Chapter 5: Mother

Rain pelted her skin, sinking deep into her hair, her clothes. She had been angry—angry about something. But she didn't feel angry anymore. Just cold.

A crack of lightning split the sky, illuminating the path ahead. She squinted at the twisted dirt trail, and through the icy mist she suddenly made out a figure. The figure knelt in the mud, back to her, hunched over as though in pain.

Katara felt something new through the cold—concern. Someone needed her help.

She approached, the sound of her own footsteps drowned by the pounding of the rain. Yet as she neared, she discerned a new sound—hitched breathing, a low keen like a wounded animal. Broken every now and again by a quiet, breathless sob.

The figure wore a long cloak, hood over head. However, as Katara stopped just a few paces away, something about the voice seemed familiar. A voice that, even through the pain and despair, was full of quiet strength and kindness. Katara stretched out a hand, fingers trembling.

"Mom?" she whispered.

The figure—a woman—stopped crying. She rose gracefully to her feet, before she turned. With both hands, she carefully drew back her hood, just as lightning rent the sky behind her, briefly casting her face in deepest shadow. The light faded—to reveal a face all too familiar.

Katara stumbled backward, horrified, hands rising defensively.

Sharp twin bangs framed her face, with night-black hair pulled back into a royal topknot. Her eyes a deep gold.

Azula.

Katara's hands shifted, ready to slice the water in the air around them forward in an attack—but then she hesitated. Azula didn't smile at her with terrible vindictive cruelty, or shift forward to strike with deadly precision. Instead, she simply gazed back at Katara serenely.

Katara noticed for the first time that she wasn't quite the same—though she wore her hair in a topknot, some of it had been left to flow freely, like Katara wore hers. Azula's normally flawless skin buckled about her eyes and mouth with age, and her frame was willowy, rather than the lean coiled muscle of a leopard-viper. But it was her eyes that seemed the most changed—gentle, and filled with sadness.

Katara stared back at her. Then she whispered hoarsely, "Are you—Zuko's mother?"

The woman didn't reply, only glanced back out toward the distant muddy path. Even in the rain, the streaks of tears that covered her face were unmistakable.

Katara swallowed, then said softly, "What's wrong?" She took a step forward, hand automatically reaching out—to do whatever small thing she could to help her.

"My son," she whispered, and in spite of the almost majestic strength in her calm features, her voice broke. "My son is dead."

Zuko? Zuko dead? Katara opened her mouth to answer—to reassure her that he wasn't dead, that he was just helping the Avatar. That he had never forgotten her, that they would be together soon, that he would be so happy to see her.

Instead, cold words she had not intended seemed to punch their way from her throat.

"He was a monster," Katara said. "He was a monster, and he deserved it."

The woman's expression, sad and kind at once, didn't change. "Perhaps," she murmured. "But I loved him just the same."

Katara was about to reply—whether with her own words or those chosen for her, she was not sure—but then her eyes fell on something on the path, just beyond the woman. A dark mass in the rain.

Katara stared at it, and she made out something seeping from it along the cracks in the muddy ground. A liquid heavier than water. Lightning cut the sky again.

Katara jolted awake.

For a moment, she sat in the darkness, her chest heaving as though she had sprinted across a field, cold sweat trickling down her face.

She covered her mouth, nausea roiling in her stomach, trying to claw its way up her throat.

She remained there for several long minutes, waiting for the sickness to pass. It didn't—and at last she carefully pulled back the silken sheets, trying not to disturb Suki still sleeping on her side in the dark. And, hand still clamped over her mouth, she made her way quietly from the room.

Katara stole quickly along the edge of the courtyard, with only the silver light of the moon to light her way. At last she found what she was looking for—several of the ceramic basins she had been using to store water, both for waterbending practice and for cooking. She found one that was empty and, falling to her knees, she leaned over and heaved out the contents of her stomach.

Katara panted as she wiped the pale, watery substance from her mouth with the back of her hand. The smell of vomit made her light-headed, as sounds played in her mind—a gurgling scream, the splash of a liquid heavier than water.

Katara bent over the basin again, retching, though she had nothing more to give.

At last she slumped forward, limp with exhaustion, her throat burning. She closed her eyes, trying not to think.

"Katara?"

Katara stiffened. She opened her eyes, and turned them reluctantly in the direction of the dark courtyard.

Zuko was standing there, of course. At another time, she might have asked him if he ever slept—as it was, for a moment she froze, unable to react.

Zuko began awkwardly, "I... couldn't sleep again. So I was... just going through some firebending forms..." He trailed off, then half raised a hand toward her. "Are you okay?"

Katara didn't want to talk to anyone right now, least of all Zuko. Through her muddy thoughts she tried to figure out the best way to get away. Her hands curled around the lip of the basin, and she forced herself to her feet.

"I..." she began. "I must have... eaten something that didn't agree with me." She made the corners of her mouth turn up in what she hoped passed as a reassuring smile. "I'm... fine. I'm just going to go back to bed."

Zuko didn't look particularly reassured, and he took another uncertain step toward her. "Are you sure? Do you want me to go get Sokka, or—"

"I'm fine!" Katara snapped.

Zuko blinked, startled. He stopped.

Katara turned her back on him. "Nobody needs to be worrying about a little indigestion right now, we have bigger things to think about."

"...Okay," Zuko said cautiously.

Katara waited, hoping he would leave. She listened for his retreating footsteps—however, there were none.

At last she said harshly, "Don't you think you should be trying harder to get some sleep? Aang is counting on you, you're not going to be much of a teacher like this."

Zuko hesitated. Then at last he said again, "...Okay." This time she heard the quiet padding of his shoes, as he made his way back across the courtyard, away.

When she was sure he was gone, she picked up the basin, and headed back through the building, and down to the beach.

With a flick of her fingers, she quickly directed the contents of the basin to dump themselves out into the water, then drew a small globe of clean water from the ocean to scour the bottom, until it was more spotless than it had been before. Then she knelt down next to the water's edge, and cupped some in her hands. She washed out the inside of her mouth, before scrubbing vigorously at her face, drawing the remnants of sweat from her skin.

She stood. She stared out at the water for a moment—before she kicked suddenly at the sand. She turned and headed back inside, knowing she wouldn't be getting any more sleep that day.

It was not a good morning.

Katara decided to get started on the stew before anyone else was up, but somehow it managed to burn. After dumping it all out to start again, she grabbed a different pot to use, which turned out to be one of the old ones rather than the new from the kitchen, which had been wearing through for a long time. She inadvertently punched a hole through the bottom, and so she was in the middle of the third batch when everyone started getting up and mulling around.

Katara was ready to bark at anyone who spoke to her—however, the first person to greet her was Aang, who gave her a cheery wave and said with his usual bright smile, "Good morning, Katara!"

Katara felt too guilty to take her bad mood out on Aang, and so reluctantly gave him a half smile. "...Morning, Aang."

Katara was silent through breakfast, but no one seemed to notice as Sokka cracked jokes about the Fire Nation nobility's taste in plays, Suki laughed, Toph poked holes in Sokka's critiques, and Aang played with Momo.

Only Zuko shot occasional glances her way, but Katara pointedly ignored him.

"Okay," Aang said when everyone was finished, and had laid down their bowls. "What are we doing today, Sifu?"

Zuko, who had been frowning off into the distance, blinked, and glanced at Aang. "You need to go over the forms until they're second nature. But more than that—you still need to work on thinking like a firebender. You're still not aggressive enough."

Aang nodded seriously. "Then let's get started. I'm ready for a full day of training!"

"Sure you are." Toph was reclining back with hands behind her head. "You'll be serious about training for five minutes before you're off playing games in the sand."

"There's nothing wrong with playing games," Sokka said, sighing lazily, arm slung casually around Suki's shoulders. "What's the point of staying in the Fire Lord's beach house if you can't enjoy it?"

Katara got up and took everyone's bowls and utensils, collecting them into a stack. "I'm going to... go wash these up," she said.

While the others mulled around, heading out onto the beach to watch Zuko and Aang train, Katara headed to the other side of the courtyard, finding a filled water basin for the washing. She wanted to be alone—the laughter and jokes in the sun felt incongruous, and ground at her nerves.

However, as Katara placed her hand on the basin's lip, her gaze fell briefly on her reflection in the water. She stared down at it for a moment—it wasn't immediately noticeable, but if she looked close, she could see the faint dark circles beneath her eyes, her hair slightly frayed. A face haggard with lack of sleep.

Katara's mouth twisted, and with a hand she slapped the surface of the water, causing ripples to flicker across its surface, making her face disappear.

Stupid dream. That man—he hadn't even had the shred of humanity enough to care about his own mother. Whoever his mother was, she shouldn't mourn his loss. She should just be glad to be rid of him.

Katara hesitated, then slowly reached into a pouch she had sewn under one of the loose flaps of cloth on her Fire Nation clothing. She withdrew the strip of blue cloth, the carefully carved Water Tribe ornament attached by a tiny clasp at its center.

Her mother's necklace. Katara might not have been able to wear it openly in the Fire Nation, but she always kept it with her.

Katara held the necklace in her hand, the cool stone of the ornament resting against her palm. Of course, she already knew vengeance wasn't what her mother would have wanted. She probably would have told Katara that all she wanted was for Katara to be happy.

Except—this had been the only way Katara could be happy. Not happy in what she had done—but making sure he didn't exist anymore, that he wasn't living safe and secure and free. That was the only way she could find peace. She had to find peace first, before she could be happy.

Only—she didn't feel peaceful now. She still felt angry—and confused, and sick.

Katara stared down at the necklace, trying to draw strength from it. She pictured her mother's kind face—only his face flashed through her thoughts again instead. His sharp, cold features beneath his dark helmet, eyes filled with cruelty. Followed by the image of her mother's still, blackened form, her once kind face unrecognizable...

A wave of fury tore through her, and for a moment Katara wished he wasn't dead—wished she could do it all over again, make him feel more pain, more fear, for what he had done. She should have watched his face as the end came—was that the real problem? Was the reason she couldn't seem to feel full closure, because she had looked away, instead of seeing him die? Was that why, even now, he didn't seem fully dead?

Katara leaned over the basin, suddenly exhausted, drained. Her head felt heavy.

She glanced down at the floor, and it took her a moment to realize she had dropped her mother's necklace. She bent and picked it up, carefully brushing bits of dust from its surface.

"Hey... watch it, Zuko!"

The sound of voices from out front drifted back to her, and Katara blinked, turning. Leaving the dishes, still piled untouched next to the basin, Katara walked back across the courtyard, through the house.

She emerged out the front entrance, to find Aang and Zuko facing each other, hands raised in their usual firebending stances. Sokka and Suki were lounging on the front steps as usual, watching, while Toph was some ways down the beach, fingers making a small stream of sand race around in circles, face bored.

"You need to be more ferocious!" Zuko snapped. "Roar like a tigerdillo! Imagine striking through your opponent's heart!"

"I'm trying," Aang answered, with obvious rising frustration.

"Try harder!" Zuko demanded. "My father's not going to play nice, and you can't either. You're being too soft!"

"What's going on?" Katara asked.

Sokka shrugged a shoulder. "Aang's learning firebending, like he has every day. Zuko's kind of been on the warpath this morning." He added, "I know, I know, we seem so lazy—but I was just thinking how maybe we can throw a beach party to change things up a bit. I have this great idea for how I can make a sculpture of Suki out of sand." He paused, then glanced at Suki beside him. "Oops, that was supposed to be a surprise."

Suki giggled. "I'd like that."

"No," Katara said. "I mean, why are you just sitting there, letting Zuko talk to Aang like that?"

Suki seemed to notice the deadly edge in Katara's tone for the first time, and she glanced back up at Katara in confusion.

Sokka was unconcerned. "We let Toph talk to him like that all the time. It's called tough love, Katara. Everybody knows Aang is too nice, and Zuko wants to beat it out of him before he has to face the Fire Lord."

"You're not listening," Zuko snapped again. "I want to hear you roar like a tigerdillo—I said roar!" And, to punctuate his words, he punched a blast of fire directly at Aang.

They had been standing only a few Momo-lengths apart, and Aang barely had time to sidestep out of the way of the flames. However, his eyes had wandered briefly back toward Katara and the others when he saw she was there, and he hadn't been quite prepared—the heated air at the very edge of the wave caught the side of one of his hands. Aang pressed the hand with his other palm, wincing slightly. "Ow."

For a second, Katara saw red—and, with a large sweep of her arms, she drew a giant wave of water from the ocean beyond, where it lept over Toph's head. With a sharp chopping motion of her hand, she brought it down in the exact spot between where Zuko and Aang stood, where it froze in a wall of ice.

Katara stalked forward, shoulders hunched, fists clenched, until she came to stand next to Aang, slightly in front him. With a twist of her hand, the wall collapsed in a surge of icy water, which splashed against Zuko's clothes as it fell.

"That's enough," she snapped. "What are you doing? You're supposed to be teaching Aang firebending, not acting like a bully. You're going to hurt him!"

"Um, Katara?" Aang said nervously, holding up his hand. "It's okay, I'm fine. See—?"

Zuko looked startled for a moment, before he squared his shoulders, setting his mouth in a grim line. "There's no time left," he said in a rasp. "The comet is three days away—he needs to be ready to do what he needs to do by then, but he's not."

"Of course Aang's not going to fight Ozai in three days," Katara shot back. "The whole point of Aang defeating the Fire Lord before the comet was to stop the Fire Nation winning the war—which they already did when they took Ba Sing Se. Things already can't get any worse. Aang still needs time to train—he'll face the Fire Lord, but not in three days."

As Katara spoke, Zuko had frozen, his face gray as ash. His mouth moved wordlessly—before at last he whispered, "You have no idea. No idea."

He half turned away from them, directing his eyes toward the shifting shadows of the trees.

He murmured, "A hundred years ago, my great-grandfather used the comet's power to wipe out the Air Nomads. Now... if Aang doesn't defeat my father in time..."

He turned back to them grimly. "He'll lay waste to the Earth Kingdom. If you wait, there won't be anything left to save."

Katara didn't move, didn't breathe. The words punched a hole straight through her anger, and suddenly everything else seemed small and unimportant. Images of their friends from the Earth Kingdom flashed through her mind—the young couple headed to Ba Sing Se, Haru, Teo. And Toph and Suki, too—Suki's people of Kyoshi Island, Toph's parents.

"How do you..." Katara whispered faintly. "Are you really sure that..."

Zuko continued in the same painful rasp, "That's what he said." He gave a low, bitter laugh. "My first war meeting since I was banished. I thought it was everything I wanted—my father had finally accepted me back. But once I had his love and acceptance, I realized I'd lost myself getting there. I'd… forgotten who I was."

As though underwater, Katara felt herself sink slowly to her knees in the sand.

Aang was staring at nothing, eyes wide—but he suddenly spun, angry. "Why didn't you tell me sooner?" he demanded.

"I thought you were going to fight him before the comet!" Zuko shot back. "Nobody told me you had decided to wait."

It was true—they'd never talked about their plans properly with Zuko before. They'd just assumed they were all on the same page.

However, Katara was barely listening. Instead, she could only see the faces—the faces of all their friends they had met on their travels. What had happened to Aang's people, her mother, happening to so many more.

Katara slowly turned her head, and saw that Aang had wandered several paces away, and now he too was kneeling in the sand, his shoulders bent under the weight of all the pain and misery and heartache that would come if he didn't prevent it.

Katara wanted to comfort him somehow—to tell him everything would be all right. But she couldn't seem to think. To breathe.

"This is bad," Aang said, his head in his hands. "Really, really... bad."

Katara gazed at him. More than ever he seemed no more than a small child—lost, afraid.

Katara swallowed, and finally found the strength to force herself to her feet. She approached, then knelt down in front of where he was still on his knees.

"Aang," she said softly. He blinked, and his hands fell slightly, enough that his eyes met hers.

She glanced away for a moment—then raised her eyes back to his, with determination now, trying to find strength enough in herself so she could somehow share it with him. "You know you... won't have to do this alone."

Uncertainty flickered in his face. However, it was gone so quickly she wasn't sure she might have imagined it.

Katara heard footsteps behind her, and in a moment she could feel the others standing beside her, all around them.

"Yeah," said Toph. "If we all fight the Fire Lord together, we got a shot at taking him down."

Sokka punched at the air in triumph. "Yes! Team Avatar is back! Watch out, Fire Lord, we're coming for you!"

Katara had pushed herself back to her feet, and Aang followed suit. He turned toward the others and gave a wan but grateful smile.

They all stood there a moment, looking at each other. At last Sokka said, glancing at Katara, "So, um, are we going to do a group hug now or something?"

Katara had to blink to bring herself out of her reverie, and she glanced around at the others. "Yeah. Right." She awkwardly raised her hands, placing one around Sokka's back. However, she didn't reach for Aang with the other, instead letting Toph crowd in, filling the space between them.

"Hey," Toph said after a second. "I think someone's missing."

She didn't turn her head, but Sokka and Suki both craned their necks in Zuko's direction, where he hung back, looking uncomfortable.

"Get over here, Zuko," Sokka said, letting go of Katara to gesture with two fingers. "On this team, group hugs are not optional."

Zuko shot him a surly look, then, grumbling to himself, reluctantly approached.

Sokka gestured to him again, and Zuko reluctantly took up the space between Sokka and Katara. She sensed Zuko glance at her, but she didn't look back.

"This is going to be the hardest thing we've ever done," Aang murmured, almost to himself. He smiled around at them. "But I wouldn't want to do it any other way."

Appa must have sensed the team bonding, because he floated up into the air, where he had been resting just a little ways away, then landed back on the beach with a heavy thud. They all went sprawling across the sand in a heap of arms and legs.

After a moment, Aang finally laughed, and reached up to rub Appa's nose. "You too? Thanks, buddy."

Katara disentangled herself from the others, pulling a few steps away.

"So what should we do first?" Suki asked, as she helped pull Sokka to his feet.

Sokka tapped his chin thoughtfully. "I've had this idea for some practical training for a while. It'll take a little while to set up, but—" He glanced at Aang. "Maybe you and Zuko can just keep working on firebending for a while until we get back."

Zuko turned to Aang. "There's one technique I haven't shown you yet—it's dangerous, but it could save your life. You could definitely use it against my father."

Aang swallowed, before his mouth set in determination, and he nodded once.

Sokka clapped his hands together. "Great, sounds like a plan. First, Toph, we're going to need your earthbending, to see if there's any oil reserves we can tap into underground. We're going to need something that will burn."

Toph rubbed her hands together gleefully. "Oh, I'm on it."

"Then, Suki, I'm going to need you to get us the biggest melon you can find."

Suki raised an eyebrow, arms folded. When Sokka gave her his signature Are-you-questioning-my-brilliant-plans look, she sighed and rolled her eyes. "Fine."

Katara waited for Sokka to assign her a task. However, he only turned in the direction of the trees, Suki following not far behind.

"Wait," Katara said, stepping forward. "What about me?"

Sokka paused and glanced back. With a sigh, he came back, then, with a hand on her shoulder, deftly led her a few paces away from where Aang stood with Zuko.

He leaned close to her ear and said in a low voice, "I think you should stick close to Aang for now. You know, keep his spirits up. You're better at that than the rest of us. Mr. Forever-Frowny-Face is not going to be any help."

For some reason, Katara felt her fingers tighten slightly, and she heard herself whisper back waspishly, "Why? Because I'm a crybaby who talks about hope all the time?"

Sokka beamed at her with pride. "Exactly! Hope, that's your thing. And that's what Aang needs right now."

Katara folded her arms, and Sokka poked her in the shoulder, giving her a light push back in Zuko and Aang's direction. He gave her a thumb's up, before running on to catch up with Suki again.

Katara turned back toward Zuko and Aang, and saw that they were watching her. Katara approached reluctantly.

"Um," Aang said. "Are you coming with us?" His face was at once both plaintive and hopeful, and even if she had been planning on making the excuses she would have liked, she couldn't have.

She forced a smile. "Yeah. I'll watch. I should probably rest before whatever training Sokka wants to do anyway."

Aang's returning smile was wide.

"I think this is a technique you'll be interested in," Zuko said to her. "It's one my uncle invented, from watching waterbenders."

Katara didn't meet his eyes, just strode past him toward the courtyard.

Katara found a place to sit in the shade of an overhang on one side of the courtyard, while Zuko and Aang took up stances near the fountain. They bowed to each other in respect, before Zuko started in, explaining what they would be doing.

Momo had come to curl up in Katara's lap, and she held him in her arms. Zuko called the technique lightning redirection—powerful firebenders had the ability to generate lightning, and apparently another firebender could absorb a bolt of lightning, let it flow along a path of energy in the body, and point it back anywhere they liked.

Or that was what Katara understood. She wasn't really listening that closely. In spite of the horror they had just learned, what Ozai planned to do to the Earth Kingdom, the thing that kept going through her mind now was the look Aang had given her when she had told him he wouldn't have to do this alone. He had looked—disconcerted. What had he been thinking in that moment? That, if there was someone to be killed, she would be the first one to volunteer?

Momo gave a screech, and she realized her hands had inadvertently tightened around him. She let go as he flapped away, though not before he gave her what she thought was a reproachful look.

"Right, Katara?"

Katara blinked, and it took her a second to realize Zuko and Aang were both looking at her.

She tried to smile. "Sorry, what?"

Aang glanced at Zuko, then back at Katara. "The Spirit Water," he said. "If I made a wrong move with the lightning, you could bring me back. Like you did back at Ba Sing Se."

Back, what felt like years ago now, Katara had once used water from the spirit oasis in the North Pole to bring Aang back to life. She had felt in that water a power unlike any other, a spiritual energy so great it could even warp the boundaries of the human and spirit worlds. However—Master Pakku had only given her a little. She didn't know for sure, but she had a feeling it was a gift from the spirits, as thanks for bringing the world back into balance, and they wouldn't—or couldn't—have given more.

"Actually, I used it all up when Azula shot you," Katara admitted. It alarmed her slightly that Aang might have been counting on this as a failsafe all this time—they ought to have discussed this before.

Aang's shoulders sank. "Oh."

Zuko said bluntly, "You'll have to take the Fire Lord's life before he takes yours."

Aang tensed slightly. His eyes darted once to Katara, before quickly looking away. "Yeah," he said, though his tone was noncommittal. "I'll just... do that."

Zuko continued grilling Aang on the motions, again and again. Part of Katara wasn't sure about the technique. From what Zuko said, it seemed incredibly dangerous—it was all about absorbing the lightning into one's own body, and one wrong move would be fatal—and she wondered if it might actually be a greater risk to Aang for him to think of it as something he could rely on, when he was really only being shown how it worked in theory, without practice.

But then, there wasn't really a safe way to practice such a technique. And it might turn out to be exactly the solution Aang needed—to turn an enemy's intended strike back against him was, in some ways, not the same as striking out to kill. And lightning went such great distances; for it to happen that way might help it feel far away, impersonal. Aang shouldn't have to be torn up about killing the likes of Ozai, after everything Ozai had done. That wouldn't be fair.

The image from her dream flashed through her thoughts again. A woman, bent in the rain, sobbing quietly.

She looked on, as the two continued to train.

A/N: The gaang wasn't particularly good at properly communicating with Zuko in the show, but then, it did make for some good drama. (And also we needed a contextual reason for why that fun beach party the writers wanted to sneak in there as an opening was not totally out of place.)

Definitely an important chapter this time, and a bit of a turning point. As always, thanks so much for reading! If you have a moment, let me know what you thought, and hope to see you in the next one!

Posted 10/7/22