, the only source of light the four of them had that night.
The no-fire rule Katara had implemented was driving him crazy. Something was seriously wrong with her. Zuko knew Katara could be pretty naïve sometimes (she certainly hadn't wasted any time getting herself kidnapped), but he hadn't taken her for an unreasonable fool. Because that was what her stupid rule was—utterly irrational. What was the point of having no fire? It kept them warm. They needed fire.
Zuko shivered. He needed fire.
Maybe meditating would help him get to sleep.
Zuko headed into the forest. When he judged that he was far away enough from the campsite, he gathered together a small pile of twigs and dry grass. It took several tries for the pile to catch on fire, and Zuko had to lean in close, giving the fire his own breath. Finally, the fire caught, and Zuko fed it some bigger branches. Sighing, Zuko settled down next to the fire, cross-legged. This felt much better.
He tried to clear his mind of all distractions, tried to focus solely on the fire in front of him, but nagging doubts and worries wouldn't leave him alone.
He had made the decision to escape with the Avatar, but he was beginning to wonder if maybe it had been the wrong one. Because now Zula had seen him. Now she knew for sure, or rather, she thought she knew for sure, that he had joined forces with the Avatar. And it wasn't just Zula who knew—the whole Fire Navy ship had probably been informed of his betrayal by now.
It seemed like he was only digging himself a deeper and deeper hole.
Zuko growled. It wasn't his fault that his options had been so limited. He hadn't had the chance to explain to them all what was really going on, that he was probably acting even more in the Fire Nation's best interest than they were. But no.
He'd probably made the right decision. Maybe if it had been anyone but Zula... maybe he could have commanded the men to capture the Avatar. But they answered to Zula, and Zuko wondered how much she had managed to turn the men against him.
They were probably so prejudiced against him that they wouldn't bother to look beneath the shallow, surface appearance. They would just assume what Zula had assumed—that he'd turned his back on his father and the Fire Nation. The idiots. How could they be so stupid as to blindly follow the words of one person? Couldn't they think for themselves, decide for themselves what was truly right for the Fire Nation? You can't always pass judgment based on what you see, Zuko wanted to tell them. Appearances aren't always faithful to truth.
She ran, pushing through the people who kept getting in her way. She had to get to her, had to save her. The heat was so intense, and the smoke... the smoke made her eyes sting and tear, made her fight for every breath... If only she could just rest, rest for just one second--No, she couldn't stop, she had to run faster, faster, had to had to had to
Katara woke up gasping and coughing, the imagined smoke seeming to have crawled into reality and down her throat. She drew in ragged breaths, grasping and massaging her neck. Katara looked frantically around the campsite. There was no fire. There was no smoke. She sighed in relief and willed her tense body to relax. She'd just been having a nightmare, that was all.
Katara reached for her water canteen, but she was disappointed to find it empty, light as air in her hands. Katara frowned. She desperately wanted some water; her throat was so dry. She could try and get some more. Glancing down the beach, Katara saw that she wasn't far from the ocean. But seawater meant salty water, and Katara didn't want to start the fire that would be needed to boil it so that it would be fit to drink.
She could always try to find a nearby stream in the forest. But it was so dark...
Well, it wasn't totally dark, Katara corrected herself. She looked up at the thin crescent moon. It would guide her. Light her way. She would be okay. And she really, really wanted some water.
The light became somewhat muted when she stepped into the forest because it had to filter through the trees, but Katara could hear the faint gurgling of running water. She didn't have to travel very far. It was just up on ahead, and then she could fill her canteen and take a drink. Katara pushed forward, wary of low-hanging branches that jumped into existence as she neared them. She ducked and then stepped over a rotting log. She was getting close; the murmurs of the water were louder now.
And then Katara realized that the light had changed. It wasn't the calm, silvery sheen the moon gave anymore. It was golden and volatile, creating shadows that flickered and danced. Firelight.
Somehow, something must have caught on fire. Katara quickened her step, fear coiling in her stomach. If there were a fire, she had to stop it, stop it from spreading and burning the forest down.
Zuko heard a twig snap behind him. Instantly, he was on his feet, arms raised and at the ready for whatever wild animal was coming towards him.
He was surprised when Katara burst out of the darkness.
"Katara?" Zuko asked in confusion.
Katara stared in shock at Zuko, who was standing next to the fire. Zuko? Zuko was the one who had started the fire? But she had more pressing matters on her mind right now. Katara looked around frantically, her eyes darting wildly around the clearing.
There! The stream she'd heard earlier was only a few feet away. Katara took a couple of steps forward and raised her arms. She was just about to toss enough water on the fire to, hopefully, douse it when a strong hand clamped down on her wrist.
"Just what do you think you're doing?" Zuko hissed, his breath rushing over her cheek.
Katara tried to wrench her arm out of his grasp, but his grip was too tight. She twisted around to face him. His golden eyes were narrowed.
"Putting out the fire that you started," Katara answered. "I thought we agreed, no fire!"
"You're crazy," Zuko retorted. "What do you think's going to happen?"
"Let go of me!" Katara said, tugging at her arm. Zuko thought for a second, then released it. Katara stepped back, away from him. Her eyes met his, and she spoke again. "I don't have to think, Zuko--I know."
"Know what?"
"I know what fire can do," Katara answered slowly.
"What are you talking about?" Zuko asked.
Katara shook her head, refusing to answer. "I don't want to talk about it," she said, turning away to bend water out of the stream again. Zuko's interest was piqued. Was this somehow related to whatever it was that had brought Katara onto Zula's ship? He grabbed her arm again, forcing her to turn around.
"What happened?" he pressed.
"I said, I don't want to talk about it!" Katara repeated, her voice rising.
Zuko studied her. She was angry, yes, but this was definitely an improvement over the lifeless girl who'd lain in the saddle, unable to say anything but whispered "No"'s. Here was an opportunity.
He took a chance and laughed. "Oh, I see," he said. "It doesn't have anything to do with not wanting to be discovered. You're just afraid. You're afraid of a tiny, little fire." That was the key here. He had to anger her even more, get her riled up so that she would talk. Zuko waited for Katara's reaction.
"This has nothing to do with being afraid!" Katara cried. "You don't even know what you're talking about! You have no idea."
"So tell me," Zuko challenged. "Why are you so terrified of fire?"
Katara let out a strangled cry, anger twisting up inside her. What the hell did Zuko know, anyway? Who was he to judge her? "Because!" Katara finally burst out. "Because when you guys left, the Fire Navy came."
It was a start, but Zuko had already guessed that part. The thing that confused him was that he knew that Katara had witnessed the first attack. She hadn't been this badly shaken up. There had to be more.
"And? What else happened, Katara?"
But she was shaking her head again, her lips pressed tightly together.
Zuko took a step towards her. "What? They captured a few people? Broke down a couple of the outer walls?"
Katara let out a dry, humorless laugh. Did he really think that the Fire Nation was that merciful? How innocent of him. How naïve and utterly, utterly stupid of him. "They killed, Zuko," she said harshly. "They piled up wood in the sickroom and set it on fire."
Sickroom? With the wounded patients? The Fire Nation wouldn't do that. There was no honor in killing the innocent and injured, people who didn't pose a threat. She was making it up.
"Don't be ridiculous," Zuko said with a short laugh. "The Fire Nation wouldn't hurt the innocent if they didn't have to. They have more honor than that."
The anger was growing again. How could he possibly be so blind? There was nothing honorable about the way the Fire Nation was fighting the war. He was deluding himself, and it made her mad. Katara grasped at the anger, welcomed it, wanted it to build up, bigger and bigger, inside her and take over her being. Anger was good. Anger kept the pain away.
"They set it on fire," Katara repeated. "And the fire spread—"
"Shut up!" Zuko said fiercely. "Shut up!"
"The fire spread," Katara continued. "The fire spread, and the people were running around and screaming, but some of them couldn't run, Zuko!"
"Stop!" Zuko shouted. She was delirious. Her talk was nothing but the raving of a mad lunatic.
"Honor? Where's your Fire Nation's honor now?" Katara shrieked. Anger was good. It burned within her, a raging fire that gave her energy and life. She could handle the anger. "Nothing about that was honorable! The people... they were helpless... they were trapped! Airi was trapped!"
Zuko fought the urge to clap his hands over his ears. It was a childish gesture, one that wasn't effective at all, but oh, he wanted her to stop talking now.
"She—she died!" The word Katara had been avoiding tore itself out of her throat. And now that it was out, she couldn't stop thinking it, over and over. "Died, Zuko! The fire killed her! She's dead, dead, dead—"
Each repetition of the word was like a knife stab. "I don't believe you!" Zuko snapped, amber eyes flashing with fury. He grabbed her arm in a vicious grip, wanting to shake some sense into her, make her confess that what she was saying was false, that she'd been lying to him, that the little girl was still alive because she hadn't been trying to hurt anyone.
Katara cried out in pain, and the sound startled him as he remembered Zula cruelly yanking Katara's hair. Zuko quickly let go of Katara, as if he'd been burned.
But the fear didn't leave her eyes, and now he could see panic creeping in as she stared at something beyond his shoulder. Zuko whirled around.
He'd been so absorbed in their conversation that he hadn't noticed when the fire he'd built had started to spread. Several trees were already on fire, blackened and half-crumbling into ash, and flames licked at other trees as the fire caught on dangling branches and traveled across fallen leaves and sticks. Smoke was starting to cloud up the small clearing.
It would be useless work to try and stop it. It had already grown out of control. The only thing to do was to go back to the campsite, wake up the other two, and leave right away.
"Come on," Zuko said, trying to keep his voice calm. He turned to head back to the campsite, expecting Katara to follow him, but he stopped when he didn't hear her coming behind him. Zuko turned around. Katara didn't seem to have heard him. She was pivoting slowly, taking in the destruction that raged around her. Tree after tree was catching on fire as the flames spread, lighting first one branch and then another.
"Come on!" Zuko roared again, grabbing Katara's arm. He tried to pull her away from the fire, towards safety, but she resisted his tugging. "What's the matter with you? Do you want to die out here?" Zuko screamed in frustration, pulling harder. He managed to drag Katara along for a couple of fumbling steps, but she seemed to be ignoring him completely.
Zuko turned his head slowly to look at her, what her eyes were looking at. He followed her gaze to the tiny stream that gurgled and frothed a short distance away.
Instantly, Zuko knew what Katara wanted to do.
"No," Zuko said firmly, pulling on Katara. She stood rooted to the spot.
I have to douse the fire put out the fire water water is good must get to water
"Come on!" Zuko yelled again. Why the hell was she being so idiotic? Didn't she know that they had to get away? Not only was the fire dangerous, but the smoke would be a beacon to whatever ships were out on the ocean tonight. Frustrated, Zuko scooped an arm around her waist and heaved Katara off the ground. If she wasn't going to move on her own, then he would carry her himself. Zuko hefted her higher on his hip and started to run, but she was flailing in his arms, kicking and punching him.
"Let go of me!" Katara yelled. "I have to put the fire out!" She tore herself out of his grip and ran back towards the stream.
Zuko was sorely tempted to just let the idiot girl do whatever the hell she wanted. He certainly wasn't planning on getting burnt to a crisp in a forest fire, and he'd already tried once, anyway. That should definitely satisfy his conscience.
But Aang and Sokka would never agree to leave without her, and the bison, his only feasible chance of escape, wouldn't take him away to safety without the Avatar.
Cursing, Zuko ran after Katara, trying to hold his breath in the thickening smoke.
Katara concentrated on the water and started the push and pull motion she remembered trying to teach Aang so long ago. She hadn't been able to do it then; she'd actually gotten jealous when Aang had picked it up so quickly, but now…
The wall of water grew taller and taller. Katara pushed harder, willing the wave to stretch even higher, gathering up all the available water in the stream. The water towered over her now, but Katara still kept going, ignoring the smoke that stung at her eyes and choked her and the heat that was closing in on her. She just had to keep her mind on the water, and she would be okay.
Zuko, one hand over his mouth, tried to wave aside the thick smoke that obscured his vision. He finally spotted Katara, who was locked in some kind of repeated movement. He stopped short when he saw the gigantic wave that loomed over her.
With a little sigh of relief, Katara closed her eyes, held her breath, and let go. Sweet release in the form of icy water that crashed down around her, through her, pure ecstasy soaking her clothes and skin
He wasn't quick enough to avoid the water as it flooded the clearing. The chilly water came down on top of him. He breathed in at the wrong moment and started coughing, choking on the water he'd accidentally sucked into his lungs. Even as he fought for breath, Zuko couldn't help but think that choking on the cool water was preferable to choking on the smoke. The water level quickly decreased as the waterline dropped from his chest down to his knees and then ankles, finally flowing away.
Katara turned around slowly. Zuko stood frozen, his arms limp against his sides, his hands half-curled. He was staring at her. She met his gaze.
"See?" she choked out. She spread her arms out, encompassing the steam and smoke swirling together, the burnt trees and scattered ash. "All fire does is destroy!"
Zuko had no answer for her.
"You created this," she said, her voice dropping to a whisper. Zuko wondered if it was an accusation. Was she blaming him?
"Yes," he admitted cautiously.
"You can't even control your own fire!" That was definitely an accusation. Katara stared hard at him, her blue eyes full of hatred. "You can be a powerful firebender, maybe even a master at firebending, but what good is it if you can only start fires, Zuko?" Whatever energy she'd had seemed to have dissipated along with the fire and water, draining out of her and leaving her weak and defenseless. Katara whispered softly, "You can start fires, Zuko, but can you put them out?"
She had started shaking now, her shoulders trembling as she backed up against the rough bark of the tree. Down she sank, down until she was sitting in the dirt, her knees drawn up against her chest. Her hair had come undone, and it hung, limp and lifeless around her face. Zuko could see her eyes wide, beautiful blue unseeing.
She was tired. Exhausted, probably, and unable to deal with anything more than just breathing to stay alive. Zuko stood still, hesitant and unsure.
Why had she been so stupid? There was definitely something wrong with her. What kind of moron would try to douse a raging forest fire all on her own?
And yet…
Zuko lifted his head and turned slowly, staring at the forest around him. Nearly two dozen trees had been burned down, smoke still lazily drifting from the piles of ash. Broken branches littered the clearing, and small flames still burned here and there.
But she had won. The fire wasn't a threat anymore. She, with her water, had stopped it.
All fire does is destroy!
Katara's harsh accusation came back to him, cacophony ringing in the silence.
You can't even control your own fire!
As hard as it was for him to admit, she was right, wasn't she? He had started the fire, but it had spread beyond his control. No. He'd needed her to restrain his fire, keep it from becoming too powerful, too destructive.
Guilt stole up on him, snatched him when he didn't expect it. It was fire that had reduced Katara to the broken girl who sat in front of him now. Zuko tried to regard her with indifference, but it was impossible.
Zuko unclenched his hands and turned them over, his eyes studying his hands. Calluses dotted his palms, and he could see a small burn on his finger. His hands looked so innocent. For all the blisters and small cuts and scratches, they were still soft to the touch.
It was all a lie. These were the hands that gave birth to fire. These were the hands that created nothing but raging terror and destruction.
Why hadn't she run?
…Why didn't I?
A sniffle interrupted his thoughts. Katara had started crying. She was shaking even more violently now, tears coming faster and faster down her cheeks.
Panic gripped him. Zuko had absolutely no idea how to deal with crying girls. His first instinct was to run back to the camp, to wake up Aang and Sokka and drag them here, but then he was afraid to move, afraid to leave her alone.
A cold wind blew through the clearing, chilling his bare skin. Zuko saw Katara shiver. She must have felt cold, with her wet clothes.
Zuko spoke, trying to keep his voice even.
"You must be cold. I'm going to light a small fire to keep us warm, okay?"
When Katara didn't reply, Zuko crouched down in front of her and gathered together a small pile of twigs and dry grass. He placed his hands over the pile, but Katara uttered a soft scream.
"No!" she cried. "Didn't you learn anything at all?"
Zuko froze. Neither of them spoke, time dripping by in total silence save Katara's slight sniffling.
She hadn't been lying. Everything she'd said to him was true. The Fire Nation attack, the people burning, the little girl's death. All of it. That was the only explanation for the difference he saw in Katara now. The hollowness he saw in her eyes, her fear of fire, the way she wasn't quite as carefree anymore.
If all of what she'd said was true, then what did that mean for him? Zuko had studied warfare, of course, and he'd prepared to eventually join in the war himself. But when he had almost become of age to go off and fight, he'd been banished. Exiled. Traveling on his own ship, Zuko realized now, was probably a lot less bloody than what his life would have been like if he'd been battling.
He wasn't entirely inexperienced. Sailing on the ocean had inevitably caused run-ins with bands of pirates, but killing had always been minimal, his men only doing it when it was absolutely necessary. Zuko had never seen the Fire Nation sack a city, murdering in cold blood.
What kind of war was this, then? Could it be that…
But Zuko refused to finish the thought.
The wind blew again, and he could see Katara shiver even harder. He didn't know what he should do.
And then he remembered what Katara had done for the little girl when she'd been crying after waking from a nightmare.
Slowly, carefully, Zuko crouched down in the dirt next to Katara, holding his breath. Her chin rested on top of her knees, her eyes looking straight ahead and away from him; he could see droplets of water still clinging to her eyelashes. More drops of water covered her cheeks, and Zuko wondered, if he touched each one, if he could discern whether they were warm or cold, whether they were tears or just water.
"I believe you," he whispered softly.
When she didn't move away, Zuko, heart pounding, lifted an arm and cautiously, oh so carefully, brought it around Katara's shoulders. He let out a sigh of relief just as his skin was about to meet hers—
She slapped him. Hard. Across the face.
"Don't touch me," she hissed. "Don't touch me, you filthy Firebender!"
And then, in one fluid motion, she stood up and ran, darting through the forest back towards camp. Away from the smoldering remains of the fire. Away from him.
Zuko straightened, standing still as he saw the blue figure disappear into the darkness. He slowly brought up a hand against his stinging cheek. It was turning numb now.
Of course he'd seen her hand coming. She had been weakened, tired from her bending. Her movements had been slowed by her exhaustion. She hadn't been quick enough to take him by surprise. He had known exactly what she was going to do. He could have dodged her. He could have easily grabbed her hand before it made contact with his cheek.
But he hadn't. Because he remembered the way she'd cried out in pain when he'd gripped her arm, probably hard enough to leave bruises. Because Zuko felt like he deserved it. Deserved the pain. So he'd let her hit him.
Zuko gazed at the small fires that struggled to remain alive despite the lack of fuel to burn.
You can start fires, Zuko, but can you put them out?
Mastering firebending was all about control, Zuko remembered thinking. She didn't know what she was talking about. He knew control. He knew the intense concentration it took to control every deliberate movement his body made, every breath that he took. He was always completely focused when he trained.
Zuko refused to think about what, exactly, had been distracting him when the fire had started to spread out of control. Instead, he walked over to the nearest fire and stared down at it. It was almost gone now. Nothing left but cold, dead ash that refused to burn. Zuko raised a foot and brought it down on the fire. With a sudden frenzy, he stomped on it until he put it out. Killed it. All that remained was the ash, gray smoke curling off it.
Slowly, methodically, Zuko went around to each fire and put them all out. When he was done, he looked around the clearing again to make sure that no fire remained. Then he walked over to the stream, crouching down next to it. Zuko cupped the chilly water in his hands and brought it up to his face, cleansing his skin of soot. The coolness felt good against his still-stinging cheek. He took some water and rubbed at the dirt on his arms. When Zuko was done, he stood up.
With heavy feet and a heavier heart, Zuko slowly walked back towards camp.
A/N: I'm so sorry for the late update; RL kept getting in the way. Maybe the two chapters make up for it? Chapter 8 was getting really long, so I thought it would work better split in two. I had a hard time writing this, but your reviews are definitely very encouraging, and they're seriously what keep me going. Thank you, and don't stop!