Chapter 10: The Rescue

Katara opened her bleary eyes as the sounds of rustling movements and mumbled "good mornings" from her fellow soldiers around her greeted her ears. The air was biting cold even inside the tent; body heat was not enough to drive off the coming chill of fall. She almost welcomed it in instead of the killing heat that controlled most of the Fire Nation's long summer months. They didn't even have snow here in the winter; just a few rain storms and generally cooler and cloudier days.

"Are you feeling better, Katara?" asked Hiro quietly, looking over his shoulder at her as he rolled up his sleeping bag. "You could sleep for a bit longer while we clean up the campsite."

Katara smiled and shook her head. "I'll be out in a moment. I'll just be in your way if I stay here while everyone tries to pack up."

Hiro shrugged. "If you need help, just call one of us."

Katara nodded, and as Qin, Faozu, Ensei, and Hiro crawled out of the tent to tend to various morning duties (cooking, feeding horses, packing up), she gritted her teeth and began the painful job of getting out of her sleeping bag.

She tried setting her elbows firmly on the ground and pulling herself out, inch by inch. That required too much movement of the abdominal muscles which sent spasms of pain through her injury, so she lay back down, breathing heavily. A few more hours of this and she'd be out in no time. Clenching her fists, she began again, trying to distance herself from the worrisome ache growing in her side, and the sweat that came with the strenuous movement.

All of a sudden, two hands gripped her gently under her arms and began pulling her out slowly. "I've got you," the Emperor said softly. "Just relax."

Katara honestly tried to, but the nearness of his presence, his breath right beside her ear, his arms encircling her body, caused all the wrong reactions. Instead of relaxing like he'd said, she just tensed up, every muscle rigid.

He seemed to sense it. "I'm not trying anything perverted," he snapped, sounding annoyed. "I'm just trying to help you."

"Thank you," she forced herself to say. Their argument from yesterday was still fresh in her mind. And the things Lt. Ensei had told her last night as well: The Emperor still thinks he owes his life to you. You could order him to set fire to his palace and he would do it to make you happy.

"Your gratitude overwhelms me," he snapped back.

Katara frowned. The Emperor thought she'd saved his life, and so was doing everything he could to help her. She understood that. What she didn't understand was why he was being such a… such an ass about it.

But then again, she admitted grudgingly, she wasn't exactly playing the part of a heroic, generous rescuer either. They were both covering up their nervousness and respective needs for distance with unkind remarks and angry sniping. Hiding beneath a mask of toughness and I-can-take-care-of-myself attitude was apparently something they both had in common. We're not making it easier for one another.

Well, Katara decided she'd be the first to change that.

As Zuko set her gently on the ground next to her sleeping bag, she thanked him again, with more sincerity than the first time, and reached to put away her things.

He didn't seem to hear her, or was choosing to ignore her, as he began to fold up her sleeping bag for her. "I'll do that," he said, his tone having lost it's earlier edge. "It'll be faster for both of us if I do it."

Katara sat silently, leaning against her pack to conserve her energy as she watched the Emperor make quick work of her things. Before he was finished, however, the voice of Lt. Ensei called the Emperor outside to deal with something involving the fire. Giving her a stern look, he said, "Don't move until I get back. You'll just end up hurting yourself again."

She had a ready retort on her tongue, something witty about being able to take care of herself, but swallowed it at the last moment. Hadn't she told herself she was going to initiate a situation where they could talk to each other without biting each other's heads off? Fine. But he certainly wasn't helping.

Reaching one hand out, she managed to stuff the rest of her clothes into her pack, finishing the Emperor's job. Now she was ready to go. On any other day, with a whole and healthy body, she could have been out there with the rest of them, doing her part in cleaning up the campsite and getting ready to leave. She sighed heavily, cursing her injury. It made everything so much harder and inconvenient, not to mention that it'd almost killed her.

She shivered, thinking of her near brush with death. It was not something she'd like to experience again. The sensation of falling into never-ending dreams that continued to confuse her waking mind. It bothered her.

The Emperor reappeared, and without a word, moved to closer to her and bent to scoop her up in his arms.

She held up one hand to stop him. "Just help me stand up and I'm sure I can do it," she said, determined to do at least something herself today.

He said nothing in response, so she didn't know if he was pissed off or happy at her idea. Instead, he just moved behind her and gripping her under the arms as he had done earlier, he gently lifted her up until she was standing on her own two feet, still a bit crouched over because of the low ceiling of the tent. Katara held her breath the entire time as Emperor Zuko slowly relinquished her weight until she was standing by herself. One of his arms was still wrapped around her upper torso for support, just in case she lost it and went down again. Katara hated to be so dependent on another person, but she also knew that if the Emperor had simply let her go to stand by herself, she would have been on the ground in less time than it had taken her to get up.

Her rib wound tightened—she waited for the inevitable sharp pain, the break, the rip that would tell her something had gone wrong, that she had moved too fast. Nothing happened. She let her breath out in a loud whoosh. If she took everything carefully, she'd be fine.

"Can you walk?" he asked.

Katara nodded. Her legs were fine—it was her upper body that she was afraid of moving.

She lifted one foot, the next, and walked at a considerably slow pace from the tent, the Emperor shadowing her at her side. Katara's legs were a little sore—nothing different from the usual after a hard day's travel and exertion. She tried to put each foot down as gently as possible; but even with these precautions, each impact with the ground sent jolts up through her hip until they hit her ribs. On a normal day, she would never have even noticed it. But now she was wounded bad and every single part of her body could feel it. Little pains; but little things quickly built up to become big ones.

By the time they reached the campfire, a distance she usually could have covered in less than ten seconds, she was sweating and breathing heavily.

"Should she be walking by herself?" asked Hiro, as they stopped to watch her progress.

"She insisted on it," answered the Emperor, eyes intent as he lowered her to the ground to lean against a tree. "I couldn't stop her."

Lt. Ensei laughed. "She's got a bad arrow wound and you're in the best of health—what do you mean you couldn't stop her? Did she throw her hairbrush at you?"

"Something along those lines," the Emperor replied stiffly, finally releasing Katara as she settled against the tree trunk with a small sigh. Obviously he didn't want to talk about how he was complying with Katara's wishes. Not exactly an Emperor-ly thing to do, listening to somebody else's orders.

Everybody else just shook their heads and got back to fastening packs and supplies onto the horse's saddlebags, and taking down the tent Katara had finally vacated. On the ground, she watched them, regaining her breath and wiping the sweat from her brow. Damn it all. Why me? Why am I the one suffering?

It was a selfish thought; even though it had all but rendered her an invalid, she would never have wished this injury on anybody else in her patrol.

Not even the Emperor? Wouldn't it have helped your assassination mission along just a bit if he was wounded and weakened? An injured man is infinitely easier to kill than a healthy one.

This thought by itself made her breathing quicken more than the short trip from the tent had. What disgusting, evil creature was she to wish that her enemy was in a weakened state when she killed him? What had happened to her honor? A fair and just fight, against equally matched opponents?

Since when have assassins had honor?

He's still my enemy. He might have cared for me while I was unconscious, and helped me this morning, and supported me while I tried to walk by myself, but he is still my enemy. Nothing will change that. I still have my own private mission to accomplish.

Then all of a sudden he was by her side, arm sliding around her shoulders, eyes focused as he began to raise her up. "Time to go," he said.

She stiffened, both from his proximity and the pain she knew was coming as her abdomen and torso bent and unbent, trying to rise from the ground. The everyday motions of moving and rising and sitting seemed like an infinite stretch of pain.

How could she never have noticed before? That there were so many muscles needed to accomplish the simple action of leaning forward. That those muscles contracted and relaxed in order to bring her spine forward and then raise up, allowing her hips to lift off the ground as her feet began to take her weight from her bottom? Then she had to lean back, those same muscles in her torso contracting again, trying to regain her sense of balance? That the mere act of balancing required even more muscles to orient herself on her feet? That every muscle somehow connected and influenced a different one, creating a chain reaction of physical movement and pain?

Getting up was so much harder than sitting down. Sitting down, you had gravity to do most of the work as you relaxed and let yourself fall gently. Getting off the ground required painful effort.

The human body was an unbelievably complex machine that everybody took for granted. Break one part, and it was practically impossible for the rest of the body to function.

But it was possible to accomplish it with the help of somebody stronger. Her hands were clenching his black shirt as the Emperor finally helped Katara back onto her feet. Catching sight of her pack already tied onto one of the horses, she began to place one foot before the other, making a line for her destination.

"You know, it'd be a lot easier if you'd just let him carry you over," mumbled Hiro from the side.

Katara ignored him, letting her silence be the answer.

Finally, after what seemed like an hour, her feet were finally resting next to the horse's own gigantic hooves. Looking up, she realized that there was absolutely no way she could mount by herself, without tearing upon her wound yet again. Turning to the Emperor, she prepared to swallow her pride and ask for yet more assistance.

He was frowning. "You're going to ride by yourself?"

Now it was her turn to frown back. "Of course I am. That's the whole point of horses—so I can just sit and ride without bothering anybody."

"You think you're going to be able to ride by yourself?"

"That's what I just said," she replied, a trifle annoyed. He had done a lot, supporting her as she walked, but this was getting a bit far. "I just need you to get me up there."

"She thinks she can ride by herself," he repeated yet again, this time to the seeming amusement of the other patrol members watching the little drama unfold.

"I think we all heard you the first time, your majesty," Katara snapped, not bothering to keep her tone nice this time. Really. What was he getting at?

"Alright," he began to nod, almost mechanically. "I'll get you up there." The Emperor had a sarcastic, condescending tone of voice.

She ignored him and turned to face the horse. Then his hands were around her waist, and she was lifted up into the air before settled into the saddle. He'd done it almost without any effort at all, she noticed resignedly. Unfair. She couldn't have lifted him onto a horse in the first place, and if she could have, it would have involved a lot of grunting and swearing before she even managed to get him off the ground.

All of a sudden, she seemed very, very far away from solid ground. She'd ridden horses before without any problem with heights; what was this now?

"Are you ready?" he asked from below. Katara noticed belatedly that she was still leaning heavily on his hands, trying to keep the strain from her ribs.

"Okay," she managed to squeak.

Then he left her perched there precariously on top of the snorting and stomping horse. She was suspended in the air for a quick second as his hands disappeared.

Her body went through all the usual motions of balancing herself on a seat without back support. The tightening of the muscles around the spine, slight straightening of the neck, firm back, and contraction of the abdominal muscles and side muscles to keep her from falling forward.

It was this last part as injured muscles in her side shot brilliant pain through her, leaving her gasping for breath; she lost control, trying to relax to keep the paralyzing agony at bay.

She slid sideways, falling off the saddle, the horse stamping in annoyance at such an incompetent rider, heading for the forest floor, she was going to hit her head—

Emperor Zuko caught her, and she caught the superior smirk on his face as she tried to regain her breath. Told you so.

"I think she's learned her lesson," said Qin, eyes smiling.

Katara gritted her teeth, both in pain and at her own stupidity. Damn it. Why did the Emperor always have to be so right?

"Not trying to rush anybody, but we gotta be out of here in five minutes or we won't make it to Asaj by noon," said Lt. Ensei from his position on top of his own horse. Everybody else was already mounted.

Katara nodded. Again, she was inconveniencing everybody else with her stubbornness and injury. If she had just agreed to ride with somebody else at the beginning, they could have been well out of here by now.

"Let's go then," said the Emperor, half-carrying Katara over to his own horse. Qin dismounted to hold Katara as Emperor Zuko swung onto the saddle. Katara felt like a burden, a heavy piece of baggage as the Emperor situated himself before leaning over slightly and saying, "Here, give her to me."

Qin lifted her up into the air before the Emperor caught her and settled her in front of him as gently as possible. She clenched her jaw tightly as the short journey from ground to horse top still unsettled her wound. But she wasn't going to complain. She'd already made enough trouble as it was.

The cloudy dawn continued on into a heavy gray fog, and in the last few hours before full noon, a fine rainy drizzle began to fall over the cloaked line of Elite riders as they rode over the narrow forest paths. Everybody had their hoods pulled up to protect from the rain; now they were just black figures, covered heads slightly bent, proceeding almost like a slow funeral procession. It was too dangerous to move any faster; the rain made the rocks and gravel on the path slick, so that the horses occasionally lost their footing in a minor stumble.

Her own cloak was packed away in her bag that was still attached to the one rider-less horse, so the Emperor wordlessly pulled his own over to cover her as well, almost like a small, dark, warm tent. The top of Katara's head fit neatly beneath his chin, and his arms wrapped around her waist to hold the reins and keep her upright. When the horse stumbled, his arm invariably jerked up on accident and bumped her wound; she hissed, and he mumbled a quiet apology before resettling himself around her.

In the beginning, her face had heated at how close they were together on that horse. Him, sitting upright; her, leaning with her back against his chest, head resting at the juncture of his neck and collarbone. Then the rain had started, and he'd covered the both of them with his cloak. It created a warmth that surrounded her and was not unpleasant.

Now, she was no longer embarrassed at their proximity, nor was she as stiff and tense as she had been before. Instead, the long ride began to wear her down. She could feel every single one of the horse's steps as it plodded along; one hoof, a second, and then the next; on and on and on. Each one jolted her injury, small pains until it all combined after an hour to form a dull, throbbing ache. She dearly hoped it wasn't bleeding again. If it was, she would be able to feel it, wouldn't she?

Katara wasn't sure when she fell asleep, but somehow the rhythmic roll of the horse's gait and the warmth of the Emperor's body heat all combined to make her slip off into a bothered, shallow doze. She didn't dream this time; for it wasn't a true sleep. She was still aware of the cold outside the cloak and the movements of the horse beneath her and the deep, even breathing of the Emperor. It was the half-sleep that came between the worlds of unconsciousness and full waking.

Then the Emperor shifted behind her and she could feel that they had stopped.

"What?" she murmured groggily.

"We're stopping for lunch," he replied, and unwrapped the cloak. She shivered slightly. Through the fine sheet of rain, she could see that the other members of the patrol were dismounting.

Hiro quickly strode over after tying up his horse and held up his arms to her. "I've got you, Katara."

Gingerly she swung one leg over the saddle so she was facing Hiro, and then slid down slowly with the help of Emperor Zuko. Hiro's steady hands caught her and she was lowered to the ground as the Emperor dismounted behind her.

Underneath the shelter of some low-branched trees, they ate a meager breakfast of rations and drank from water bottles. The water dripped down from the green leaves above them and soon they were all damp.

"The weather on this side of the rivers and mountains was always rainy," mused Faozu out loud.

"Can't wait until we get back to Kotzut," mumbled Qin, shaking his head so that his hair splattered water all over the place. "Give me hundred-degree sunny heat over this, this water any day of the week."

Katara rather enjoyed the rain. It wasn't a real rainstorm, just a thin drizzle, almost foggy in its transparency. It was refreshing and cool. The usual heat of the Fire Nation just made her sweaty and muggy and annoyed.

They packed up again and as soon as everybody was ready, they were off.

Plodding along, Katara was surprised when Emperor Zuko all of a sudden began to speak.

"You've never been to the royal palace in Kotzut, have you?" he said.

Katara, a bit shocked at the sudden start in conversation, took a moment before she could fumble out an answer. "N-no, I haven't." She knew that Elite patrols sometimes went to the Palace in order to report directly to the Emperor when he was absent from the army barracks, but she had never been there herself before.

"Well, in the portrait hall, there is this one painting that my ancestor had commissioned. My ancestor—the first Zuko. It's quite big, and very well done."

Katara remained silent. He was telling her this for some reason, but she couldn't fathom what. If only she could see his face, and his expression, and maybe somehow understand his motives. But twisting around in his hold on the saddle would prove more trouble than it was worth, so she stayed still and listened.

"Usually the Fire Lords of the old days had their portraits painted with themselves as the only subject. My great-great-great-grandfather, the famous Zuko, had his painted with his deceased wife."

Katara stiffened. She remembered. The first Zuko's wife was named Katara.

The current Emperor Zuko, the one alive and warm and holding her in the saddle, seemed to fumble now. "She was—she was already dead at the time the painting was ordered by him—but the artist was someone who had known her very, very well. A small servant boy named Kaz, who had accompanied her on her travels, and who turned out to have an amazing artistic ability. The portrait with the two of them, the first Fire Emperor Zuko and his Lady Katara, was completed and hung up, and at his majesty's orders, was never to be taken down, not even after his death."

"You'd think that he would never want to be reminded of her again, after she died giving birth," Katara said softly.

Zuko II laughed a bit harshly behind her. "Yes, well, some people say that he chose to torture himself that way. By seeing her everyday, he was reminded of all his wrong choices and the evil things he'd done. People say he drove himself crazy, that he could spend hours in front of that painting apologizing to no one. The genocide he lead against all the Water tribes—he thought he could rid himself of her memory that way by killing all of her people.

"He was very young when he passed away, having driven himself to a point of no return. He died, still apologizing over and over again to her."

Katara couldn't help but shudder. Insanity, the extermination of a whole race, and then finally a wretched death. Was that what love, or the utter loss of it, could do to a person?

If so, she didn't want any part in it.

"I know you think I must be crazy, telling you all this, but my reason is—"

He was interrupted by a cry from Lt. Ensei, who was in the front.

"They're just up ahead! Let's go, let's go!" All of a sudden the horses broke into a canter, and the Emperor cursed and kicked his mount into a run as well. Disjointed voices reached Katara's ears over the sounds of the horses's heavy breathing and loud galloping.

"How did they know we were coming?"

"Don't let them get away!"

Lt. Ensei began to pick up the pace as soon as the path turned from rocky stones to a smoother dirt track, and soon they were going at a full-out run towards the Asaj Fortress. The Emperor held Katara firm against him to try to negate the effects of the bouncy run as much as possible, and she was eternally grateful for it. They had broken free from the overhanging branches of the forest and were now riding through a grassy field. Through the folds of the cloak, Katara could glimpse the backs of green-clad warriors, racing ahead on their own horses. Her breath caught in her chest.

From the corner of her eye she could see Faozu, grim look on his face, relinquishing the reins and sitting in the saddle with only his legs to keep him on; he pulled back his bow, sighted along the arrow, and let fly.

Faozu was a good shot. In front of them, a Kyoshi warrior cried out in pain as a feathered arrow sunk into his back, and he tumbled off of his mount onto the ground in a broken heap. The horse ran on, ignorant of its master's death.

One of the other enemy riders pulled back and turned around, obviously to try and save his companion. Katara wanted to scream, wanted to shout at him to run, because she knew the Elites were merciless against the rebels, and if the warrior stopped, he was as good as dead. But she kept silent.

A second arrow left Faozu's bow, and the warrior who had been trying to save his friend fell backwards out of the saddle as well. The horse snorted and stomped around before taking off across the field with the rest of the rebels.

"Cut them off!" yelled Lt. Ensei, waving one arm towards the rebels ahead of them. "Don't let them get back into the forest, or we'll lose them!"

Hiro and Qin were already circling around towards the front to drive the rebels backwards. Their faces were focused, swords out and ready.

One of the rebels' horses reared and whinnied high and loud when Hiro cut him off in the front, wickedly shining sword just barely missing the horse's nose. The Kyoshi warriors were surrounded now, horses nervous and wild-eyed, backing together in a tight circle. There were four total; two of them were seated upon one horse. Was the figure in front the noble they had captured? Whoever it was, he was hooded and cloaked in black, obviously to keep him from knowing what was going on and what direction they were traveling in. The rebels were obviously trapped.

Katara swallowed hard as the Emperor closed in on the circle that the rest of the patrol had already formed. Then, before she could protest, he had lifted her from the saddle, lowering her to the ground next to a toppled log in the field. She grimaced as she hit the dirt with a bit more speed than she would have liked.

"Sorry," he said, before straightening up again. "You'll be safer here. Keep your sword ready in case something happens. I can't fight with you in front of me. I'd be too worried about you getting hurt."

Katara nodded. This was what they had agreed on last night. She had insisted on traveling, but promised to stay out of the way if things got rough. Sitting down with her back against the log, she couldn't see anything at all. But the screams and the high neighing of the horses and clashing of metal was enough to build a picture in her mind. Shakily, she drew her sword from her built and gripped it in her right hand.

She could hear Lt. Ensei yelling orders—then a man's scream of pain. Was that Hiro? Please don't let it be Hiro. Please let it be the enemy.

Who was the enemy?

Then the sound of galloping came from behind the log, and a sudden skidding stop as the horse threw back its head. Katara struggled to turn around, trying to brace herself against the wood; the movement caused her side to pain her horribly. She caught a glimpse of the Emperor's scarred face, and then somebody dropped down next to her with a muffled cry. It was the black-cloaked figure she'd seen earlier, the noble who had been captured by the prisoner. The noble twisted, trying to remove the cloth around his face before finally succeeding in pulling it off.

Feminine features greeted Katara's shocked eyes. A full, pink mouth, almond-dark eyes, and pale ivory skin.

"A woman?" both of them said at the same time, surprise evident on their faces.

The noble girl spoke first. "They let women in the Elites now?" Her voice might have been honey-sweet in an otherwise different situation, but right now it was merely skeptical with an edge of haughtiness, as if nothing she didn't know already wasn't worth knowing about.

Katara said nothing, still confused. She'd thought this mission was to rescue some rich old fogey who had decided to take a vacation at his summer house and had refused to evacuate even though reports of Kyoshi rebels had been coming into the area for months. Not a young woman. Not this girl.

The noblewoman looked down at the sword lying by Katara's side and scooted away a bit, eyes slightly fearful. "You know how to use that thing?"

"No," Katara snapped back, all of a sudden annoyed at this girl's obvious ignorance about any matters concerning her own country's army. "They let me into the Elites because I wrote good poetry."

Those bright, darkly lashed eyes narrowed. "Then what are you doing hiding behind a log? What, aren't you good enough to be out there fighting with the men?"

Katara stiffened. "I'm injured from an earlier fight with a rebel." And I decided to give up a whole day's rest so we could come out here and rescue you.

"Right," the noblewoman said. "And the Emperor decided to trust you to protect me because—"

Her words escalated into a scream. Katara whirled around, ignoring the pain that flashed through her torso. A shadow drew over them; a white face formed in an angry grimace as a metal sword came whistling out of the sky.

All those years of Kyoshi training paid off as Katara's reflexes reacted quicker than her rational thoughts. She brought up her sword, the rebel's own weapon clanging against hers in an ugly sound of screeching metal. Katara could feel the blow reverberate all the way down her arm and through her body. She looked up into his face, and did not recognize him. His expression clearly stated that he had no idea that she was a fellow Kyoshi warrior; to him, she was merely Fire Empire scum that needed to be killed.

If I don't kill him first, he'll kill me.

Gripping her sword with both hands, she tried to force him back. He grunted and pressed down harder, gaining ground. She was weak from earlier loss of blood and her still wounded body; the only thing that kept her standing upright and fighting was sheer force of will. In the background, she could still hear that noble girl screaming. How obnoxious.

Getting desperate, Katara threw her body weight forward, trying to push the warrior back far enough so she could take a swing at him. It worked marginally well; his face showed surprise as he stumbled slightly, and she separated their swords. Taking the opportunity, she swung forward in a wild, uncontrolled attempt to take him down. The pain in her side was unbelievable; had she opened her wound again? All she succeeded in doing was leaving an undefended, open shot at her stomach.

For a split second, over the warrior's shoulder, Katara could see the Emperor riding towards them at a full-out gallop, bent over his horse, sword raised up and ready at his side. Before she could say, or do, anything, he had come up behind the Kyoshi warrior and stabbed; in and out, before galloping past in a storm of hooves.

The warrior merely looked surprised as he toppled forward onto the ground.

Katara, breathless, stuck her sword into the ground and leaned on it as an old woman would on her favorite cane. Black spots danced before her vision. She sank into a heap in the grass. Wrapping an arm around her side, she felt something sticky and then lifted her hand away to see a faint reddish tinge on her fingers. The blood was leaking through her shirt. Damn it.

"Shit," she heard faintly as Hiro quickly came up behind her and helped her lay back down on the ground. "Did it open up again?"

She nodded, eyes focusing on his face. Katara refused to pass out this time.

"Your Majesty, your Majesty!" Katara could hear the noblewomen pattering on. "That rebel—he almost killed me, his sword was coming straight for me—my father will be ever so grateful when he hears how you rescued me—"

"You're very welcome, Lady Adia. Now if you could just excuse me—"

Katara could hear the sounds of the Emperor dismounting in a rush, almost pushing that noble (the Lady Adia?) aside as he jogged over to Hiro and Katara.

"It's opened up again," Hiro said as the Emperor arrived.

Katara futilely tried to brush them off. "It's nothing big—probably just moved too fast—"

Hiro just shook his head and helped Katara stand up as Emperor Zuko vaulted back onto his horse, and then Katara was lifted up again. The noble girl was given the extra horse that was supposed to have been Katara's.

They were well on their way back, before Katara remembered the Kyoshi warriors. Were they still back there, dead and bloodied, on the grassy field? If they'd been in Kyoshi, they would have been given proper funeral rites and a respectable grave. Now their eyes would be picked out by carrion crows as their flesh slowly rotted away and their bones broke down into the earth. If the animals didn't get them first.

For the rest of the day, the patrol (plus one noble girl) rode at a steady pace back towards the two rivers, which they would have to cross again before getting back to the capital. The rain had stopped a long time go, so they were able to make good speed.

They crossed over much the same way they had the first time. There was no danger this time; the rebels who had shot Katara were now laying dead in a field behind them. They swung over, with the Emperor taking Katara in a precarious hold and Lt. Ensei taking the lady.

When night fell, they decided to camp between the rivers.

"We can stay here a few nights for Katara to rest awhile before we travel back to Kotzut," said Hiro. "You know, let the wound heal a bit better before attempting the rest of the trip." He looked to Katara for confirmation.

She shrugged slightly. "If we're not in a hurry." She didn't want to outright admit that yes, she would prefer to rest, but if… "Wait, do you need to get back to the capital?" She directed this question to the Emperor.

He shook his head. "My uncle will be able to take care of things if I'm gone a little longer than planned."

"That's what we'll do then," said Lt. Ensei. "We're not in a rush to go anywhere else, Kat. You just take your time and relax."

Katara rolled her eyes.

A/N: Couple of announcements to make:

New fanart for this story by Sarah! (link is in my profile) I want Katara's pants so badly. Links to other fanarts for both this story and THATP are in my profile—if you want to contribute, just email me!

I've received a new award! Love Thy Enemy is Fanfiction of the Month at the amazing Avatar fansite, Unseen Paths, run by the wonderful Lala-Ness! I posted the link to the award, and the fansite, in my profile. XD

Question and Answer time:

Hey - is there going to be a guest appearance from Aang, perhaps? –La Editor
Hm, I've gotten quite a few questions concerning the reappearance of our favorite little Airbender. My lips are sealed. If I reveal anything, I'm pretty sure it'll ruin the storyline for everybody. Wait and see!

Last chapter you mention Sherwood Smith as being one of your favorite authors. Have you read her book called CROWN DUEL? –kay jolyn
Yes I have! It's one of my top five favorites. I wasn't technically thinking about Meliara when I wrote this fanfiction, but I can see now the connections between Katara and her. Maybe it was all in my subconscious? XD Thank you very much. I'm glad you enjoy this story.

SDFSDKL dude! I remember Adia! Yes! Is she coming back! dies -Outsane
SDFSDKL DUDE! Like, I bet you already found out! dies

…you are so freaking hilarious.

is this katara and zuko the reincarnations of the origanals? –zuko's baby girl
We are on Chapter 10, kiddies, and this question is still being asked? Please refer to previous author's notes (specifically chapter 2) and the fact that I also stated in THATP the fact that they are reincarnated THREE OR FOUR GENERATIONS AFTER THE ORIGINALS.

I really don't want to have to do this again.

i loved when Katara and Zuko yelled at each other. its so good to read about arguments, it brings joy to my heart. –jerseygrl246
As it does mine. XD