Water
Into Enemy Territory: Part 2
When Katara and Aang left him outside the sanctuary, Sokka kind of expected things to go wrong. Truthfully, he'd been expecting things to go wrong since they landed—no, since they left Senlin. Or since they left the South Pole. Or since they found Aang. Really, Sokka was always expecting things to go wrong, but he didn't feel bad about it, because the universe seemed intent on proving him right. After all, he was in the Fire Nation, surrounded by firebenders, and one of them was the prince of the firebenders. This was everything he'd warned Aang and Katara about.
He wouldn't even feel bad about gloating to them later.
But this—this was unexpected. Being chained to one of the columns made sense. Sokka was the enemy here, and enemies didn't let enemy warriors like Sokka run around unrestrained. But when an older man in a uniform much like Zuko's burst into the temple and chained Zuko up—well, that was interesting.
Sokka narrowed his eyes at the bound firebender. If the stream of blood from Zuko's nostril was any indication, Katara must have landed a pretty solid punch. Sokka swelled with pride. Being older brother to the Avatar was great and all, but it was nothing compared with being older brother to a girl who could give a Fire Nation prince a bloody nose. Bending-schmending. The next time they fought a firebender, Sokka hoped that Katara would knock one of their teeth out.
But as much as Sokka was enjoying this, it was weird. Too weird.
"Hey, Ponytail," Sokka hissed across the space. The prince glared at him, his good eye narrowed so that it almost matched the scarred one. "Mind telling me what's going on here?"
Zuko turned his nose up in what was probably meant to be a haughty gesture, but it just made a drop of blood splash down onto his chin. "I don't speak to peasants."
Sokka rolled his eyes. "You just did."
The firebender's glare darkened. "Do you have any idea who I am?"
Sokka considered. Of course he knew. But that didn't mean that he had to give Zuko the satisfaction of admitting it. "Yeah, you're some Fire Nation jerk with a banged-up ship. You keep picking fights with my baby sister and losing."
Zuko flushed scarlet all the way back to his stupid little ponytail. "I am Zuko, Crown Prince of the Fire Nation!" he roared, straining against his chains.
Sokka smirked. Whoever Mister Muttonchops was, he'd bound Zuko even more tightly than Sokka. This was a golden opportunity. Zuko couldn't actually do anything right now. And that meant that Sokka could say whatever he wanted.
"Well, I'm Sokka, Prince of the Southern Water Tribe." Sort of. Chiefdom wasn't strictly hereditary, but Dad was chief, and Dad's dad, and Grampa's dad—what Prince Temper-Tantrum didn't know wouldn't hurt him. "Take that, Ponytail Boy."
Zuko was positively quaking with rage now—his chains were rattling and everything. "You will call me by my correct title, peasant."
Sokka shrugged. "No thanks. Unless you want to start calling me Prince Sokka, that is."
Zuko's incoherent yell of rage earned the boys a glare from Mister Muttonchops. The older firebender was near the sanctuary door, fiddling with the mechanisms in an attempt to open it. The look of loathing in Zuko's eyes didn't escape Sokka's notice. Huh. If he didn't know better, he'd think that Zuko hated the other firebender more than Sokka.
"Seriously, what's going on? Isn't tying up a prince kind of frowned upon?" Sokka paused. "Not that I blame Captain Facial Hair. You are a royal pain."
It was a stupid joke, but the reaction was completely worth the trouble. Zuko sputtered and fumed and turned several interesting shades of red in quick succession. "I swear when I get out of here, I'll strangle you with my bare hands, Water peasant."
"Yeah, good luck with that," Sokka answered lazily. This was almost too easy. Like poking a platypus bear with a pointy stick, but this platypus bear was both immobile and too far away to do more than growl. "My little sister gave you a bloody nose, Prince Frowny-Face. Do you really think I couldn't take you?"
"That's Prince Zuko to you!"
A lazy shrug. "Whatever you say, man." This time, Zuko actually did growl. Sokka smirked. Being tied up had never been this fun before. "Hey, Zuko. Has anyone ever told you that your hair makes you look like an arctic rooster? It's uncanny." Was that actual steam coming out of his ears, or was that just a trick of the light? "I keep expecting you to start clucking and eating snow lice out of your feathers."
Zuko was so red that his scar had practically vanished. "I don't have f—" he shouted, then stopped himself. "Ugh!"
Sokka couldn't stop laughing. "You just—you just told me—" He leaned forward against the chains. Were it not for them, he'd be sitting on the ground, helpless with laughter. "That you don't have feathers!" he squeaked.
"That's not what I said!"
Sokka snorted. "Did you hear that, Sideburn Man? Your prince has a sense of humor!"
"I do not," Zuko snapped. But the anger in his expression vanished the moment that Muttonchops turned their way, replaced by steely hatred.
"I do not want to hear any more noise out of either of you," the soldier growled at them.
Sokka's laughter died on his lips. Muttonchops looked like he meant it. He was bigger than Sokka—bigger than Zuko too—and almost as old as Dad. Muttonchops might actually strangle him.
Still, Sokka had questions, and Zuko wasn't being very helpful about answering them. "Seriously, what is going on here?"
Zuko groaned and let his head thump back against his column. "Just gag the buffoon and be done with it, Zhao."
"Hey! That's Prince Buffoon to you, sunshine." The words burst out before Sokka could stop himself. Talking back to the prince was just too easy. It was becoming a reflex. "Why are you all here?" he added when he saw the older man's face twist.
Zhao—that was his name, right?—approached. He didn't scowl quite the same way Zuko did—his expression was more restrained, but the simmering look he gave Sokka was far more intimidating. "Prince Zuko came for the Avatar. I came to apprehend Prince Zuko." A pause, and Zhao looked back at the sanctuary doors, still apparently sealed. "I have my target. I see no reason why I should not claim his as well."
Zuko grumbled something that sounded like a curse and strained against his chains.
Sokka, however, wasn't satisfied. "Hold on. Apprehend Zuko? Why?" He spared a glance in Zuko's direction—the scarred side of his face was turned pointedly away. "I hate his guts too, but isn't royalty kind of a big thing with you people?"
"Royalty, yes." Zhao's voice was a smooth rumble, but Sokka didn't like the smirk on his face one bit. Zuko might have a bad case of just being evil, but Zhao was an evil shell stuffed with evil filling and drizzled with slimy evil-sauce for good measure. "Banished royalty, on the other hand—"
"I won't be banished after today!" Zuko's voice crackled with agitation or rage or something. "Once I capture the Avatar—"
"Hold up," Sokka interrupted. "That's why you've been chasing us and getting all grabby-hands with my sister? You're banished?" He almost wanted to laugh. Prince High-and-Mighty wasn't as great as he clearly thought he was.
Both firebenders turned their glares on him. Okay, this was less funny.
Zhao spoke first. "Your sister? Prince Zuko has been pursuing a Water Tribe girl?"
"As bait to capture the Avatar." Though he spoke through clenched teeth, Zuko's voice was remarkably even. "You know what happened to my ship the first time I tried. Setting a trap sounded safer."
What? Zuko knew very well that Katara was the Avatar—he had the busted-up ship to prove it. And come to think of it, Zuko had never come after Aang directly. Always Katara.
"Resorting to cheap tricks," Zhao said, sounding amused. "How very typical."
Zuko glared, the white-hot loathing burning in his eyes, but somehow he didn't erupt. "It's called strategy, Commander."
Strategy? Zuko? Sokka frowned. The prince's words sounded stiff, almost rehearsed—wait. Was he playing Zhao? And more impossibly, was it actually working?
"Feeble compensation for your own shortcomings," Zhao drawled. "A competent firebender—a competent prince wouldn't have to rely on tricks to capture a child."
Sokka looked from Zhao to Zuko, from Zuko to Zhao, back and forth until he started to make himself dizzy. If Zuko was really hiding what he knew about Katara in favor of letting Zhao chase Aang—well, it didn't help them much, since they were travelling together. But a small part of him, the cautious part, the devious, scheming part, whispered that this might be a good thing. Aang was a great kid and a good friend, and Sokka didn't like the idea of Zhao chasing him to the end of the world—but Katara was his sister. His responsibility. He gnawed on his lower lip. It wasn't really putting Aang in any more danger if he just went along with Prince Jerkface's lies, was it? Zhao was after them anyway. It might be safer if Scary Sideburns thought there was only one target to pursue.
"I don't know about that, Captain Muttonchops. Prince Scowly here might not be great with the traps, but he was doing a lot better with the door than you are."
Zhao whirled toward Sokka, eyes ablaze. He raised a hand, and a flame blazed to life in it, high and crackling. Shit. What was he planning to do with that? "Tell me what you know about the Avatar, insolent boy," Zhao snarled, the flames leaping higher with every word.
Aang told her that meditation was their best chance of reaching the Spirit World to speak to Roku. It was something the monks had told him about meditation being a higher state of being—a mental state closer to that of the spirits or something. Katara decided that she'd take his word for it. Aang was the one who'd been in the Spirit World, after all. And Katara knew nothing about meditation.
Clear your mind, she told herself. That was the only real instruction Aang had given her. But how was she supposed to do that? She could hear the firebenders trying to open the door—they didn't seem to be having any luck with the lock, but she and Aang had shoved a few heavy ornamental vases in front of the door as an extra precaution. Still, that didn't stop her from glancing instinctively toward the door every time the mechanisms rattled. She hoped that Sokka was okay. She didn't hear his voice—with doors this thick, that probably didn't mean much. The few voices she could hear were close but far too indistinct to make out any words. They were all too deep to be Sokka—or Zuko, for that matter. That was weird. Wouldn't Zuko be right there, fussing with the door and shouting?
She glanced toward the door, then wrenched her eyes down again. Concentrate. Close your eyes and meditate. Sokka will be fine. There wasn't much she could do right now anyway.
Eventually—she wasn't sure how or how long—Katara managed to lull herself into a state of quiet, of blankness. She focused on the sound of her breath and her heartbeat, she felt the gentle pull of the elements around her. And then she felt the sun touch the horizon.
Sunset. She couldn't keep her eyes closed any longer. Avatar Roku was supposed to arrive at sunset. But when she opened her eyes, everything was exactly the same. The streaks of red and gold light from the windows had faded somewhat, but the row of heavy vases still blocked the door, and there was no spirit waiting to greet her.
She turned toward Aang, and her heart sank. His eyes were shut, his tattoos glowing—he, apparently, had done something right. Was he in the Spirit World? What exactly had he done so differently?
Maybe he's just better at this. Aang's already a master of one element. Maybe the monks taught him how to reach the Spirit World too. Her hands clenched into fists and her eyes pricked. It wasn't fair. It wasn't her fault that she hadn't had anyone to teach her these things when she was a little kid—she'd learned everything that Gran-Gran tried to teach her and learned it quickly, but none of those lessons helped her here or now.
"This isn't fair!" she shouted up at the cold, unmoving statue of Roku. "I'm as much the Avatar as Aang is! It's not my fault that I don't know how to do this. You're supposed to help us. Both of us, so why won't you talk to me?"
The statue didn't reply. Of course it didn't. That didn't keep Katara from feeling a twinge of disappointment. Then a rush of anger.
"Fine! If you're going to play favorites, then—"
She didn't manage to finish the sentence. A flash of bluish-green light glinted off of the statue's gilded surface, and Katara yelped, throwing her arms over her head as she ducked. The light softened to a glow, and there was a hissing, snarling sound. Heart racing, she turned slowly toward the light and the noise.
An enormous eel-like head loomed over her, its neck protruding from the floor as though the polished marble was water. A cool blast of humid air struck her when the beast let out a hiss, and Katara edged backward. This wasn't good. This really wasn't good. Her leg bumped into Aang's backside and she froze. There was nowhere else to retreat, nowhere to run—and even if she could run, Aang was defenseless like this. She wouldn't leave him to the mercy of this huge, snake-y—thing.
A bright, boisterous laugh rang through the room and sent a shiver up Katara's spine.
"Don't look so scared, darlin'. Whiskers won't bite."
"Avatar Aang."
The voice, deep and kindly though it was, startled Aang straight out of his meditation. Monkey feathers. It had been going so well, too. Better than a lot of his meditation sessions with Monk Gyatso, actually—he felt a pang at the memory, and tried to shove it back down where it belonged. That was a century ago. The world was different now. Not all bad, not really, just—different. Really different.
"If you don't mind, I was trying to meditate," Aang said, straightening his back again. "I'm trying to reach Avatar Roku, so I really don't have time to—"
There was a sound of a voice clearing, and Aang opened one eye just enough to peer up at the source of the voice.
"Avatar Roku! I'm sorry, I didn't realize you were here." He scrambled to his feet.
This wasn't the temple sanctuary—this was a sparsely forested, hazy mountaintop. The Spirit World. And a much nicer part of the Spirit World than he'd seen before. No smelly, swampy water, no weird frog spirits, none of the unpleasantness from the Spirit World near Senlin. It was peaceful here. He could see why Roku chose this place.
Bowing as the monks had taught him, Aang said, "I am honored to be in your presence, Avatar Roku. I am ready to receive your wisdom." He straightened to the sight of a frightful frown on Roku's face.
"Avatar Aang," Roku said, a little more severely than before. "I have waited a century of solstices to make your acquaintance."
Right. That. Aang scratched the back of his neck and pulled a sheepish smile. "Sorry about that. I came as quick as I could. You know—after I got thawed out and everything."
The old man shook his head slightly. That was a very impressive beard he had. Aang wondered if he'd ever be able to grow one like that. It wasn't really the Air Nomad style, but it still looked neat. "The past is behind you. Right or wrong, it is beyond your power to change what has already been." Roku spread his hands before him, palms turned upward. "You must look to the future, Avatar Aang. It is your destiny to end the war that has torn the world apart for the century while you slumbered."
Aang nodded. "I understand, Avatar Roku." He cocked his head to the side. "But I don't have to do it alone, right? Katara's going to be there to help me, and—" He stopped. "Wait a second. Where is Katara?"
Katara searched around. There had to be water somewhere around here. No matter what that crazy spirit voice said, she wasn't taking her chances with a giant eel—snake—thing. If she couldn't make it into the Spirit World with Aang, she had to at least defend him.
"Now, you an' I both know that's not gonna work." It was a woman's voice, and the accent was unlike anything Katara had ever heard before. A slow, lilting drawl—it would almost be pleasant, if not for the fact that it seemed to come from nowhere. A head—the same translucent blue-green as the eel-like creature, but distinctly human in shape—popped into view over the creature's head, grinning toothily down at Katara. "Calm yourself, little Avatar."
Katara gaped up at the faintly-glowing woman, but didn't relax her stance. "Who are you? How do you know who I am?"
"Ah." The woman patted the eel-thing between the eyes, and it sank down until the woman could slide off into the water—no, onto the floor. It was a floor. A regular stone floor. The eel-thing just made it a little harder to remember that since it was swimming in the floor. "It's still early days for ya, isn't it?"
Katara felt her eyebrows quirk upward. "It's winter." She shook herself. Now was not the time to worry about spirits' riddles. "Tell me who you are. Tell me, or I'll—" she fumbled for a plausible threat.
Mercifully, the woman held up a hand. She was old, possibly older than Gran-Gran, but her hair, tied into a fringe of beaded braids, was still dark, and she stood straight as could be. "No need for that, little Avatar. Reckon you'd feel a bit foolish attackin' your past self."
"You—you were the Avatar?" Katara tried to think back to the sanctuary at the Southern Air Temple. There were hundreds of statues. She hadn't memorized all the faces. For all she knew, this woman could have been one of them.
A warm smile and another boisterous laugh. "Long, long time ago, child. Seems the world forgot old Avatar Haasi." Seemingly unperturbed by the fact that the world had forgotten her, Haasi patted her eel-creature on the nose and sat crossed-legged on the floor. "Sit down, little miss. We've got a lot to talk about."
Katara eyed the spirit creature, still staring toothily down at her and Aang. She refused to trust a monster that huge and intimidating, no matter how friendly its master seemed. Folding her arms, she set her stance. "No. I came to speak to Avatar Roku. I'm not leaving until I see him." She brightened. "If you were the Avatar, you must know what I'm doing wrong. How do I get into the Spirit World?"
Haasi shook her head, beads clacking with the motion. "You did nothin' wrong, my dear. But you can't reach the Spirit World. Not ever."
Over Zhao's shoulder, Sokka saw Zuko's eyes widen. Shit. That couldn't be good. Apparently nicknames didn't go over quite as well with the older generation of firebenders. "Uh—" His voice came out almost an octave too high. "The—the Avatar snores really loud?"
Zhao gave a growl and brought the flame close enough that Sokka could feel the heat on his face.
"Look, I don't know what you want me to say," Sokka squeaked. "I'm travelling with the Avatar. He has a sky bison and a pet lemur. He's twelve and he acts like it."
The flame didn't come any closer, but Zhao didn't lower it either. "How can I capture the Avatar?"
Sokka shook his head. "How am I supposed to know that? Trapping people is your thing. I'm just the guy who reads the maps and does the hunting." He wriggled, hoping that by some strange fluke, the chains would let him go. This wasn't fun anymore. Mocking Zuko was entertaining. This was—not.
"The Avatar is in a room with only one door, Zhao," Zuko said through clenched teeth. "If you need advice from a Water Tribe oaf to take advantage of that, maybe my father should have thought twice about your promotion."
The rage in Zhao's eyes flared and he whirled toward the prince instead. The flame flickered out as his hands clenched into fists.
Sokka let out a shaky breath. That was too close. Half of his face was sweatier than the other, and he wouldn't be entirely surprised if a few of his eyebrow hairs were gone. He pulled against the chains again. These people were insane. He had to get himself loose somehow, get into the sanctuary, and get Katara and Aang out. Or maybe get himself loose, get Appa, and then get Katara and Aang out. Either way, they had to get off this stupid island and back to the Earth Kingdom, back to somewhere safe as soon as possible. Avatar Roku could take his stupid spirity nonsense and shove it.
Zuko glanced at Sokka for the briefest moment, then turned his focus back toward Zhao. "The Avatar is already trapped. I don't know why you're bothering with the interrogation."
This was weird. Even weirder than Zuko lying about Katara. If Sokka didn't know better, he would almost think that Zuko was trying to prevent any unnecessary harm while throwing Zhao off of Katara's trail.
Luckily, Sokka did know better. Anything good coming from Zuko's scheming was a coincidence at best. Still, getting Zhao to go away sounded like a good idea.
"I can tell you more about the Avatar," Sokka volunteered.
Zuko glowered at him as Zhao swung back again.
Ha. Sokka could play this game too. "Do you want to know his favorite foods? Or his favorite game? It's airball, by the way. What about his favorite statue at the Southern Air Temple? Or his Fire Nation friends from a hundred years ago? His favorite animal?"
Zhao was starting to look annoyed. Good. Sokka kept at it.
"Favorite shirt? He has them ranked. Same for his pants."
Zhao fumbled for something in his pocket.
"Oh! What about his favorite—"
Zhao produced a handkerchief and stuffed it into Sokka's mouth midsentence. Without a word, he marched back to the sanctuary door.
Zuko smirked, and a fresh stream of red ran out of his nostril. "About time."
Sokka gagged a little and spat out the handkerchief. Yuck. Firebender sweat. He scowled. "Got rid of Sideburns, didn't I?"
Zuko shook his head. "You're an idiot."
"Ever seen a bridge 'could cross itself?" Haasi leaned hard to one side, an elbow on one knee and the other braced up to form an arch over her thigh.
Katara shook her head.
"See, the Avatar was never a bridge in the usual sense. Was a bad metaphor from the start. We were all of us bridge and traveler wrapped up in one." Haasi's languid expression sharpened. "Until you."
Katara shifted. It wasn't her fault. She hadn't meant to disrupt the connection between the worlds.
Haasi straightened and pressed her fists together. "What used to be bridge and traveler together in one body split in two when you woke your friend. The bridge stayed where it was—" One fist slammed down to Haasi's knee. "—and the traveler went its own way." The other hand opened and fluttered upward.
"So—I'm the bridge between the worlds?" Katara sat with a thump, no longer worried about the giant eel-thing. At least not worried enough to remain on guard. "I'm the spirit bridge, but I can't go into the Spirit World?"
The beads clacked gently as Haasi shook her head. "Not now. Not 'less the traveler comes back to join you for good."
A shiver ran up Katara's spine, and her eyes drifted back toward Aang. He sat motionless, tattoos glowing ominously. All because Katara had given a part of herself away to revive him. The thought made her stomach squirm. It was a part of herself that she'd never missed, a part she'd never even known she had before it was gone. But a part of her was still missing, and she'd never had a chance to make the choice herself.
"'Course the bridge bein' separate makes the travel easier. Goin' both ways."
Katara snapped out of her thoughts with a frown. "What do you mean?"
"Me and Whiskers can't always cross so easy."
Katara had to bite her lip to keep from commenting that—in Whiskers' case, at least—that was probably for the best. People would die of fright if the beast were allowed to wander the world, swimming through floors as though they were water.
Haasi nodded at Aang's unmoving, faintly glowing form. "And he can't cross without your help."
Katara stared at Aang for another second. "So what am I supposed to do?"
"Seriously, what's the deal?" the Water Tribe buffoon hissed as Zhao and his men wound up to blast fire at the door mechanisms again. "Aren't you people supposed to be on the same side?"
Zuko thumped his head back against the column. Knocking himself unconscious would almost be preferable to listening to this moron any longer. "Don't you ever stop talking?"
The idiot didn't so much as slow down. "Is the Fire Nation all divided or something? Is that guy going rogue?"
Zuko's head snapped back.
"That's it, isn't it?" the idiot crowed quietly. "Mister Fuzzyface is violating orders to grab them himself!"
Zuko's stomach turned sour. That shouldbe the case. Zhao's pursuit of the Avatar should be a direct violation, an affront to Father's orders. The Avatar was Zuko's quarry. Allowing anyone else the honor of her capture should be counted as high treason. But in reality—he clenched his jaw and looked away. "I don't have to explain anything to you."
"Think again, asshole. It's my little sister you're chasing." The idiot's voice had gone venomous, and his chains rattled as he strained forward. "Why did you tell the scary jerk you were after Aang?"
Zuko narrowed his eyes at the blue-clad oaf. Was he trying to say that there wasn't any reason to pursue the boy? Or was he just trying to throw Zuko off track and convince him that there was only one target when the airbender was just as deadly as the girl?
At that, he felt a fresh trickle of warm liquid from his nose. Damn. His face still ached a bit from the girl's unexpected punch. Zuko sniffed, hoping that the moron would take it for haughtiness rather than an attempt to stem the nosebleed. "I have to be the one to capture the Avatar."
The idiot looked surprisingly thoughtful as he narrowed his eyes right back at Zuko. "But why? You're both Fire Nation. Who cares who captures who if you're all on the same side?" The scrawny oaf raised his voice, though not high enough to draw Zhao's attention. "And why are you tied up too?"
Zuko's single eyebrow crept downward. He didn't owe this peasant an explanation. He shouldn't be dignifying his questions with responses. He shouldn't even be listening. But for some stupid reason, he couldn't keep himself from bristling at every word. "Zhao has a strange sense of humor," he responded through clenched teeth.
For a second, the peasant only stared. Then, "Penguin shit."
Zuko started. "What?"
"I said, that's a load of penguin shit." With a scoff, the Water Tribe moron threw his head back against his column. "You couldn't fool a blind kid, Prince Scowly."
Zuko spluttered. He wasn't a liar. He wasn't lying now, just—avoiding the truth. He hated lying. It was dishonorable.
"Uh oh." That stupid, crooked grin came across the idiot's face again. "Looks like you've got a little something right—" The idiot tried to wiggle his arm free but failed. "Looks like your nosebleed isn't giving up quite yet," he amended.
Zuko's face heated and with a sniff he craned his neck to the side, trying to wipe his nose against his shoulder. Where had that girl learned to punch, anyway? He'd be surprised if nothing were broken. If he was unlucky—and he always was—he'd end up with a black eye as well. His right eye did feel a little puffy and sore.
"Oh man, that's really not helping." Perfect, the idiot was gloating again. With a contented sigh, the buffoon looked up at the darkened ceiling. "Thank you, spirits. You all stink, but seeing Katara punch this idiot was pretty great."
Zuko opened his mouth to retort, but before the words came, the great latch mechanism on the door ground, and he whipped his head toward it, toward Zhao.
No, no, no, no. The Avatar was his responsibility, his mission, his reward for years of fruitless searching. Zhao couldn't get his hands on her. Or the airbending boy, for that matter—Avatar or not, Father would want the monk in custody. And if Zuko brought one back without the other, Father would consider the mission only half-complete. Zuko could not let that happen.
"At last," Zhao droned, the smirk evident in his tone. "The Avatar is—"
A blast of heat and light and air rolled through the doors, powerful enough that Zuko had to close his eyes and turn away.
It was loud. Too loud.
"Hmmm." Haasi looked up at the statue of Roku, then nodded as though in acknowledgement. "I'm out of time, girlie."
"What?" There were so many more questions Katara wanted to ask, so many things she still didn't understand. "But you just got here, and—"
"Time don't play favorites, little water bug. Sun's goin' down. It's time for me to go too." Haasi stood and rested a ghostly hand on her shoulder. "This won' be the last we meet. Until next time—"
"Wait," Katara interrupted. "You can't just leave."
"Got to." Haasi's ghostly hand patted Katara's shoulder, then she rounded to mount Whiskers again. "Got no more time for questions."
"But what am I supposed to do? The Fire Nation is waiting just outside that door to attack me and Aang." Katara stood as well, planting her feet wide, hands clenched into fists at her sides. "You called us here. You can't just leave us to get out of here alone."
Haasi narrowed her eyes at Katara, suspicious and disapproving all at once. Katara didn't waver. And after a tense moment of staring—Whiskers snuffed at them both and bared his teeth in something that might have been a smile or a threat—Haasi threw back her head and laughed.
"You're alright, Water Bug. I like your spirit." The ghostly woman slung herself up behind Whiskers' head effortlessly and grinned down at her. "Well?" Haasi extended a hand down to her. "You comin'?"
"Uh—" Katara wrinkled her nose. Whiskers hadn't eaten her yet, but she still didn't trust the beast. "Coming where?"
"Outta here." Haasi nodded toward the door, her beads swinging as if caught in a violent breeze as Whiskers reared his head up. "Reckon I can spare a second or two to get my new life past the Fire Nation."
Katara hesitated, hand halfway raised. She paused, glancing back over her shoulder. Aang still hadn't moved. He was still glowing faintly, his expression a bit more pinched than it was before, eyebrows drawn downward in the middle. "What about Aang? I can't just leave him. He's my friend. We're a team."
"Don't worry about him, Water Bug. Roku'll get your friend out, and he'll do it as big an' noisy as he knows how."
Letting out a breath, Katara reached up the last few inches to take Haasi's hand. It felt strange, like a breeze had wound itself tight enough into the shape of a person to take on physical form.
Haasi looked back over her shoulder with a grin. "Ready?"
Katara shifted uneasily on Whiskers' neck. She wasn't ready, not by a long shot, but before she could respond, Haasi turned forward and leaned down, almost flat against the back of Whiskers' sleek, barely-present head.
With a whoop, the ghostly woman jabbed the beast's sides with her knees. "Hold on, little bug."
Whiskers jolted forward, his great ghostly head skimming over the floor. Katara's knees nearly scraped against the marble tiles and she yelped, pulling them higher. This was a bad idea. Such a bad idea. But the beast sped toward the barricaded doors, neither slowing nor stopping when the doors made no sign of opening.
Behind her, a rush of air and light burst out, and Katara leaned forward, grabbing onto Haasi's barely-tangible shoulders to keep from flying off as the ornamental vases toppled and the doors burst open before them.
"Tha's it!" Haasi whooped. "Knew you'd wait 'til the last second, Roku, you dramatic bastard."
Katara couldn't help herself. The wind and light grew more and more intense—whatever it was, it felt like she was going to be flung off into the darkness before them as they barreled toward the doors. She couldn't hold it in any longer. Squeezing her eyes shut, clinging even tighter to Haasi's shoulders, Katara let out a scream.
Zuko tried to cover his ears, forgetting for a moment that his arms were chained at his sides. But the chains didn't stop him—his hands clapped over his ears, and Zuko toppled sideways with the force of the blast. The roar of wind and flame dulled enough that he heard a grunt from the Water Tribe oaf and a great deal of thumping and shouting from closer to the door.
He tried to open his eyes. It was bright. So bright. But he pushed himself back to his hands and knees, too bewildered by the blast to wonder what had become of his chains, and squinted, blinking over and over until he could finally make out the shapes in the doorway.
Whatever he had been expecting, it wasn't this. The glowing figure of an old firebender hovering at the top of the doorway was strange enough. But the somewhat-less-vivid-but-still-glowing shape below it—that was stranger. It was as though a giant serpent or eel—or whatever those Kyoshi Island peasants called the beast in their harbor—was swimming toward him. And on its back sat a half-translucent old woman, and clinging to her back was the Avatar.
Spots danced in Zuko's vision as the glowing eel-creature bore down on him—he wasn't sure whether it was lingering effects from the blast, but his mind still couldn't quite comprehend that the chains were gone, that there was nothing left behind but an odd pattern of scorch marks on his armor where the links had once been. That he could move out of the way if only he could convince his limbs to cooperate.
The beast came to a stop, and the Avatar swung down from her place on the monster's neck. Zuko blinked and shook his head. He thought he could feel his nose dripping again and he swiped at it with the back of his hand.
"Sokka!" The Avatar darted past him, slowing only long enough to shoot him a hateful look before grabbing the oaf by the hand. "Sokka, come on, we have to get out of here now."
The idiot blinked up at the glowing shapes—Roku, and the eel monster, and the wild-eyed woman steering the beast back toward Zhao and his men. "I—but—what?" The idiot popped up to his feet. "Where's Aang?"
The Avatar waved a hand back at the glowing figures and the growing tumult as Zhao's men and the sages found their feet again. "He's fine. Come on, Sokka. Aang will catch up with us."
To his credit, the buffoon didn't wait to be told another time. He swung his head around, sparing Zuko a glance for a fraction of a second before hauling the Avatar into the shadows. "This way," the buffoon said, voice carrying a little better in the echoey chamber than he probably hoped. "Appa's at the southern end of the island."
Zuko dimly heard the Avatar's response—something about are you sure this way is south, Sokka? But his pulse roared too loud in his ears to make out the exact words. He pushed himself to his feet. They couldn't get away. He couldn't fail again. Not this time. With a roar, he sent a plume of flame after the siblings, then broke into a run after them. He had the advantage, if only his head would stop spinning. His legs were longer, his bending more powerful, his fighting skills more refined than the two siblings put together. He just had to catch up with them. That would be easy enough.
But the eel creature surged forward, blocking his path as the Water Tribe peasants sprinted down the rapidly darkening corridor. He skidded to a stop.
"No!" He shouted up at the beast. "Let me pass!"
The toothy mouth opened wide as the beast snarled at him, and Zuko heard a voice that sounded rather like Uncle in the back of his mind. What good do you think this will do, Prince Zuko? Spirits do not care for yelling. He clenched his jaw and ducked to the side. If he was quick enough—but no, the spirit creature glided into his path again.
Desperate, he shot a ball of flame into the beast's mouth, but the fire made no impact and the eel-thing merely loomed closer. Zuko swore under his breath.
To his left, the glow from Avatar Roku intensified again, and there was a blast. Zuko crouched, throwing an arm over his head. When he opened his eyes again, the evening sky, all streaks of pink and violet on a field of deep blue, was overhead, the roof of the temple gone. Avatar Roku—and now that he squinted, Zuko could make out a small, dark form in the center of the spirit—the airbender maybe—rose over the wreckage and hovered down in the path of the Water Tribe siblings.
Zuko straightened. The spirits were gone. All of them. He broke into a sprint as the Avatar and the buffoon struggled to drag the little airbender back to his feet. But Zhao was closer. Zhao was closer and faster, closing in on them one quick step at a time, and no matter how fast Zuko ran, he couldn't make up the distance. He couldn't get to the Avatar. Zhao was almost there, and the Avatar and her companions were barely moving—Zuko couldn't do it. He couldn't reach them in time.
There is always another way, Prince Zuko. Always another chance. So long as you look in the right direction, you will always find another path to victory.
Every part of him rebelled against it, but Uncle's voice rang louder and louder in his ears with every step. He needed to capture the Avatar. He needed to stop Zhao. And maybe—maybe one of those things was more important than the other right now.
"Zhao!"
The commander stopped, sneering over his shoulder. He was already close enough that he didn't have to worry that Zuko might overtake him. "Run away while you still have the chance, Prince Zuko. I'm in the mood to be merciful."
Zuko nearly laughed. Do you even know what mercy is? "No. I demand that you acknowledge my right to pursue the Avatar." He let his gaze slip to the side just long enough to see the Avatar and her brother prop the airbender up on his own two feet.
Zhao folded his arms. "And why do you think I would do that? I'm not in the habit of granting favors to traitors."
Rage bubbled up from the pit of his stomach, but Zuko forced himself to stay in place. You can't win today. Don't let Zhao win either. "Agni Kai. I challenge you, Commander Zhao. An Agni Kai for my freedom and my right to capture the Avatar."
The corner of Zhao's mouth twitched upward. "I've seen you fight, Prince Zuko."
Zuko's stomach lurched and he took a steadying breath. Zhao wasn't Father. Zhao wouldn't wear that self-satisfied smirk for long. "Afraid to accept my challenge? Are you a coward, Commander?" Behind Zhao, the Avatar and her companions had broken into a run—the Water Tribe siblings each holding one of the airbender's hands to keep the child from falling behind. Good. Zuko would have another chance. Zhao wouldn't. He'd make sure of that.
The commander's face contorted with rage, and Zuko felt a tiny weight lift from his shoulders as the Avatar disappeared from sight. Zhao followed his gaze and flushed a livid shade of red. "You! You're in league with them!"
"My challenge, Commander!" Zuko demanded, closing the gap by a few steps. "Do you accept my Agni Kai?"
Zhao snarled and closed in on Zuko. "By the time I'm done, you'll wish you were never born, Prince Zuko."
Author's Note:
I've gotta be honest, there's so much in this chapter that I could ramble about that I'm not sure where to even start. This thing was stupidly fun to write and it involved a lot of me being semi-sleep deprived and pumped full of caffeine, thinking, you know what would be crazy??? and then doing the thing (then coming back slightly less sleep deprived to make it coherent).
But as much as I want to yell about Sokka's overpowering need to shout insults at anyone and everyone, Zuko's complete inability to even process the sheer number of insults, and that little bit at the end where Zuko had to choose between letting Zhao capture the Avatars (*cough* Katara *cough*) and putting his own ass on the line... I've gotta yell about Haasi instead.
I mean, listen. There are three Water Tribes in the ATLA world, and I refuse to believe that there was never an Avatar born in the Foggy Swamp. That's not exactly an unpopular opinion right now. Making her slightly more worldly than her fellow swampbenders might be controversial, but eh. She was trained in the other elements, which means that she was exposed to the rest of the world, and I'm standing by that. And who better to act as a spirit mentor for Katara than a somewhat unconventional Water Tribe Avatar?
But naming her. Have I mentioned that I hate naming things? Because I really do. For most ATLA purposes, I have lists of which real-world cultures had the most influence on each nation, and I pull real names from their languages, and call it good. But the Foggy Swamp? Other than a few memes saying that they were based on Floridians, I had nothing to go on. So I finally decided to lean into the memes, and I looked up a bunch of indigenous groups native to the Florida area, found a website dedicated to preserving Native American languages, narrowed my search down to one tribe (Seminole), narrowed that down to one of their languages with fairly simple spelling/not too many special characters (Miccosukee), picked a bunch of words that would have been appropriate to use as names (sun, moon, water, colors, some animals), and FINALLY landed on the Miccosukee word for sun: Haasi (my second runner-up was water: Ooki, but I didn't like the sound as much). Did I put too much effort into finding that name? Possibly. It took hours of searching. But I really like the name, and now I have a whole bank of other names that I can use for other swampbender characters, and I fully intend to use at least a couple.
And Haasi rides the Unagi's great-great grandpa because in a world where both dragons and sea monsters exist, and firebenders ride dragons, I don't see why a waterbender wouldn't be able to ride a sea monster.
Anyway, ramble over. My Jet rewrite is pretty much done, so two more weeks of updates are on the way! In the meantime, I'd love to hear what you all think of the chapter, and feel free to check out my Tumblr (@soopersara) if you're interested!
