A/N: well, another chapter. i liked the two reviews, but I'd appriciate more!
Disclaimer: I do not own nickelodeon; so therefore, I own none of their creations. Damn.
I've drawn a few more things. Check the profile, click the link.
Without A Nation
Part one: Weakness
Chapter Three: The Festival
Katara woke with a start, sitting up quickly and causing blood to rush to her head. She swayed as he vision blurred and she moaned hand going to her head. She felt a bandage instead of skin, and freaked. Letting out a silent scream, she scrambled to her feet and saw she was not where she had thought she would be. Curtains? She thought, oh no, I've been captured! She pulled back the curtains and saw her brother. Dropping to her knees, she began to shake her brother, whispering for him to wake.
Finally, Sokka began to mumble and move on his own accord, eventually shying away from her nervous hands; "What's wrong…?" he mumbled, opening one eye, barely. When he found his surroundings to be manmade, both eyes snapped open andhe looked around; "What… what's going on?"
"I don't know, Sokka, I thin we've been captured!" Katara said feverishly; "Where's Aang?"
"I… Aang? Aa--!" Sokka cried, but Katara covered his mouth.
"SHHH!" she said fiercely, eyeing him; "Calm down!" when he nodded she retreated, holding her hands in her lap as she looked around; "Doesn't seem like a prison…"
"Don't let it fool you," Sokka ground out, glaring at the door; "Where's my…" he began, but to his surprise, he found his belongings in a neat pile on the opposite side of the room. "That's strange," Sokka said as he gathered his things in his arms; "If we're being held captive… why leave my weapon?" he looked at his sister.
"Maybe… we're not?" Katara asked, rising.
She went to the door, and slowly slid it open. The smell of stew wafted in, and immediately Sokka was cured of his wariness. Katara saw an elderly man tossing chopped vegetables into the stew, while he laughed good-naturedly.
"Oh, that was a time, getting that beast down!" the elderly man said through his mirth; "Of course, it took your prowess to render it harmless."
"Well, fire in itself is very persuasive…"
Katara gasped at the other voice. Eyes darting around, she saw the back of General Iroh by the door, the afore mentioned man facing the world outside.
"Ah, young water maiden, I am pleased to see you've risen!"
Katara looked at the elderly man timidly; "Wh-what's going on?" she asked, "Who are you?"
"And what's he doing here?" Sokka barked, having seen Iroh.
Iroh abruptly turned, frowning; "That is no way to speak in the house of the man that saved your hides," he ground out.
"Oh, it's fine, Iroh," the elderly man said with a sigh, rising steadily. He walked over and held out his hand to Katara; "I am Atobai, resident tribesman of this village. And you are…?"
"Katara," she replied slowly, not returning the gesture.
Atobai let his hand fall and stepped back; "Care for some stew? It's fresh, with fish from the stream."
"Sure!" Sokka said, pushing past his sister and sitting down on a pillow.
"That's Sokka," Katara said; "Um… where is Aang?"
"Oh, well… hmmm," Atobai pursed his lips in thought; "I don't know, really. He stepped out for air not but an hour or so ago…"
"What!" Sokka cried, spitting out the soup that had been in his mouth.
"We have to find him!" Katara said, getting up; "We'll come back, though," she assure Atobai at his worried expression.
"Be careful, stay in the village's perimeters!" Atobai called, and then, he sighed.
"I'm a brooder!" he said joking, rubbing his brow.
Iroh chuckled; "Oh my, how many now, five?" he asked with another light laugh.
Aang hadn't stayed in the house long once Iroh had come. He had exited to find Momo, and Appa. As he walked through the village, he was surprised that no one paid him any mind. A glance, perhaps two, but that was all the Avatar received. In a way, he was deeply thankful for it. Aang found the resident silence of the village a comfort as well. This relaxing downtime was much needed.
He finally came across a large, dome-shaped stable. Inside, there were stalls all around the sides, mostly filled with horses that would scrape at the doors with the hooves and snort at the imprisonment. Aang saw Momo and Appa in the center, atop a pile of hay, Appa slumbering while Momo nibbled on a peach. But at the sight of Aang, the flying lemur left his meal and with a squeal flew at Aang. Aang laughed as he caught Momo in a gracious hug.
"Hey, little guy!" Aang said, smiling as he looked at Momo; "How ya bin?"
Momo growled and emitted other sounds as he climbed onto Aang's shoulder; "Wanna go exploring?" he asked, and Momo chirruped in agreement.
After checking on Appa, Aang left and began walking around the village. Nothing was out of the ordinary. There were not that many children, most were toddlers and younger that Aang. Their mothers watched them with serene anxiety; content with the safety of the village, yet disheartened by past events. Aang noticed the general lack of men, as well.
But then he came to the field past the village. There were four rows of five, all men, training with swords, with three men at the head of the group. They all moved in time with each other, emitting sounds of power at each change in exercise. Transfixed, Aang sat down to watch. How the swords gleamed in the sun, how they never wavered. It was an art, of sorts, a rhythmic dance of time and tradition. But it was deadly, Aang knew.
These men were training for war.
Aang noticed one boy who must have been no older than thirteen, Aang's age. He was in the front row, with his face set in such seriousness his age could have been mistaken right at that moment. His dark hair was held back merely by a green headband, his clothing, too large, billowing around him. What struck Aang as odd was the boy's sword; it was nearly as long as all the others', and they were easily at least five to thirty years older than he was.
Then, the session ended. The group bowed to their teachers, and sheathed their swords. And steadily, they men began acting human. As they all separated to go their ways, laughter and chatter became evident in the air. Aang noticed the boy walking his way, up the path, and rushed to greet him.
"Hey!" Aang said; "That was really cool! I'm Aang, what's your name?"
His exuberance had the boy taken aback slightly; "I'm Alec," he replied; "Are you… the Avatar?" he gasped, eyes wide.
"Um, yeah," Aang said, looking down for a moment. Then he was looking up and excitedly; "Hey, what was the sword training about?"
"Oh, that?" Alec asked, thumbing at the now empty field; "We do that every afternoon. It's just 'precautionary', Atobai calls it so."
"Oh," Aang said, nodding; "Hey, wanna go play? I'm sure you're bored of work!"
"No, not really," Alec said as he began walking. The tip of the sheath left a tiny line along the ground as he did.
Crestfallen, Aang hurried to catch up; "Really? Not even for a little bit?"
"Nope," Alec said; "I have to help my mother, anyway. Do you want to help me though? She'd like that."
"Uh, sure!"
As they walked, they talked of the village, and of Aang's travels. Alec was curious about the outside world, about the lands across the oceans, and Aang was happy to nourish his friend's imagination. But as they neared the houses at the top of the hill, Alec suddenly smiled widely and broke into a run.
"NAOMI!" he cried; "NAOMI!"
Aang looked ahead, and saw the girl who had been humming from earlier. But also with her was Prince Zuko. Aang slowed drastically.
Naomi smiled and laughed as she opened her arms to hug Alec; "Hello, Alec!" she said, ruffling his hair as they parted; "How was training?"
"It was good! Mohan is getting sloppy, though!" Alec replied. Suddenly, his face fell apathetic as he looked at Zuko. And steadily, he glared.
"Alec, this is a guest of our village, Prince Zuko," Naomi said.
"I know who he is," Alec muttered; "What do you want here?" he asked the Prince sharply.
"Nothing," Zuko replied flatly; "Just a safe place to rest up."
Aang finally reached them. Naomi looked at him and smiled; "Ah, Avatar, good to see you up!" she said; "Did you rest well?"
"Yeah, I did, thanks," Aang said, eyes never leaving Zuko.
"What brings you here, Avatar?" Zuko asked in a wavering tone as he tried to keep it from rising in volume and intensity.
"Same as you, I guess," Aang replied lowly; "The storm, mostly."
"It was a bad storm," Naomi quipped in an effort to displace the tension; "Were you showing Aang around?" she asked Alec.
"Sorta," Alec said, then he ushered for Naomi to bend down so he could whisper in his ear; "My brother sent us a scroll the other day."
Naomi gasped; "Really?" she asked, looking at him, searching for a joke.
But the child spoke true, and he nodded; "He escaped! He's on his way!"
Zuko eyed the two, unsure of what they were saying. The young boy was an obvious member of the Earth Nation, judging by his complexion and clothing. He eagerly spoke of someone, and the news delighted Naomi. With a shrug that went unnoticed, the Prince stared Aang down again. The Avatar was unmoving, acting on the same impulse to best him n
Naomi smiled, "That makes my day complete!" she exclaimed; "I must go tell my grandfather! Zuko, come on!"
The Prince finally broke his staring match with the Avatar, and followed her. Alec shook his head and crossed his arms as he glared at the Prince's retreating back.
"He better not move in on Naomi," Alec muttered as they continued on; "First, she won't allow it, and second, my brother would bury him so far down, he'd be in Hell."
"Does your brother like Naomi that much?" Aang asked.
"Yeah, and he can Bend," Alec said; "Well, come on in!" he said as they stopped outside a hut; "Mother's making food for the festival tonight!"
"…Festival?"
"Grandfather, Grandfather!"
Atobai jumped, standing quickly as Naomi came rushing into the garden; "Oh my, Naomi!" he said with a laugh; "Kill your old grandfather, won't you? What has you smiling so?"
Zuko left her to tell her grandfather as he went to the porch to sit with Iroh; "What's got her so wound up?" Iroh asked, and Zuko shrugged.
"Hell if I know," Zuko replied, settling down/
"Omaru, he is coming!" Naomi said as she jumped up and down.
Atobai frowned; "Really? That trouble maker!" he mumbled; "I told you I didn't want you to have anything to do with that boy! He's not but a thorn to your side, Naomi!"
"But grandpa! He's coming!" Naomi insisted; "He sent a scroll, he said he had escaped, that he was returning—!"
"Aye, and who's to say he doesn't have the Fire Nation on his tail?" Atobai snapped; "He's always been the sort for such attention!"
Naomi stilled, frowning; "Can you not be happy that one of our own is returning?"
"He has never truly been one of our own, Naomi," Atobai said; "He never took the right of passage. He never admitted his loyalty."
"For that is his way, to be unhindered," Naomi said quietly.
"Do you think, then, that he would let a young woman hinder him?"
Naomi was quite; "Love knows no bounds, grandpa," she said after a time; "He… he bears our symbols though, on his arm…"
"His one arm," Atobai stated, then he relented with a grumble; "He never took the entire right of passage."
"Circumstances forced him to stop…" Naomi said in her quiet, rebellious way.
Atobai frowned; "We will speak no more of this," he said, and then, he smiled kindly, a way to move over the tension; "The festival is tonight. Shouldn't you prepare?"
Naomi's hand clenched into a fist, and she bowed her head in respect before walking away.
"Festival?" Zuko asked, having heard the conversation between grandfather and daughter.
"Oh, it's an extravagant affair, and a fun one at that!" Iroh replied; "You'll see."
When evening befell the village, they retreated into the confines of the forest. The entire village was then settled in a large clearing. They had previously dined and drank, and now awaited for something spectacular.
Zuko sat beside Iroh and Atobai, Aang on the old man's other side. Katara sat next to him, and then, Sokka. Naomi was nowhere to be seen, but then she could be sitting elsewhere. But her fierce loyalty to her grandfather told him that was likely not the cause.
When everyone had settled and stilled, Atobai slowly rose to his feet, free without a cane. He strode to the center, tall and proud. With the charismatic, contagious smile of his, his voice echoed throughout the clearing as he spoke, powerful and ringing true.
"Brethren, welcome!" he began; "Tonight we honor our gods and the spirits, our forefathers and our ancestral beings. Tonight, we will honor these beings through song and dance, and prose. Now, I give you…" Zuko saw him reach into a pocket, but in a flash it was as if his hand had not moved. With a nostalgic laugh Atobai jumped up and threw down what occupied his palm, and suddenly he burst into flame.
The crowd gasped in horror and surprise. Zuko was even shocked. He had readied to rise when suddenly he smelt sulfur at his side and Atobai was sitting down. But Zuko's attention was drawn elsewhere as the sound of drums exploded from everywhere. The drummers came from the forest, chanting to the beats their hands produced. Two girls bounded over them, cart wheeling and jumping. Dressed in bright colors, mostly orange and red, with bangles on their wrists and ankles they danced around the bonfire Atobai had left behind.
Together they began to paint a tail, and Zuko realized that their movements depicted flashes of Fire Nation history. When the girls were through, they disappeared in a gush of smoke. And in their wake, three young men dressed in blues and blacks did the same. Their faces painted in the art of war, they fought and danced in a timeless manner. After them, another maid in green. She seemed to glide across the ground, her dress gracing the ground and her movements fluid, and steady.
But when the maiden had finished her dance, the drums stopped, and the fire somehow dwindled to mere embers. There was to be no show for the Air Nation, Zuko realized. My people… he thought with guilt, looking over and seeing Atobai and Aang both to have bowed their heads in somber reality. He too, lowered his gaze, ashamed. I will rectify this one day, he vowed silently. Avatar or no, there had been no reason for such genocide.
THUMP.
A single, long note echoed through the clearing as the drummers all beat at once. Then, again.
THUMP.
Zuko looked up, wondering what was going on. That was supposed to be it. His eyes darted around as the drumbeat increased, ominous and laced with tension. Powerful, enigmatic… a slew of descriptions filled his head, but none could get quite as accurate as memorial. Through the smoke, there was light, as two women made their way through the crowds, bearing lanterns with lightening bugs and other insects that produced a glow. Solemn, regal, beautiful, they placed the lanterns side by side in the ashes of the fire. Then, their movements turned deadly fierce. Suddenly swords were in their hands and they were dancing a routine forged on the battlefield.
These women were warriors.
Zuko saw the tattoos along their arms and torsos, harsh contrasts to their skin. Breathtakingly complicated they seemed, no, they were. Transfixed, he along with the others watched with bated breaths. With each fall the women's feet took, the drums would match in harsh compliance, loud and demanding.
And then another figure jumped into the fray. Clad in black cloths that covered her chest and hips, and then flowed elegantly around, having two shields in her hands was Naomi. She jumped between the clashing warriors, shields catching the swords. A resounding clang ensued, and the clearing was deathly quiet.
Aang watched with wide eyes, waiting. He had grasped the stories the performers told through their art, and now he clung desperately for the ending. He watched as Naomi lowered the shields, the blades falling with her. The women had faces of surprise and mild outrage, but Naomi merely kept her head bowed. Steadily, the drums picked up again. Slow, unsure, they rose. The older women laid their blades on the grown, and Naomi laid her shields down as well. They backed away from them, and the two women began to dance around, matching the beat of the drums with the ways they moved their hands and the moments when they feet touched and left the ground. Naomi, in her persona, seemed unsure as to whom to follow, who to mimic. So, she combined the moves of both women, soon mastery the arts before her.
Their dance was captivating. The drummers were so intent with this piece.
"What's it all mean?" Aang whispered to Atobai, now confused.
Atobai grinned, and leaning down he replied softly; "These three women represent our way of life. A woman brings new life into the world. She is strong and able to carry the burdens of her family. She is compassionate and understanding. And when she is a warrior, she is deadly, able to defend her life and others. She responds well with change, and knows her place when it comes to power and will.
"And that is who we are, Aang." Atobai finished; "We wish new life into the world of our Nation, we are willing to carry its burdens. We grasp every view and concept. And we will fight to defend such a change."
The dance drew to a close with the women bounding away and leaving Naomi with a single lantern. She held it in her hands, and closing her eyes, she blew the flame out. The drums died as well, echoes of their heartbeats lingering like the smoke. After a time, the crowd cheered. Naomi backed away from the circle, disappearing in the dark, and quickly another bonfire was lit. Atobai sprang up, and laughing he took to the center.
"What a spectacular ceremony!" He exclaimed; "Now, we will adjourn for the evening, but you may all feel free to stay behind and continue in the festivities…!"
As Atobai continued, Zuko slipped away. He carefully made his way down a path; sure it would take him back to the village. He had gotten a headache from all of the drumming. Not that it was a bad show or anything; Zuko was just a fan of quiet, when it was available. The show had made him think, though…
As he began to quietly pick his way through the underbrush, he realized that he had ventured to the edge of the forest; he had gone the wrong way. Groaning and cursing under his breath Zuko found himself out in the clearing, standing just before the hill began to tumble downward. He kicked at the grass, but as he began to turn and venture back into the undergrowth, he heard talking. Dropping down, he used cunning stealth to creep up on the conversation.
"I came back, for you." A voice that was convincingly male, young and tired.
"I know…" unmistakably, Naomi. So soft and insecure.
"Then why…?"
"You should keep going. You're not safe here."
"Keep going? This is the safest place I know! And I have three others with me! Three people being hunted by the Fire Nation! They need to be here more than anything. I need to be here…"
"But… the village, I... you…!"
Zuko edged closed, looking over the tall grass, and he saw the two. Naomi was standing aside, facing the open land with her arms crossed. Behind her was a young man, tall and well built. He had shaggy, untamed hair, some pulled back into a loose ponytail but most hanging around his eyes, obscuring most of his face. He wore clothing travel worn and tattered; a simple, sleeveless tunic, pants tucked into knee-high boots. Zuko saw the glint of a sword in the moonlight.
Suddenly, the young man seemed frustrated; "Naomi, look!" he suddenly said, holding up a fist. Zuko saw a bandaged forearm. Naomi gasped when she turned and saw.
"Omaru…what…?" she asked, watching as he unraveled the bandages.
The young man, Omaru, finished, and clutched the bandages in one hand, while he held out an upturned wrist to Naomi. "I did this for you, for the village," he said quietly yet full of emotion; "I was beaten for it, tortured, threatened… I nearly died for this!" he paused, watching as Naomi traced the fine, dark lines of the tattoos; "This is what I fight for. See? Look on my wrist…"
Naomi gasped again; "My…my name?"
Omaru nodded; "When I… when I left, I found a tattooist to finish it. He… he asked me if he should put something symbolic," he laughed half-heartedly, "He didn't understand it, I didn't tell him its story. I replied 'I no not what would make this complete', and then… I thought of you, standing here, watching for me. I told him to put your name on my wrist."
"Omaru, do you realize what you've done?" Naomi gasped; suddenly away form his as if he was diseased.
"I know exactly what I did, Naomi," Omaru said testily; "I put hope into my skin! Yeah, your name isn't part of a ritual, you do not share the name of any deity…" he stepped closer, turned her around and stared at her. "This tattoo symbolizes strength, and loyalty. It symbolizes commitment and passion, residence to everything that may oppose its purpose. And I am that to you, Naomi."
Naomi seemed heartbroken; "Why?" she whispered.
Omaru stepped even closer; "I could not come up with the right words, the reality leaves me speechless."
Zuko wanted to gag. It had to be one of the most poignant, tragic love scenes he had ever bore witness to. Not that he was supposed to be seeing this. It was entertaining though. Omaru's arrival was bound to stir up drama of some kind, and Zuko would stay out of it. But he was curious about the other teen's origins, and why he spoke so bitterly of his recent adventures.
Naomi's eyes shown with tears, and quickly as the fell, Omaru wiped them away. Zuko wanted to leave, but now he was too close, it would be too easy to be heard, to be spotted. Inwardly groaning, he settled into the grass.
The two merely stood together then, studied each other. Finally, Naomi looked down; "You must hide this," she said quietly, taking the bandages and beginning to hide the tattoos; "Not even I had the right to see them now…"
"And here you stand, bearing all you hide," Omaru said quietly.
Zuko had to agree, he had a point. Naomi was still in her ceremonial clothing, her arms and torso revealed. Eyes trailing down, Zuko saw she had a tattoo on her ankle and trailing up her calf as well… he assumed that there was another like it on her other leg.
Zuko rolled his eyes and lay down, settling in for a long wait. But to his surprise, there was silence. Zuko frowned and stared up at the twinkling sky. The spirits must be laughing now, he thought. Sighing, he closed his eyes…
But they snapped open as someone kicked him hard in the side, rolling him over. Zuko was lost for breath; "Omaru, it's the Fire Prince!" his attacker called.
Zuko looked up in time to see that a Teen Earth Bender stood over him, a rock floating in the air above his hand. The teen looked familiar, vaguely. Omaru was quickly upon the scene, Naomi as well.
"Omaru, no!" Naomi was saying; "He is a guest to our village!"
"He's a damned spy, that's what he is!" the Earth Bender said angrily, the rock wobbly dangerously with a sudden charge of emotion from its wielder.
"Haru, if Naomi says so, then he is," Omaru said. Then, he turned his gaze to Zuko; "You've heard much of what you shouldn't have, Prince."
How he said the title with such scorn and disdain made Zuko's blood boil. He got up, eyeing the teen; "Well I was walking back to the village and I got lost. I heard the talking and panicked."
"Lie," Haru said; "You've been lying there for nearly half an hour! I've watched you! I didn't make a move until I knew who you were."
Zuko stared undauntedly at Haru; "You accuse me of eavesdropping on such a private moment?" he asked.
"Yes," Haru replied strongly, not backing down.
Zuko did not look away; "Then you are mistaken," his gaze softened when he looked at Naomi; "Would you kindly take me to the village? I think I'm lost."
Naomi nodded, and then looked at Omaru; "Please, stay here for the night," she said quietly; "Are there any others with you?"
"No, just Haru and myself," Omaru said; "Naomi, at least let us escort you…" he gaze drifted to Zuko, cold and unforgiving.
"Omaru, I will be fine," she said; "Now go, before the villagers see you."
"Tomorrow morning, I will come home, Naomi."
TBC
a/n: well, review?