Shattered
Chapter Twelve
Zuko moved through his stances gracefully, albeit far more slowly than usual. The morning sun shone down on him as the fresh, crisp morning air filled his lungs with every breath. He reveled in the freedom of movement, in the familiarity of the katas that he practiced. It had been far too long since he last trained and he knew his body would punish him for it later. Still, it would be a good kind of pain, the kind that came from stretching and using muscles, from helping them grow.
Completing the set, he paused, rotating his left wrist in a circle. The stitches were gone but the skin was still taunt, something Anko had assured him would go away in time, just as the color of the thin line of scar tissue would fade from angry red to white. Technically, Zuko supposed, he was healed. The farmer hadn't made any official declaration of the sort or anything, nor had she asked him to choose between staying with her or returning to town. Instead she had begun to give him things to do, thus far simple chores, but chores all the same. It wasn't as if he minded, really. Keeping busy kept his mind from dwelling on other, darker things. And he certainly couldn't complain about being used or overworked. If anything, he wished the woman would give him more to do. Anko worked circles around him from dawn to dusk. He felt lazy in comparison. But it was an odd role reversal for the Prince, who was used to being the one giving the orders, not receiving them.
Satisfied with the increased flexibility of his wrist and with his practice so far, Zuko decided to move on to a more complicated set. He launched into the maneuvers, sending a variety of fiery blasts out from his body. He paused; that hadn't been quite right, he could almost hear his Uncle's patient voice telling him so. With a resigned sigh he started working through the kata again, a little more carefully this time. A nagging feeling tickled the back of his neck; he suddenly knew he was being watched. He whirled, ready to attack if necessary. Anko was standing there, a burlap sack by her feet, silently watching his every move.
Zuko relaxed out of his aggressive stance, rising up to stand normally. He realized with a twinge of guilt that perhaps he should have asked the farmer whether or not she minded him practicing his firebending. He took a surreptitious look around to make sure nothing was on fire. It all looked good. He had chosen this field deliberately. It was far enough away from the house and barn, and the freshly turned sod was pretty fireproof. But, considering how she felt about firebenders in general, it probably would have been nice if he had asked.
He shifted uneasily under her steady gaze. She had been watching him too. Usually only his Uncle observed his training. Feeling both guilty and embarrassed, he folded his arms in front of his chest defensively. "What?" he asked a bit warily.
Anko gave a half smile. "Oh, don't mind me. I don't think I've ever seen a firebender practice before, that's all. It's interesting." Her smile grew a little bigger, "And it's only fair. You were watching me yesterday."
Zuko could feel a blush start to rise onto his face. "I was not watching you." Anko's smile grew larger still. Caught, Zuko blushed harder.
In truth, he had been watching her. She had left him cleaning Max's harness in the barn when the slight rhythmic vibrations he felt in the earth made him curious. When they didn't stop, he had walked up the slight incline to where Anko was working. She had been using her earthbending to "plow" the fallow field. Time and time again she flawlessly repeated the same series of motions, causing long straight furrows to erupt down the length of the field, folding the soil over top of itself.
Having spent the last two years at sea, Zuko had limited experience with earthbenders. Those he had encountered had been enemy soldiers intent on doing him harm. Dodging rocks thrown at his head eliminated any curiosity he might have had about their style of bending. He had heard all his life how inferior the other types of benders were to the children of fire anyways, so he never before gave earthbending any thought.
Yesterday changed that. He had stood and watched, fascinated, as Anko worked tirelessly. It wasn't what she was doing that had interested him; after all, he couldn't see any combative use in it. It was how she was doing it; her minimalist style, accuracy and apparent lack of effort had impressed him. It reminded him of his Uncle. And after hours of earthbending, she had gone on with her day as if she had done nothing strenuous at all. Zuko wouldn't have been able to function if he had been firebending for that long. He scowled. The woman had been so into her bending, she hadn't turned around once and he had left before she had finished. There was no way she could have known he was there.
Embarrassed and flustered, he tried to deny everything. "I… I wasn't watching you," he childishly insisted. "Why would I want to watch some old peasant woman practice her inferior, barbarian bending anyways?" It was wrong. Zuko knew it as soon as the sentence escaped his mouth.
Anko snorted at his words and raised an eyebrow at the boy. "I see. Well, I'm going to be in amongst the grapple berry vines. When you get done with what you're doing, come find me. I was going to show you what to do with all those seed potatoes you cut up, but seeing how you're feeling so… spirited… today, I guess I'll just have to find something more appropriate for you to do." She hoisted her sack up on one shoulder and turned to leave.
Zuko just stood there, uncertain as to what to do. Apologies didn't come easy for him. As she casually walked away he slowly turned, deciding it was best to just continue where he left off. He assumed his stance; Anko's voice came calling back to him. "By the way, you need to shift your weight back a little quicker to pull that kick off correctly." Eyes widening, Zuko spun around again but Anko was still walking away, distant now. The Prince felt a disquieting chill run down his spine. The fact that the farmer had just casually and accurately identified what he had been doing wrong in his kata bothered him far more that her veiled threat to find him "appropriate" work. Disturbed, he waited until she was completely out of sight before he continued with his training.
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Prince Zuko eyed the large field of leafy green plants a bit dubiously. His practice ruined by both guilt and newfound paranoia, he had come to find Anko shortly after she left him. He had promised himself that no matter what sort of work based punishment the farmer came up with, he would do it quickly, skillfully and without complaint. Although he had heard of earthbenders referred to in a number of derogatory ways growing up, it was almost always people like Zhao who used those phrases. And he wanted to be nothing like Zhao.
At least Anko didn't seem angry with him. He was grateful she hadn't taken his smart-assed remark seriously, though he was determined to make it up to her anyways. Squaring his shoulders, he looked over at the farmer. "So what do you want me to do?"
"Hoe," Anko answered with a smile while brandishing the tool of the same name. "All these little weeds need to be cleaned out from around my crop." She demonstrated, making short efficient strokes with the hoe. She straightened, grinning at the teen. "This is one of my favorite weapons."
Zuko just stared at her. This field was huge, there was no way she seriously expected him to hoe the whole thing. Reminding himself of his promise to accept his punishment, he nodded at her.
"Mind the roots of the crop," she continued instructing. "And when you get done with a row, rake the weeds out to the edge of the field so they don't reroot themselves." Catching the teen's incredulous look she had mercy on him. "Don't worry, you don't have to get it all done today and I can come back and help you later on."
"No, I don't need any help. I can do it myself," he told her firmly.
Anko shrugged. "Suit yourself." She squinted up at the sun, then toed a line into the ground. "When the shadows get to about here, come back to the house; we'll have a late lunch."
He nodded stiffly, taking the hoe from her determinedly. He was a trained warrior; how hard could this be? With an amused shake of her head, Anko left him there.
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Anko headed back to her house a little early. When she had been by herself, meals were things that she had fit in between everything else; now that she had a houseguest, she found herself giving them far more consideration than she was used to. Sweet potatoes, she had decided. That should be filling enough. Forget the meat; what Saki should have warned her about was that teenaged boys were apparently bottomless pits. Although Zuko never complained, Anko got the distinct impression that no matter how much she served, it wasn't enough. Her sudden lack of leftovers attested to that.
She washed at the well by the barn. Let's see…sweet potatoes, bread and cheese… what else can I serve? A baritone moan interrupted her thoughts. Anko backed away from her barn. A large flock of birds suddenly flew over her head, fleeing from the forest that lay between her farm and town. She eyed the tree line, alarmed. Another loud, low groan came from the forest, along with crashing noises. Whatever it was, it was big and it was coming her way. Anko unconsciously slipped into an earthbending stance, ready to protect her farm. Please don't be a dragon, she pleaded mentally.
The commotion grew nearer and louder. A large hairy white form suddenly crested the canopy of trees, showering leaves and broken branches down from around it. Anko shielded her eyes from the sun and squinted. Definitely not a dragon. The beast had six legs and a large beaver-like tail. And were those passengers on its back?
After clearing the edge of the forest, the creature dove for the ground, momentarily disappearing from view. Then with a low grunt of effort, the buffalo-like thing cleared the top of the hill. Anko's eyes widened in horror as it apparently lost control and veered into a collision course with her barn. Not my barn! Not my barn!
The farmer's bare feet pounded the sod as she raced to the other side of the building, ready to raise an earthen barrier to protect it. A frantic chorus of "Yip Yips" reached her ears. The beast swung his flat tail downward, giving him just enough altitude to clear the thatch roof. The powerful blast of air buffeted the farmer as she skidded to a stop and reversed directions, chasing after the intruders, loose pieces of thatch raining down around her. Evidently exhausted by its efforts to dodge her barn, the large flying monster came crashing down between the barn and the house; the force of the impact sending tremors through the earth. It lay there motionless, panting laboriously. Anko approached cautiously.
"Man, that sucked," a teenaged boy clad in blue muttered as he lifted himself up from the saddle.
"Any landing you can walk away from…" a similarly clothed girl replied as she slid off the saddle to the ground. "It's okay Appa, you can rest now. Good boy." She patted the bison's head. Spotting the approaching farmer, the girl's worried face brightened. "Are you Anko? Please say that you are. We need help; we were told that you're a healer."
"I'm Anko," the older woman admitted. "But I'm a farmer. If it's a healer you want, go to the town on the bay." She pointed southwest. "There's a healer named Hideki there. I don't care for the man myself, but he's knowledgeable enough."
"But we just came from town." The boy slid down the bison's side to join the girl. "They sent us here. They said you could help us."
Anko sighed. Damn you Hideki, you lazy ass. Aloud she said, "You both look healthy enough. What's the problem?"
"Oh no, it's not us," the girl with the large blue eyes answered. "It's Appa. He's wounded and now I think he's really sick too." Her eyes were rimmed with tears, frustration evident in her voice. "Please, please help us. We've been to three different islands already. Everyone says they can't do anything; they always sent us away and I don't think Appa can fly anymore!"
Anko eyed the monster. Just say "no", her brain told her. You don't need any more complications in your life and besides, you don't know a thing about large flying animals. She shifted her gaze to the two teens. Quiet tears slipped slowly down the cheeks of the girl's face, but her eyes still held belief and hope in them. The boy was staring fixedly at the ground, his right hand rubbing the upper part of his left arm. He clearly expected to be rejected; although his cheeks were dry, he was also near tears.
Shit! Anko resigned herself to her fate. "Show me his wound." Eyes shining with newfound hope, the girl led her to the bison's left side. Anko grimaced when she saw the large oozing lesion. Yikes, no wonder no one wanted to help them. "How long ago did this happen?"
"Um… about twenty two days, I think…" the boy answered. "Look, um, we don't have any money to pay you," he blurted out. The girl elbowed him in the ribs, "Sokka!" "Well it's better to be honest." He turned back to Anko. "We can't pay you and there's something important we have to do once Appa is better, but whatever it takes, I promise if you help us we will repay our debt to you someday."
Anko didn't take her eyes off the putrid wound. "You two from the Northern Water Tribe?"
"Southern."
"Hm, you're a ways from home." The earthbender absently raked her hair with her fingers, loose bits of straw from her barn's roof coming out to drift to the ground. She straightened to look at the two Watertribers directly. "Well, get your gear and this saddle off of him. It's not helping matters any. I'll go get some things that we'll need."
The girl clapped her hands together. "Does this mean you'll help Appa?"
"It means I'll try. I'm not making any promises. I'm not a true healer and I've got no experience with bison, flying or otherwise. But, I give you my word that I'll do my best to help you out."
Anko turned and left for her barn. She shook her head at herself. Fool. Although she'd never admit it to anyone, the earthbender had a weakness for children and animals. All I can do is try. I owe the Water Tribe that much."
"Wow, I can't believe it!" Sokka gave his sister a relieved grin. "I thought for sure she'd send us away."
"I told you it would all work out. You should have more faith in people." Katara smiled back. Sokka quickly climbed back on top of Appa. He handed their gear down to Katara. The large, heavy saddle was a bit more complicated to remove. Sokka unbuckled the strap that went around the bison's girth. He handed one end of the strap to his sister. "Now I'll go to the other side and pull and you use your weight to slow down the saddle so it doesn't squash me. We'll lower it to the ground slowly."
Katara rolled her eyes. Boys could be so bossy sometimes. "Sure Sokka, I haven't forgotten how this works; even though it's been a whole two days since we did it last."
Sokka frowned at his sister and moved to Appa's other side. "Ready?" he asked as he started pulling on the saddle. Katara tightened her grip on the strap, using her body weight to slow down the saddle's dissention.
"Anko? What was all that noise? Are you alright?" a familiar male voice called.
Katara recognized it instantly. Shocked, she let go of the leather strap as she spun around. "Katara!" her brother yelled as the suddenly unbalanced saddle toppled over the bison's side and pinned him to the ground.
"Zuko." Katara stared incredulously as the Fire Nation Prince rounded the barn.
"You!" Eyes wide with disbelief, Zuko stared back at her and Appa. They regarded each other in a dumbfounded silence that lasted all of five seconds.
"You… you idiots! How could you let Zhao capture the Avatar? This whole mess is all your fault!"
"Our fault! This is all your fault! If you hadn't been chasing us so much, we would have never camped on that island. You're no different than Zhao! Fire Nation monsters! You take everything away!"
"I'm nothing like Zhao! What do you know of loss anyways? Do you have any idea what your incompetence has caused me to lose?"
"I hate you," they screamed simultaneously. Mere words were no longer enough to convey their anger. Zuko crouched, fire ready at his hands and feet. The enraged Katara focused her bending on the nearby well, a geyser of water erupting out. Wasting no time, she directed the whole thing at the startled Zuko, dousing both him and the attack he was about to launch at her. A cloud of steam rose eerily from his body as the water evaporated.
Zuko charged, knowing that Katara couldn't recklessly use that much water in close quarters. Growling, Katara froze the water on the ground between them. Zuko slipped, but instead of landing on his face he turned his tumble into a controlled roll. Twisting, he lashed out with a low spin kick, sending an arc of flame straight for Katara's legs. Katara had uncorked her canteen, hoping to use a water whip on the Prince while he was still on the ground. Already moving through the stances, she didn't notice the approaching fire until it was too late to dodge. Sokka, finally free of Appa's saddle, raced around the bison with his boomerang at the ready. He saw. "Katara, watch out!"
Earth erupted from beneath both combatants' feet. It spiraled around them, tightly surrounding their bodies until only their heads were left free from the mounds. Free from Katara's influence, the water whip collapsed to the ground with a splat. Zuko's fire harmlessly hit the earthen cocoon surrounding Katara. Mouth agape, Sokka stared as the other two helplessly struggled against the firm hold of the earth. It proved futile.
A gruff, angry voice reached their ears. "That will be quite enough of that." Anko's black eyes sparked with anger as she inserted herself between the two teenaged benders. Her hands were clenched into fists, holding the earth tightly around them. Katara struggled against her hold. "What are you doing? That's Prince Zuko! Of the Fire Nation!" Anko ignored the girl. "You," she addressed Sokka, "take the sharp edge of that boomerang and slit the bison's throat."
Sokka's eyes widened. He backed away from her. "What! No way! You let my sister go right now or I'll throw it at you!"
Anko narrowed her eyes at the Water Tribe boy. "Listen boy, that wound is gangrenous, rotten. It's not going to get better by itself and if the poison gets into his blood… Let's just say it's a long, horrible way to die. If you have any mercy in your heart, you'll spare the creature the suffering and give him a quick death."
"No!" Katara yelled. "You told us you'd help us. You gave us your word."
Anko looked up at the angry, tearful girl. "And you told me you came here for help, not to bring the bloody damn Centennial War to my doorstep. This is my farm, Zuko is my guest, and I won't tolerate fighting here. Understand?"
"Your… your guest!" Katara couldn't believe it. Her eyes danced between the older earthbender and the teenaged son of the Firelord. This made no sense at all. Just then Appa gave a low rumbling groan, pain evident even to those not familiar with his usual sounds. The waterbender gave up trying to figure things out. Appa's well being was all that mattered now. She looked over to Sokka, who was still prepared to fight to free her, and shook her head. Slowly, he lowered his weapon. Katara looked back to the earthbender. "I'm… sorry. I didn't know that he was your guest. Please release me and help Appa. I won't cause any more trouble on your farm. I promise."
Anko regarded the girl silently for a moment. Then, she relaxed her right fist. The earth surrounding Katara loosened its suffocating grip and crumbled, slowly receding back into the ground. Katara brushed herself off as Anko spoke. "Alright then. I left two copper kettles next to the barn. Go fetch them, girl. The larger one goes in front of the bison's head, the smaller, by his wound. Fill them both about halfway up with water." "You there, boy," she pointed at Sokka, "go to the woodshed on the other side of my house. Bring back some wood, the good seasoned wood and make a pile next to each kettle."
Sokka frowned at being addressed as "boy". "It's Sokka," he informed her. "And that's my sister, Katara."
"Get moving," the unaffected woman ordered. Once the Water Tribe siblings were out of ear shot, she looked to the still imprisoned Prince. Anko cocked a brow at him, silently asking his intentions. Zuko made one last fruitless effort to free himself from her earthen grip. Then with a long sigh he gave up. "Fine," he muttered almost inaudibly. Anko decided not to press the issue. She freed him. "I did promise to help them," she offered as way of an explanation, not as an apology.
"Whatever." Zuko glared daggers at the bison. How many times had the Avatar escaped him solely because of this stupid beast? Far too many times to count. I hope it dies, he thought bitterly. Anko regarded him silently for a moment. "You know, if those two are your enemies, I can understand you not wanting to help them,"she said slowly, "but I'd be grateful if you'd help me."
The other two were returning. Leaving it at that, Anko walked away from the firebender, not bothering to look back. Zuko glared after her. No way! he fumed. There's no way I'd do anything to help those annoying peasants and that stupid, interfering beast! Anko's nuts if she thinks any different. Irate, he stalked off.