Disclaimer: I do not own ATLA or its characters.
The Widow
Aang stretched his hands above his head. A few hours of sleep had left him energized. Or, energized enough, anyway. He had awoken to Katara and Suki softly scolding Sokka about his lack of sleep. A bit ironic, Aang thought, since they must have been out all night at the morgue. He began to dress quickly, pulling on his pants to catch them before they scurried off to continue with the investigation.
Katara saved him the trouble, parting the furs in the door and gliding into the room. She stilled when she the scars on his chest, her eyes wide.
He flushed with embarrassment, and dragged a hand along the back of his neck. "Sokka says that they make me look tough," he joked weakly.
A little hardness formed in the corner of her eyes. "Tough," she repeated faintly. She sat down on the mattress, her back to him. "We examined Katsuro's body. Nothing. We're waiting for Kele to arrange an interview with Amka. He said he'll come get us when she's ready. An hour or so."
"And Tokala organized the Council meeting?"
"As far as I know," she replied. "No word from them yet, though. If you're feeling rested enough, that's probably a good place to start."
It wasn't a dismissal, exactly, but he could tell that her walls were up. He reached for her, tentatively placing one hand on her shoulder. Her skin was cold, and he wanted to pull her to him. Their argument had only been twelve hours before, and much had happened since then. He could see the fragility of her emotions as if they hovered in the air above her. "Have you gotten any sleep?"
Katara shook her head. "I was going to lie down while we were waiting for Kele."
He scooted closer to her, his heart aching when she stiffened imperceptibly. "Katara, I- I'm sorry about your father. We'll get him back, I promise."
"I know." She stood suddenly, and he jumped, startled. "Why would he do that?" she asked, turning to him. "Why would he just give himself up like that? There had to be another way- and I tried to tell him that, and he just waved me off, like I was nothing-"
"You weren't nothing- you aren't nothing, and your father doesn't feel that way about you," Aang interrupted. "If it's any consolation, Sokka is as frustrated as you are. But, I think your father felt that he was doing the best he could in the circumstances."
"He made a decision that impacted all of us."
Aang grimaced. "Was there really time to talk about it?"
She looked down at her hands. "We could have figured it out. He just decided for us. He wasn't my dad, then, he was Head Chieftain Hakoda."
"And that's it, isn't it?" he asked gently. "You were forced to live with someone else's choice between duty and love."
The mattress dipped when she dropped down next to him, her shoulders slumped. "It sounds so infantile."
"It's not infantile-"
"Please don't, Aang," Katara said, laughing mirthlessly. "I am under no misconceptions. We've been working together for eight years. In a relationship for seven. I thought it would get easier when we got married, but I should have known it would get harder."
He wrapped his arm around her back, and pulled her to him. "Harder, maybe. But not impossible."
She wiped at tears that threatened to leak from the corners of her eyes. "I know what you're dealing with, and I know you didn't have a choice. I want to support you, always. I'm sorry about our argument."
"Me, too," he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to her temple.
Katara brought her knees to her chest. "I'm just afraid. Afraid that the price of you being the Avatar will one day be too high."
"That won't happen," Aang promised vehemently.
"I'd like to believe that."
"Then believe it."
One of his hands went to her cheek, but he saw the doubt in her eyes, the fear. Her hand curled around his wrist, and she closed her eyes.
A knock sounded from the doorway.
"Aang?" Sokka called through the furs that hung from the frame. "Tokala just sent a runner. He wants to know if you and I are able to join him at the Council. Some measures need to be taken that he'd like our input for."
"I'll be right out," Aang replied. His thumb stroked Katara's cheek. "We're still learning, Katara," he whispered. "Even after eight years. There's still so much to learn."
Her head came to rest on his shoulder, and with its weight, he felt a little of the tension drain away.
"You were right, to some extent," he continued quietly. "There will be times I'll have to make difficult choices, and some of those choices might push you to the wayside. But, when the decision is mine- Aang's, not the Avatar's- I can, and will, always choose you. I know it's not much, but... I hope it's enough."
She pressed a kiss into his palm. "It's enough." Her hand dropped to his chest, still bare, and traced the pink lines. "They do look tough," she teased softly.
The last time Aang had been to the Southern Water Tribe Council, the Tribesmen had been fierce and sleek-looking, parkas decorated in beads and claws, furs and feathers. They were proud and powerful, a testament to the strength and durability of the Tribes. Now, the Tribesmen of both the North and the South sat exhausted, unshaven, decorative ornaments missing. They were solemn and quiet, worried looks flashing through blue eyes.
"Avatar Aang," Tokala greeted as he and Sokka pushed through the double doors. "Master Sokka." There was a tangible note of relief in his voice. "I'm glad to see you both on your feet again."
Aang nodded his acknowledgement, settling in his seat to the left of the empty Head Chieftain's chair. Sokka stilled at the sight of it, and Aang felt a stab of sympathy on behalf of his brother.
"What have you established so far?" Aang asked Tokala. "You were left with a long list."
"Yes," Tokala replied, his relief giving way to subtle irritation. "Your wife is very... thorough."
A rumble of surprise went through the chamber. Tokala as good as admitted to being ordered around by a woman. Not just any woman, Aang thought with fierce affection. "She's good at what she does. Your progress?"
"Both Northern and Southern Warriors have been mobilized," Tokala reported. "Though, their application is what we're currently debating. A mass en force might send the wrong message, but spreading them too thin won't be effective against so dangerous an adversary."
Aang frowned, his hand going to his chin as he turned the question over in his mind.
"How many warriors do we have?" Sokka broke in. He still stood at Aang's shoulder.
"Over two and fifty hundred Southern warriors. And, an additional hundred Northerners," one of Tokala's men replied, reading the numbers from a scroll.
Sokka's voice was the level calm of an experienced soldier. "Circle the village in rings, like a bulls-eye. It will provide layered protection. The Warriors can advance or retreat as necessary without worrying about their backs going undefended."
"But the Spirit will see," Tokala protested.
"It's a risk we'll have to take."
Aang blew out a quiet breath. "I'm hoping to avoid a fight altogether."
"But we still need to be ready," Sokka replied.
"On that note," Tokala added, "who will lead the Warriors? And, more importantly... who will lead the Southern Water Tribe, in Hakoda's absence?"
Aang frowned. "Does Hakoda not have protocol for this situation, after all?"
"He does," Tokala hedged.
Sokka furrowed his brows. "Then... enact it."
"If the Head Chieftain falls in battle, the role goes to his highest ranking general," Tokala explained.
"That would be Bato. Where is he?"
Tokala straightened. "Organizing the mobilization of Southern forces. But, our situation, while doubtlessly dire, isn't so desperate as to hand the leadership of the South over to an exclusively military entity. The second part of his protocol- when time is on our side, such as now- involves the nomination of candidates, and a Council majority vote."
Grimacing, Aang recalled Katara and Tokala's previous argument. "We've already discussed this, Tokala. This isn't the time for a political move. And, time really isn't on our side."
"Am I so untrustworthy, Avatar Aang?" Tokala asked through clenched teeth. "Would my leadership be such a terrible thing? Nearly a third of your fighting force are my own warriors. I fought in the Siege of the North. I have extensive political experience."
Aang stood slowly. "There are twelve equally as qualified Southern leaders in this room alone." He gestured around him to the Southerners, who rumbled their agreement.
One of the Southern men, older, with a close-cropped beard and a deep blue tunic, stood. "We already have a candidate." He smiled wickedly. "To save time and trouble, of course, Councilman Tokala."
Tokala's lip curled.
"Who?" Aang asked.
"An experienced man," the older man said expansively. "One with extensive wartime experience, in both pitched battles and guerilla warfare, as well as varied political experience."
He pointed with one broad finger at Aang, but Aang shook his head vehemently. "It shouldn't be me."
"He's not pointing at you," came Sokka's soft voice from behind him.
"We nominate Sokka, of the Southern Water Tribe," the older man announced.
Katara squared her shoulders as she and Suki made their way through the ornate doors of Tokala's home. Despite the distance from their Northern home, the interior was expensively decorated in Northern Water Tribe motifs. Murals of the Ocean and Moon Spirits coated the entire back wall of the room, and deep purples and blues covered every pillow and tapestry. Kele paced around the back of the room, but Katsuro's widow, Amka, sat demurely in a plush chair, a tray of tea waiting on the side table next to her. At the sight of Katara and Suki, she stood fluidly, the picture of grace, and inclined her head politely.
"Welcome," she said. Her voice was gentle, oddly musical, like the ringing of chimes. "Can I get you some tea?"
Katara and Suki both politely declined as servants in purple livery slid chairs beneath them.
"That will be all," Amka informed the staff, and they filed out, shutting the heavy doors behind them.
"Amka," Katara started. "I understand you've just gone through a terrible loss, and we're so sorry to have to drag you through it again. But, you may have information that will be integral in catching your late husband's killer. We need you to be as honest as possible."
Amka inclined her head gracefully. "Of course."
"Let's start by going over the events leading up to your husband's death," Suki suggested gently as she flipped open the heavy file folder she had brought with her. "The file here says that you yourself discovered his body. When was the last time you saw him, before that?"
"We shared a late dinner the evening before, and tea in the drawing room before we retired for the night."
"What did you talk about? Did he mention anything strange? Did he seem out of sorts?"
Amka pursed her lips. "He was agitated, concerned... certain members of the Council were not as receptive to his revisions of the Unity Act as he had hoped. The legislation occupied his thoughts to the exclusion of nearly all else in the days leading up to his death."
"What were his main concerns?" Katara asked.
"Katsuro did not deign to speak with me on political matters," Amka replied, turning away to pour herself some tea. "He is... was... of a similar mind with my uncle on the matters of women in politics."
Katara managed to withhold her comment on that particular subject. "Did he mention what was bothering him? Anything you might have noticed, or overheard?"
"I'm afraid not," Amka answered between sips.
Suki shifted in her seat, flipping through the folder's pages. "Did you share a room? A bed?"
Amka coughed into her tea, and Kele strode angrily from the back of the room. "My cousin has kindly agreed to assist with your investigation," he seethed, bristling. "Pay her the respect she's due."
"That question is pertinent to the investigation," Suki answered coolly. "If she shared a room with him, then she was there at the time of his death. Surely that's information worth knowing?"
Kele spluttered, his cheeks bright red.
"You were invited along under the condition that you not interfere," Katara added, her gaze direct. "If you can't keep that condition, you can leave."
"It's alright, Kele," Amka said wearily. She turned back to Suki. "My husband and I shared a suite. Adjoining chambers. But, no. We did not share a bed."
Suki's brow raised imperceptibly with interest. "I see," she said tactfully. "But, you retired at the same time from tea, so... you must have seen him enter his room. Perhaps even seen his bedroom."
Amka shifted uncomfortably. "Not that night. We left tea at different times. We had... we had argued."
"About?"
The Northern woman frowned. "Something- something he said."
Katara felt a pang of sympathy, acute to the point of pain, at the woman's circumstances. "What did he say?" she asked softly, morbid curiosity overtaking her.
"Katsuro felt that my behavior as a wife was lacking." Amka's eyes darted between Katara and Suki. "Please, don't make me relive that. Is it not sufficient to say that he and I quarreled?"
Suki gave Katara a questioning look, and Katara nodded once. "Okay," Suki agreed. "We can come back to it later, if need be."
The tension in Amka's shoulders relieved visibly.
"Can you walk us through your discovery of his body?" Katara probed gently. "How was he laying, what did he look like? Was the room any different? Any details you may have noticed. Anything could prove to be the information that we need."
Amka nodded, though her eyes were tight in the corners, and her lips were quirked downward. "I went to find him- we had an early engagement with the finance secretary, but Katsuro never came to breakfast. When I came into the room, Katsuro was laying face down on the rug by the bed. I ran to him, flipped him over. His face was... frightened. His eyes were wide. As if he died in pain." Amka's expression flickered, shifted momentarily, but Katara didn't recognize the look. "The room was otherwise as I had last seen it."
"Was the bed made?" Suki asked curiously.
Amka regarded her blankly. "I... didn't really think to look. But, now that you mention it... yes. It was." Her eyes cast downward, and Katara frowned at the look.
"So, a servant may have seen him before you, possibly alive and well," Suki noted, more to herself than anyone else. "Or, possibly been the cause of death." She glanced to Katara. "Or, he never went to bed at all."
"The case file also said there was a burn mark on the wall," Katara reminded her.
Amka blanched visibly. "It was old. Not from that night."
"What was it from?" Katara probed.
Kele tutted disapprovingly. "She already told you, it was from another time. Not pertinent."
"We decide what's pertinent," Suki told him firmly.
"Why don't you dive into her childhood, too, then?" Kele snapped. "Why don't you ask her about the day she was born? What is off-limits?"
"Kele," Amka warned.
He crossed his arms, censured, but he eyed Suki angrily. Suki held his gaze, her head high.
"What was the burn mark from?" Katara asked again, suspicious of Kele's outburst.
"An old argument," Amka answered over Kele's angry mutterings. "Katsuro had very specific ideas on what a wife should or should not be- particularly a wife such as myself. And, he was not afraid to make his point. Emphatically."
Suki gave her a sympathetic look. "Is that what your argument the night before his death was about?"
Amka nodded mutely.
"What do you mean, 'a wife such as yourself'?" Katara asked before she could stop herself.
"An arranged marriage." Amka straightened regally, as if her countenance could soften the indignity. "'Bought and paid for', according to him."
"He said what?" Katara exclaimed, furious. She felt a tug at her arm. In her indignation she had jumped to her feet, and Suki was tugging at her sleeve to pull her back down into her chair.
"Easy," Suki murmured. She turned back to Kele and Amka. "Maybe we should take a few minutes to cool down?" When they agreed, Suki flipped the file shut, her fingers sliding along the thick edge. "Ouch!" she exclaimed suddenly. She brought her index finger to her mouth, sucking tenderly. "Paper cut." She rolled her eyes.
"Is it deep?" Katara asked.
Suki shrugged, grimacing, and held out her hand so that they could see the thin slice in the pad of her figner.
Katara pulled water from the nearby teapot to heal her, but Amka stood gracefully and went to Suki. She cradled Suki's hand in one palm, and gently ran her own thumb along the slice. The skin knitted together, as smooth as if the cut had never existed at all.
A cut like Suki's was easy enough to heal. Katara could have done it, though perhaps not quite as quickly.
But Amka hadn't used so much as a drop of water. Nothing.
And Katara had recognized the pull, the power. She'd used it herself, years and years before. And vowed never to do so again.
"It's time to vote," a grizzled Tribesman called, standing from his seat. "All in favor of Councilman Tokala, of the Northern Water Tribe?"
A flurry of hands raised, some Southern, but most Northern, each man straining to count the votes before they could lower their hands. With the men dotted and scattered around the room as they were, it was difficult to tell whether or not Tokala had the majority.
"Nine," the Tribesman counted. "All in favor of Master Sokka, of the Southern Water Tribe?"
Aang withheld his hand. It wasn't his place to vote on the matter. Instead, he clenched his fist as the Tribesman nodded around the room, silently counting votes. The older man turned to Sokka, a tiny, triumphant smile on his wizened lips. "Fourteen," he announced. "You have the majority... Head Chieftain."
Even Tokala inclined his head in deference, though Aang didn't miss the frown. "Head Chieftain," the Northerner murmured.
Sokka raised his chin, and squared his shoulders. Then he walked slowly, decisively to his father's empty chair, and sat down. "Let's get to work."
Aang waited until the Council filed out, until they were turning down the alleyway to his missing father-in-law's house, before he shook Sokka's shoulder triumphantly. "That was amazing," he congratulated him. "You were perfect. The perfect choice."
Sokka flushed with pride. "I can't believe it," he admitted.
"You were perfect," Aang said again, grinning. "Spirits, Sokka... Katara's going to be so proud of you. And your father, when he comes back." He gave his brother a sidelong glance. "Suki, too."
"Let's not forget why I got voted in in the first place," Sokka grumbled, his smile fading.
"Allow me to briefly celebrate the one positive thing that's happened since we arrived here."
They talked idly as they made their way back to Hakoda's house, discussing plans and reactions and the trials that still lay ahead. Their conversation broke off abruptly, though, when they pushed through the heavy furs of the front door. Katara and Suki were sitting in the kitchen, and tension rolled from them in waves. Suki's arms were crossed, her foot tapping the ground impatiently, but Katara looked pale. Frightened.
"Katara." Aang went to her, sliding one hand onto her shoulder. She brought her own hand to cover his, and he could feel a nervous tremble. "Is everything alright? What's happened?"
"I'd like to know, myself," Suki grumbled.
Sokka sat down in the chair next her, and gave her a questioning look.
"Katara cut our interview with Amka short," Suki explained with impatience. "Made us leave. Wouldn't explain why until you guys got here. I've been waiting twenty minutes," she added under her breath.
Aang frowned. "What happened?"
Katara drew a deep breath. He could feel her shoulders rise and fall under his hand, feel the strain there. "Amka is a bloodbender."
There was a stunned silence. Even Suki knew the seriousness of the accusation, though she hadn't been present for the group's encounter with Hama during the war.
"Are you sure?" Sokka asked suddenly. "It's not a full moon. Maybe you're mistaken."
"I'm not," Katara murmured. "But... it's a bit different." She looked up at Aang, biting at her lip as she struggled to find the right words. "There are many sub-styles of bending, right?"
He nodded. "Healing, metalbending, sandbending, lightning bending... energy bending. I'm sure there's more."
"It's like that," Katara explained, her voice small. "Healing and waterbending aren't the same. With waterbending, I push and pull, and the water goes where I tell it. I command it to move with absolute control. With healing, it's more like... like working within the body. Coaxing it to accelerate regeneration, encouraging the natural healing process. But the body itself is doing all the work. I'm just providing a firm suggestion." She turned to Aang. "That's why it took so long to heal you, after Azula shot you with lightning. I had to encourage your body to recuperate from... death, basically."
Aang practically shuddered at the memory. "I understand."
"This isn't that," Katara explained. "Amka is using a sub-style of bloodbending. When Hama used it, it was like waterbending. She used the fluids in the body exactly like I'd use water in a fight. Pushing and pulling. Brutal on the organs, painful in the extreme. But Amka's not controlling the blood like a fighter. She's controlling the blood like a healer, actually controlling the regeneration of skin and tissue. The body isn't doing the work. She is." She gestured to Aang's newly healed chest. "She's training Chenoa and the others in the same style."
Sokka's hand rubbed his chin almost impatiently. "Why couldn't you sense it with them, then?"
"I don't know," Katara admitted. "I don't think Chenoa, Elu, or Kasa really understand what Amka is doing. I think they're using a sort of blend between the two styles." She bit her lip. "Amka healed a cut of Suki's- it wasn't that deep, I'll admit, but still- she just healed it right up in a split second, like it was never there. No scar. Nothing. Chenoa and the other girls, they healed Aang very quickly, but they still left a scar. They're not using the blood. They're using water at it's tiniest, smallest increment. Still technically Waterbending."
"And how are they able to do it when it's not a full moon?" Sokka demanded.
Katara glared at him. "I don't know that either. Maybe because... with Hama's style of bloodbending, you're battling the body- the will- of the other person. Wresting control from them, so you need the strength of the full moon to aid you. You can fight lifting your arms, but you can't fight the healing process. It happens outside of your control."
"It's a stretch," Sokka said slowly. "But... we've seen stranger things." He sat back with a huff of breath, and the room fell into silence.
Aang was the first to break it. "This must be what Kiviuq was talking about," he said. "The secret, unnatural power."
"But, I thought you all said that Hama was the first to invent it," Suki objected. "Wouldn't he have noticed it, then?"
"I can't speak as to why Kiviuq didn't know about Hama- but I always thought it was strange that Hama was the first Waterbender who ever thought of bloodbending," Sokka said. "What if... what if the Southern Water Tribe created it thousands of years ago, and then Kiviuq intervened? After that, the Waterbenders of the South quietly discouraged any signs of bloodbending." He looked around grimly. "Then, the war came, and the Southern Waterbender population was more or less decimated. They forgot the accord."
The implications of that statement settled over them. Each person shifted uncomfortably in their chair as another realization descended over them. "Amka killed her husband," Katara said finally.
"For what reason, though?" Sokka asked.
"Any number of reasons," Suki returned. "The method may be unorthodox, but the crime itself? Not that uncommon."
Katara wrapped her arms around herself protectively. "I can think of a slew of reasons," she muttered darkly. But... if we accuse her, she could do to any of us what she did Katsuro."
"Amka isn't the only one who might fight back," Sokka added. "Tokala is very protective of her."
"Kele, too," Suki murmured.
Katara wiped at her sweaty palms. "And we'll still have to decide what to do with her afterward." She glanced around nervously. "Giving her to Kiviuq will almost certainly lead to her death."
Aang sat down heavily in the chair beside her. "We can't decide anything until we have confirmations, not suspicions."
"So..." Suki began, "we confront Amka?"
Aang and Sokka nodded grimly.
Suki leaned back resignedly in her chair. "This is going to get ugly."
When Sokka and Suki had stood from the table to prepare, to ready themselves for the fight that Katara did not doubt lay ahead of them, she remained at the table, drowning in her thoughts. Bloodbending, in any form, left a bad taste in her mouth, painful memories and moments of shame that surrounded her heart and mind like a fist. Would she able to leave this fight without bloodbending again? After Yan-Ra... after all of that, she'd sworn never to do it again.
That had been one of her lowest points during the war, lower even than her fight with Hama.
A hand cupped her cheek, and she almost jumped. Aang. She'd forgotten he was there. Her eyes met his.
"Everything will be alright," he murmured softly.
She looked down. "The last time we fought a bloodbender together, you almost died."
He gave her a wry smile, one she knew was meant to ease her dark mood. "Add it to the list."
She returned his smile with a pointed look, but she couldn't glare at him for long. Her mood wavered, and she fell against him, leaning into his chest, her hands running along his new scars. She could feel the long lines under the soft spun fabric of his robes.
"Everything will be alright," he said again.
"I think we're going to need the Avatar for this," she whispered against him. "Not... not Aang."
He wrapped his arms tightly against her, understanding her meaning. "I think we're going to need Katara. You might be the only one able to defend us from her. And, besides... even if she did kill her husband, I don't want to hurt her."
"She won't know how to fight," Katara deduced.
"What makes you say that?"
"She's older than me," she explained. "Born and raised in the North. She has this technique- which was dangerous enough to potentially kill her Firebender husband. But, she's not trained in combat."
Aang nodded above her. "Even so... we'll still need you."
"You'll always have me. Always."
She pulled on her gloves with the decisiveness, the conviction, of a warrior, flexing her hands within the supple leather. Her eyes were far away, but he knew exactly where. Tokala's mansion. The coming fight. Suki had many faces, and Sokka had seen most of them- if not all. But this one was the one that inspired confidence, courage... love.
She pursed her lips when she caught him watching, and his cheeks tinged pink. That wasn't what he'd come to her for.
"You should be getting ready," she noted offhandedly. Her eyes dropped to his shoulders, one brow raised. "Your left pauldron is crooked."
"I'll take care of it in a moment," he said. "I came to... to apologize. For last night."
Suki didn't say anything, merely adjusted her vambraces.
"I don't... I know that everything that happened was because of me. I know that I hurt you." He frowned. "But, that's the last thing I ever wanted."
"We should be focusing on the mission," Suki said without looking at him. "Time for this later."
"Forgive me for being morbid," Sokka almost drawled, "but based on the last fight I was in, I may not get another chance."
"And why do we have to talk about it?" she asked, suddenly vehement. "No- don't look at me like that, I really want to know why."
He opened and closed his mouth, searching for the words to say. "Because- because it just ended, Suki, just like that-" he snapped his fingers emphatically- "and then we didn't see each other for a year. Now we're here- we're together, and we can't even discuss it. Can't even discuss what happened."
Suki scoffed in disbelief. "'Just like that'?" she repeated, her voice raising an octave. "'Just like that'? Were you surprised by your own decision, Sokka? You walked away- you did, not me- and you left me confused and... and hurt." And then before he knew it, tears were filling her eyes. "And I never even saw it coming until that night. Because I was happy, and I thought you were, too."
He pulled her against him wordlessly, and she didn't even resist, she just collapsed into his arms, her cheek pressed against his chest. "I was happy," he murmured into her hair. "I was."
She pulled away, angrily embarrassed.
"Aang and Katara are making a life together," Sokka explained, misery and desperation in equal measure. "And I wanted that for us- I wanted that with you."
"Why couldn't we have it?" she asked, gesticulating wildly with her arms. "Aang and Katara aren't settled down- they never will be! Why was that a problem for you?"
"Because we're not them!" he said. "We can settle down, grow roots- have a life and a place and a part of the world that is ours. Or... we could have."
Suki wiped furiously at her tears. "Where I wasn't the Kyoshi Warriors Captain anymore?"
"The Kyoshi Warriors move around, Suki. They could have gone wherever you wanted to go."
"I am not dragging the girls to some remote corner of the world so that I can play housewife."
Sokka dragged one hand down his face. "Then what do you want, Suki? To be the Kyoshi Warriors Captain for the rest of your life? When you're wrinkled and gray and your bones ache? That's why I left. Because I wanted something different, something new- for us- but I couldn't shake the feeling that you would never look beyond the green and gold, the face paint and fans."
"You think I don't want more?" she breathed. "Of course I want more."
"What is more to you, Suki?" he begged.
Her mouth dropped open, and she spluttered, struggling for the words to say, until her face stilled and calmed and the tension dropped from her shoulders. "I want to deal with one thing at a time," she said evenly. "Amka first. Questions after."
"Fine," he grumbled, hurt and angry. "Have it your way."
Snow crunched underfoot as they made their way to Tokala's house. Their breath fogged the air, rising in smoke-like plumes above them. The sun was high above them now.
When Sokka reached out to knock on Tokala's massive double doors, Aang steeled himself. They'd discussed their plan in detail; Tokala would no doubt defend Amka tooth and nail, and he had a full detail of guardsmen at his disposal. He himself was a formidable enough warrior- and that wasn't to mention Amka herself. Katara would provide defense to the best of her ability, and Aang, Suki, and Sokka would go on the offense. If all went as planned, they'd have her subdued in seconds, without any injuries.
He straightened when a servant opened the door with a questioning look.
"We're here to see Tokala," Sokka said, every inch a Head Chieftain.
"He is busy at the moment, organizing the mobilization of the Northern forces," the servant replied apologetically. "But, I will certainly let him know that you called."
When he began to shut the door, Aang blocked it with his foot.
"Now," Sokka ordered darkly.
That tone, again. The servant bowed, opening the door for them, and guided them down Tokala's pristine white hallways, past tapestries and carvings, into a round chamber, where Tokala, dressed in full battle regalia, was leaned over a table upon which a map of the South Pole was sprawled. He straightened when he saw them. "Avatar Aang, Head Chieftain... what is it?"
Both Katara and Suki started at Tokala's address to Sokka, and Aang realized that, in the wake of Katara's news regarding Amka, they hadn't been briefed on Sokka's new elevation of rank. Suki stared wide-eyed at Sokka, but he ignored their sounds of surprise. "Tokala, we need to speak with Amka."
The Northerner gave him a perplexed look. "Have you not already done so, just this morning?"
"It's urgent," Aang added quietly.
Suspicion clouded Tokala's features, but he turned to a nearby guard. "Bring my niece," he ordered gruffly. When the guard snapped a crisp salute and turned on his heel, Tokala turned back to them. "What's this about?"
"You'll see in a moment," Katara answered him.
"I'm not one for surprises," Tokala said stiffly.
The guard returned quickly, Amka and Kele on his heels. Amka flowed into the room on graceful steps, her face blank, but Kele virtually stomped in, making his way over to his father.
"What is this?" Kele asked with an undercurrent of anger. "I was just escorting Amka to her training. Chenoa and the others are waiting."
Tokala gestured to their guests. "They would like to speak with you, Amka."
"I am at your disposal," she murmured with a dip of her head. When she straightened, she stared at them once more with that strangely blank expression.
Katara stepped forward, as they had discussed. "Amka," she began with a deep breath, "I've been lead to understand that you trained many of the women here in the arts of healing."
"I have."
"I was told by Chenoa that you... invented techniques not used in the North Pole. Not taught by any of their healers."
Amka's eyes tightened momentarily. "Yes," she answered slowly.
"I saw you heal Suki's cut," Katara said softly. "I know what you're doing."
"Healing?" Tokala cut in impatiently. "I should think so. Are you not a healer yourself?"
Katara ignored him. "We met a woman during the war, and escaped Southern Water Tribe prisoner who used to use a similar technique- not the same, I'll grant you, but still... She used it to kidnap Fire Nation citizens. To drag them under a mountain and hold them prisoner, letting them starve, suffer... die."
Amka's chin lifted. "My technique is used only to heal."
"To great effect," Katara admitted. "I have my own husband's life to thank for your technique. But... Chenoa and the others, they don't quite understand what you're teaching them, do they? They understand its different, but they can't quite emulate it, can they? They can't quite figure out how you do it so quickly, so easily."
"What exactly are you accusing her of?" Kele demanded.
Katara ignored him, too. "There's a name for what you're doing." She squared her shoulders. "Bloodbending."
A stillness dropped over the room. The guards behind Tokala all froze, expressions of confusion as if they'd been clubbed over the head. Tokala himself looked just as confused, albeit with a current of anger mixed in. Only Kele and Amka seemed unsurprised.
Sokka spoke up, once more a Head Chieftain. "Amka, we suspect that you killed your husband using your technique. A technique that has brought the wrath of a Great Spirit upon this village."
Kele stepped in front of her, his hand going to the knife at his belt. "You come into our house and accuse my cousin-"
"Step aside, Kele," Suki snapped irritably.
"Do as she says, Kele," Amka murmured.
At her words, Kele turned to her, his eyes wide.
She reached for his hand and squeezed it. "You've done what you can to protect me. I could not be more grateful." She gently dragged him behind her, and he went without a fight. Then, she alone stood at the forefront, before Aang, Sokka, Katara, and Suki, and raised her arms in front of her chest.
There was a flurry of movement as each of the four of them dropped into a defensive position. Beside Aang, Sokka drew his sword. Tokala hurried to step between them. "What is this?" he demanded of Amka, aghast. "This can't possibly be true."
A little flicker of anger crossed Amka's face. "Why can't it?" she asked bitterly. "Because your sweet, well-mannered niece would never?"
"Because it's murder, Amka. A crime."
Her face twisted once more, this time in grief and anguish. "You hate the Fire Nation," she said.
"I do," he answered, "but not enough for... for this."
"You as good as sold me to him," she whispered. "You watched while I suffered. And you did nothing."
Tokala's face matched hers in anguish. "It broke my heart to see it, but you were man and wife. It was your duty to serve-"
Amka's hand shot forward, clenching into a fist, and Tokala broke off in a gurgle of pain. He dropped to his knees, and Amka stepped quietly around him. Behind her, Kele released a groan as Tokala's guardsmen lowered their spears at her, razor edges glinting in the light streaming through the windows.
"Not another step," Tokala's captain ordered.
"Please," Amka whispered to Aang, Katara, Sokka, and Suki, as if the guards weren't there. "I don't want to fight anybody. I never wanted to hurt anybody, not even Katsuro."
Aang frowned at Tokala's form, sprawled on the carpet, and Amka caught his gaze. "We don't want to fight, either," he promised her gently.
A sad, cold kind of resignation lit the violet of Amka's eyes. "I'm not a fighter," she murmured. "But I am more likely to win a fight against the four of you than I am to survive the wrath of this Great Spirit. You are giving me no choice."
"We can protect you-"
She laughed brokenly. "You couldn't even protect yourselves." Red rimmed the edges of her eyes as she shifted into a defensive stance, slow and unfamiliar. "Everything I have done has been to survive, and this is no different. I have always been a survivor. After this, how many of you will be able to say the same?"
The room erupted. Sokka and Suki leapt at her, sword and fans making precise, twin arcs through the air. Katara pivoted out of Amka's line of sight, swinging her arms around her and pulling a wall of water through Tokala's window, shattering the glass in its rush to reach her. As one, the guardsmen thrust their spears at her slim form. Aang sent a kick at her chest, smooth and deadly, a blast of fire speeding towards her.
She spun out of the way, her hands raised before her. Aang could see the fear in her eyes, the anguish, at war with determination, with will. The guardsmen closest to her dropped, blood leaking from the corners of their lips, or noses, or eyes. Sokka and Suki's coordinated attack slowed to a crawl, as if they were moving through water, their breathing coming in gasps. Katara stood unscathed, but she had dropped her wall of water, and sweat stood at her brow as she fought an unseen battle. Aang himself felt a slow squeeze, an oppressive weight around his lungs as he shifted into the next attack, picking up the water Katara had dropped and sending it racing to Amka.
She split the wave as one might chop wood, and met Aang's eyes. A tear dripped from one of her dark lashes. "I'm sorry," she told Aang, her voice breaking. Her hand raised, and closed into a tight fist.
A/n: read and review please!!
