Water

Confidantes

Jasmine grunted and rammed at his gate until Zuko relented and poured another half scoop of grain into the trough.

"Consider yourself lucky, you big lump. Zhao saves all of this stuff for the smart komodorhinos. All your friends have to understand orders before they get the good grain."

At that, Jasmine snorted, his breath sending up a puff of dust from the bottom of the trough.

"I'm just saying that you shouldn't get used to it. I'll be leaving in a few more days, and after I'm gone, there won't be anyone you can sucker into breaking the rules like this."

Zuko didn't even know why he was doing it. Jasmine was just as dense and mean spirited as ever. There certainly wasn't any good reason to treat Jasmine to the better food. Zuko didn't like the big jerk. And the few times he'd happened to visit after a feeding, it was clear that Jasmine got just as much food as all the others. Just worse food. Larger helpings of hay and subpar grain rather than hay and good grain. It wasn't like Jasmine was in any danger of starving without Zuko's help. If anything, he was being overfed thanks to Zuko.

But then again, Zuko didn't have any reasons to not break the rules. This wasn't his ship. What could it possibly hurt to let Jasmine gorge himself? It was Zhao's stupid rule anyway. And while it probably wouldn't make a difference either way, it did feel a little good to know that he was causing problems while he was here. It was only fair. Zhao had tried to end Zuko's life. Making Zhao's life more difficult was the least he could do in return.

And he was going to make absolutely certain to cause even more problems for Zhao at the North Pole. Somehow. Zuko had yet to figure out the details—he wasn't even sure how he was going to get into the city or find Katara—but he was going to make certain that all the worst parts of Zhao's plan failed. Zuko really couldn't see much point in solidifying his own plans yet. He didn't know exactly what he'd be dealing with when he arrived in the city. It was better to keep his options open.

Maybe that was why Uncle kept pestering him with questions. How will you reach the North Pole, Prince Zuko? Do you have a plan for getting past the walls? And what about the guards? How will you avoid them? And most importantly, how will you find Avatar Katara?

How was Zuko supposed to know any of that? Until Uncle started asking questions, Zuko hadn't even realized that there were walls around the city. It wasn't like any of his childhood lessons had told him anything useful about the Northern Water Tribe. No one in the Fire Nation knew much of anything about the North Pole anymore.

Except for Uncle, apparently. It was strange enough that Zuko almost wanted to ask how Uncle had learned so much about the reclusive nation at the far end of the world, but he'd endured too many long, boring stories to bother. Uncle was an old man. Very old. Maybe it was as simple as that. Maybe Uncle could still remember when the Northern Water Tribe interacted with the outside world.

Besides, he didn't need to give Uncle any more excuses to worry. There was already enough fussing and coddling when Zuko ventured back to the cabin. And like it or not, he couldn't just go off on his own. Stealing a lifeboat was one thing. Zuko could sneak almost anywhere on the ship, and the lower loading decks were almost always deserted. That wasn't a problem. Gathering the supplies he would need, on the other hand, was a bit more difficult for a person who was meant to be dead. Carrying a month's worth of rations would attract a lot of suspicion unless Uncle did it.

With a sigh, Zuko crossed his arms on top of the gate and rested his chin on the back of his hands.

"How long do you think it's going to take before we land? Uncle keeps telling me that it'll be a few more days, then we'll stop at Kokkyo Island to wait for the rest of the fleet. But how many is a few? And how long is it going to take me to get from there to the North Pole?" He paused. "I wonder how they're going to react when I get there."

Jasmine, of course, was disinterested. He just kept chewing, his great, cork-tipped horns hovering just a few inches away from Zuko's hand.

Zuko pulled back from the gate just a bit. "I bet Katara is going to complain about my hair. I'm positive she will. I haven't shaved my head in weeks, and even Uncle is starting to give me weird looks."

In an odd way, that thought was almost comforting. There was so little normalcy left in his life that even a pointless yelling match sounded like a nice change of pace. It had been ages since he'd last had a chance to vent the burning frustration out of his chest. There was nothing like a good shout—or a dozen of them—to get his thoughts back in order. And he couldn't do that here. Annoying as it was to keep things bottled up, Zuko knew better than to put his own life in danger.

"I wish I was allowed to make as much noise as you do," Zuko muttered. "Sneaking around for one night is fine, but hiding for weeks is miserable."

As if on cue, Jasmine's pointy little ears perked up, and his beady black eyes turned toward the corridor that led back to the rest of the ship. Over the rhinos' noise, Zuko could make out the faint sound of voices and approaching footsteps.

Oh no. No one was supposed to be down here at this time of the day. It was right in the middle of the day shift—everyone was meant to be working now. If anyone found him down here, there would be questions and accusations about slacking off of his shift. If he wasn't careful, Zuko would be found out.

He couldn't risk that. The trouble was that the only other exit was a ramp leading off the ship. That didn't do him any good at sea.

He couldn't escape. There was no possible way.

Which meant that he had to hide.

Almost without thinking, he sprinted to the end of the row of rhino pens, found the crate where the crewmen stashed the empty grain sacks, raised the lid, and dropped down inside it.


Katara went straight to healing lessons the next morning. She couldn't say that she wanted to. Healing didn't spark any more enthusiasm in her than it did before, but she had a point to prove. Actually, two of them. Firstly, that she wasn't the type to sit idle just because things weren't going as planned. She was a hard worker, and everyone was going to know it. And secondly, that she respected some parts of the Northern Tribe. Like Yugoda. Katara didn't want to be in healing lessons, and she didn't care a bit for the rules about who could fight, but she had decided that she would absolutely, positively never be caught undervaluing Yugoda's work.

She just had to do her best to focus during healing lessons. Which was difficult, but she could doit. Probably.

She thought she was doing better than she had yesterday, at least. It was still a bit uncomfortable to sit in a class surrounded by girls half her age, but Yugoda was a good patient teacher. And there were interesting bits mixed into the lesson too. It wasn't bad. It just wasn't what she was looking for.

But that was okay for the moment. This was only her second day of lessons. It would inevitably take more time to find her way into Pakku's waterbending lessons.

Which was exactly why she headed away from the house immediately after the lesson was over. If she was going to change Pakku's mind, she needed to know more about him—more about the whole tribe—and she couldn't get that by going home.

The guard outside the palace looked down his slightly crooked nose at Katara. "You're here to see Princess Yue?"

She nodded.

"For what reason?"

"I'd like to talk to her, that's all."

"What about? Princess Yue is a busy young lady, and she doesn't—"

Katara exhaled. Why was this guard guy making things so difficult? She'd even double checked that she looked presentable enough to visit the palace. "I want to learn more about the North Pole. I've only been here a few days, and there's a lot I still don't know. Visiting with Princess Yue seemed like a good place to start." Yue would be able to tell her all about their customs, their traditions. About their rules, and whether the waterbending situation had truly always been hopeless, or if Pakku had made things worse.

It wouldn't surprise Katara if he had. She couldn't decide which option was worse. On the one hand, if Pakku was the worst of the old holdouts, then he would be difficult to convince, but it might be possible to convince other people to help pressure him. On the other, if Pakku was just a standard kind of stubborn, then Katara would only have to deal with him. He seemed to have the final say in these things, and it would be incredibly satisfying to get the better of that old prune.

The guard narrowed his steely eyes down at Katara. "That isn't a good enough reason to interrupt her today of all—"

Before he had a chance to go farther, Yue emerged through the open archway. Her expression brightened. "Katara? What a lovely surprise to see you here!"

With a grin, Katara shot a triumphant glance at the guard. Ha. She could have told him that Yue would be okay with the visit. They'd forged at least the start of a friendship already.

She gave Yue a quick bow. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything. I just got out of my lessons, and I was hoping to visit you before I went back to the house."

"Of course! Please come inside."

"Don't forget that you have a ceremony to attend this evening, Princess Yue," the guard interjected.

"Thank you. I haven't forgotten." Yue beckoned Katara through the archway. "I still have plenty of time."

Katara waited until they were partway down the corridor before she turned to Yue again. "I really don't want to interrupt anything. If you're busy with some ceremony, then—"

"Oh, no." Yue shook her head. "The ceremony doesn't begin for another few hours, and I've gone over all my preparations dozens of times already. Believe me, I'm grateful to get my mind off of it for a little while."

Katara wanted to ask what sort of ceremony it was, but she could tell by Yue's tone and expression that she really did want a break from the topic. Maybe later. For now, she said, "Well, then I'm happy to find out that I have a talent I wasn't aware of before. Being a well-timed distraction."

Yue laughed. "An invaluable skill. I should really be sure to look for at least a dozen people with the same talent when I take over more official duties around the city." She paused as she led Katara past what looked like several small meeting rooms, a broad, open balcony, and through a smaller archway into a cozier wing of the palace. "It really is wonderful to see you. My free time is often quite dull."

"Do you get to spend very much time with your friends?"

"Not much anymore." Yue glanced at Katara and smiled. "Though to be fair, it's mostly because I was always encouraged to spend time with girls older than myself. Most of them are either busy with work of their own or with caring for their families now." A pause. "It's nice to speak with someone closer to my own age. In fact, I may be getting a bit spoiled in that regard. Your brother stopped by to visit me yesterday as well."

"He did? What did he want?" Katara stopped short when she saw Yue's slight blush. "Actually, never mind. I don't think I want to know."

They reached a doorway hung with fine, white sealskin, and Yue pushed it aside to let Katara through. "It was nothing, really. We had a short conversation, that's all. Sokka is very sweet."

Katara couldn't keep herself from making a face. "I—I'm glad that you think so."

"You don't?"

A shrug. "He's my brother. I love him, but sometimes it's hard to see past the dumb jokes and annoying habits."

"I see." Yue sat on one of the fur cushions by the great, icy window, and motioned for Katara to do the same. "Well, he is very sweet, and I couldn't be happier to have you both as friends." She paused again. "Is anything wrong? I didn't overhear much when you arrived, but it did seem that you were here for something in particular."

Slowly, Katara sat on the opposite cushion and rubbed her mittened hands together. "Sort of, yes. Yesterday morning—I tried to go to waterbending lessons, and Master Pakku threw me out. Did—I mean, you knew that I wouldn't be allowed to learn to fight, didn't you?"

"Yes." Yue frowned. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize that you wanted to fight. But this has always been the rule. Only boys are trained for combat."

Katara shook her head, and gave a short, humorless laugh. "I should have figured that out on my own, shouldn't I? I mean, all the benders who brought us into the city were men. So were all the warriors we saw, and all the students who performed at your party, and all the kids in Pakku's class—I should have realized that it wasn't a coincidence."

"Not necessarily. If you're used to something different, I suppose you wouldn't have had any reason to think that it was anything but a coincidence." Yue gazed out the window for a moment. "Do women fight at the South Pole?"

"Well—" Katara frowned. "Not exactly. I'm the only waterbender in the Southern Tribe, and I have been for a long time, so what I do doesn't mean much. And the nonbenders all stayed back from the war, but it isn't like they can't fight. Everyone needs to know how to hunt and fish to keep the tribe alive. It isn't much, but we could all defend ourselves a bit if we had to."

"And you want to be able to do more," Yue said thoughtfully.

Katara nodded. "And I need to. Even if this wasn't something I'd been looking forward to for as long as I can remember, I'd still need to learn to fight." This wasn't the sort of disappointment that she could just shake off and move on from. There were consequences to consider outside of her own feelings.

"Why is that?"

For just an instant, Katara considered telling the whole truth. That she was the Avatar—one of the Avatars—and that she had to learn to fight so that she and Aang could use their own share of the powers to end the war. They likely couldn't do it alone. Yue would at least be polite enough to listen, even if she didn't believe it.

But on the other hand, it was still a ridiculous-sounding story to tell. Katara wasn't sure she was ready to explain it, even to Yue.

"Well—I'm the last waterbender from the South Pole. If I don't learn how to waterbend, then I'll never be able to teach any new benders. Our power could be lost forever. And I've already had to face plenty of firebenders since I left home. Spending a couple of months here isn't going to change their minds about chasing us."

"I suppose not. But would they really target you?"

Katara gave a crooked smile. "Considering the fact that one of them kidnapped me and held me prisoner for a few weeks, it definitely seems possible."

Yue's hand flew to her mouth. "You were kidnapped?"

A nod.

"I'm so sorry, Katara. I had no idea. You must have been so terribly frightened."

"I guess I was at first." She felt her voice going quieter. "I refused to eat or drink anything for the first few days because I thought they were going to poison me. But then—this old general brought a meal down to me and ate and drank before I did to prove that nothing was poisoned. I guess the boy who captured me asked him to do it—that's what the general kept telling me, but I didn't really believe it at the time. Now—now, I think I'd believe almost anything." Her hands clenched. "Zuko—the boy who captured me isn't much older than I am. And he's definitely a jerk, but he never tried to hurt me when I was on his ship. There was another firebender, though. An admiral. He tried to kill us both—me and Zuko." She found herself crumpling the loose stretch of fur that made up the palms of her mittens. "That's the part that scares me. The admiral is still out there somewhere. And how much worse can the rest of the Fire Nation be if one of their admirals was willing to kill a kid from his own nation? Zuko almost died to get me out of there safely, and I just—I don't know."

Yue looked stunned. "That's—that sounds horrible."

Katara gave another wry smile. "It definitely wasn't great. And that's one of the reasons why I have to be able to defend myself. Aang, Sokka, and my dad's best friend all tried to keep me safe, but it wasn't enough. If I can fight, then maybe I can keep it from happening again. Maybe I can protect my friends too."

With a thoughtful frown, Yue stared out the window again. "Have you mentioned any of this to Master Pakku? About how you were captured, or—"

"No, I haven't. Do you think that would make a difference?"

A shrug. "It's hard to know for certain. Master Pakku can be very stubborn, but I doubt that he would allow you to remain in danger if he knew what you've been through."

Katara rested her chin in her hand. "Maybe. I just don't know if he's going to listen to anything I have to say. He barely let me get a word in before he kicked me out of his class."

Granted, Katara hadn't been exactly articulate in her responses, but how could she be? She'd been both stunned and furious at the time. She still was, but at least now the edges had worn down enough that she could try to reason her way through this. At least for now. Things might become difficult when she inevitably had to look Pakku in his dumb, sexist face again.

"It may still be worth a try," Yue offered.

Katara nodded. "I can try that. I'm just not sure how well I'm going to be able to explain things when I face Pakku again. Last time I saw him, I was—not exactly as clear as I could have been. If it's even possible, I want to have a lot of different options ready to try and change his mind." And it was very likely that one of those options would be throwing a lot of water at Pakku. After all, it would be a good way to prove that she could waterbend.

"Of course." Yue paused for a few moments. "But I'm sorry to say that I've never known Master Pakku to change his mind about—anything, really. Certainly not about allowing a girl to train in combat. And he has been the primary waterbending instructor for much longer than I have been alive."

Katara frowned. That was going to make things difficult, wasn't it?

"I'm sorry," Yue said again.

She shook her head. "It isn't your fault. This is just going to be—a little more difficult than I was expecting. I'm not going to give up. I just need to spend some more time thinking about it, I guess."

Yue was about to speak again when the sealskin pulled back and a woman poked her head in. "Princess Yue, the ceremony is approaching quickly. You should get prepared now."

"I suppose I should. Thank you for reminding me."

Oh, right. Katara stood up. "Sorry, I didn't mean to keep you. I should probably get going anyway."

"Wait!" Yue rose and caught her hand. "Please let me know if there's anything I can do to help. I'd like to know how this turns out for you."

"Thanks," Katara answered, smiling. "I will." She paused just before she reached the door and looked back over her shoulder. "And if you want me to, I can tell Sokka that you said hi."

Yue blushed. "If you would—I'd very much appreciate that."


This probably wasn't his finest idea.

The crate was dark and cramped and stuffy, and the grain sacks smelled weird and made his hands itch. But he fit. And there wasn't anywhere else to hide down here. At least he wasn't too likely to be discovered.

Of course, if anyone opened the crate, it would be all over for him. There was no good reason for anyone—Zhao's crewman or not—to be hiding in here. Even if they didn't recognize him immediately, there wouldn't be any way to escape, and it would just be a matter of minutes before they discovered who Zuko was.

He just had to hope that keeping quiet would be enough. No one should have any reason to open up the crate, right? And as long as Zuko waited until he was alone again before sneaking out, he should be fine.

Probably. The only trouble was that it would require some measure of patience. And while Zuko had a definite talent for stealth, he'd never had much patience.

"Ugh, it stinks down here."

A quiet smack carried down the corridor. "What did you expect?"

"I know what komodo rhinos smell like. It just wasn't this strong when I slacked off of work last time."

Zuko frowned. Though everything was muffled thanks to both the crate and the helmet, he could have sworn that he knew those voices. He slid his faceplate down, hoping that the open air around his face might make it a little easier to hear from inside the stuffy crate.

As if in response, a corner of one of the grain sacks poked into his mouth and Zuko nearly gagged.

"Mmm. It balances out in the end. It's easier to sneak away, but a hell of a lot less pleasant to stay away." A pause. "Three years, and I never thought I could've been demoted further. I guess Zhao really is a whole different kind of man."

The derision in the last sentence gave the voice an unmistakably familiar edge. Lieutenant Jee? He used to sneak off to the komodo rhino stables to get away from work? Wait, no. That wasn't the important part. Jee had been demoted? Sure, he had obnoxiously strong opinions, and he was loud and surly most of the time, but that seemed unwarranted. Jee had worked for his rank, and he was good at his job. Even if he'd apparently slacked off of work sometimes.

It wasn't too surprising, though. Zhao had never earned a single one of his promotions, and he had nothing resembling decency. How could he ever value someone else's work?

"I'd take a decent commander over a decent ship any day."

Was that Taro? His voice was a little less distinct than Jee's, but it did sound like him.

Ugh. Zuko couldn't decide whether it was better or worse to know that he was hiding from his own former crew.

"You've never known a good commander in your life," Jee said snidely.

Worse. It was definitely worse. At least strangers didn't usually have personal grudges against Zuko.

"No, but toward the end—"

"Mm-hmm," Jee agreed, as though that actually meant something. Then, "Damn. You know how many times I've tried to speak with General Iroh since then?"

"I think we've all tried at least once."

"Half a dozen times at least. And every time, that bastard Zhao sends someone to haul me away at the last second. It isn't right. A man shouldn't have to mourn alone." There was a lengthy pause, filled with footsteps and rustling. "What the fuck are you doing, Taro?"

The rustling continued, then there were a few soft, plinking noises that turned into a rush of something being poured out onto steel. "Zhao feeds Jasmine trash." There was a great thump and an explosive curse.

"Doesn't seem like a good enough reason to lose your hand."

Taro cursed again. "It's just—Prince Zuko always made sure they were fed equally."

"So?"

No answer.

Jee spoke again. "Why? Of all the things you could've come up with—"

"I've got a brother around the age Prince Zuko would've been. Just—sometimes I think about what the kid would've wanted. If it had been my brother, then he would've wanted me to—"

"This is your way of honoring him? Almost losing your hand to a pissed-off rhino?"

"Yeah. I know it doesn't make any sense."

"Mmm." Jee paused. "For what it's worth, I don't think Prince Zuko would've minded that it doesn't make sense."

Zuko was too confused to know for sure whether he minded or not. It was weird enough to hear people talking like he was dead, and weirder still to hear something that sounded almost like emotion in their voices. He'd sort of expected that there would be celebrations when the news of his demise broke—or apathy, at least. Uncle was the only one who'd really cared about Zuko before the explosion, and it would have made sense if things had stayed the same afterward. But instead—did they actually care about him?

No, that wouldn't make sense. Maybe it was just guilt talking. Now that Zuko was presumed dead, they weren't obligated to do anything for him anymore, but maybe they felt bad that they hadn't done anything to protect him. Or maybe it was easier to pretend to like someone who was no longer around.

"It's a shame," Jee said. "He really was shaping up to be better than I would've guessed, considering his father."

Taro grunted his assent. "I thought he'd be unbearable once he'd captured that girl, but—shit. He was just a kid. He never really had a chance."

Quiet fell, and it lingered long enough that Zuko began to wonder whether they'd left, or if they hadn't, whether it might be worthwhile to emerge and try to sneak past them anyway. The crate was growing less comfortable by the minute—it smelled odd, and it was warmer, stuffier than it had been before, which made the smell worse, and the grain sacks were itchier than they had been at first. Of all the people who could possibly find him out, Jee and Taro were probably the least dangerous. Even if they were just pretending to care about Zuko, they definitely didn't like Zhao. They wouldn't turn him in, would they?

Zuko shook his head. That was stupid. He'd be putting everyone at risk if he dared to reveal himself. Besides, even though it wasn't intentional, they'd probably be furious to find out that Zuko had been eavesdropping on their conversation all along.

He'd just have to wait a little while longer. He could do that. Probably.

After a while, there was a dull cuffing sound. "Go write your brother. That might make you feel better. I'll head up to the officers' quarters again tonight to see if I can speak with the general."

Taro's voice sounded a bit more muffled than before. "Let me know when you do. I ought to say something to him too."

"I'll spread the word. I can't think of a single one of us who wouldn't be happy to disobey orders this time."

The voices grew more distant and indistinct, and two sets of slow footsteps receded away from him. Zuko waited until it was all quiet again—save for the usual noise from the komodo rhinos—before he raised the lid of the crate just enough to peer out through a crack.

All clear. With a long sigh, he raised the lid the rest of the way and clambered out. After all those minutes half crouched, half lying inside a crate, something felt a bit strange when he stood up straight again, but he reasoned that it was only natural after being tucked away in a box.

If he thought this was bad, he could only imagine how it would have felt if he'd been awake when Uncle first smuggled him aboard. That box was much smaller, and he had a feeling that it would have been a much longer, more uncomfortable experience to be carried around like that.

He stopped by Jasmine's stall on his way out to the main corridors. "I hope you're proud of yourself. You're a great big cheat, tricking me and Taro both into feeding you."

Jasmine snorted and tossed his head a little.

"See, now you're just being cocky."

A prickling sensation crawled up the back of his neck, and Zuko frowned. He was forgetting something important, he just couldn't figure out what.

"Hey! Watch it, that komodo rhino is—"

Zuko turned involuntarily toward the voice and found himself standing face to face with Taro.

Shit. He knew what he'd forgotten now. He'd taken off his faceplate when he was curled up inside the crate. He'd never remembered to put it back on. Which was why it had felt so bizarrely open when he crawled back out. Which meant that his faceplate was still lying at the bottom of the crate somewhere, mixed in with all the empty grain sacks.

Which meant that Taro had a full, unobstructed view of his face, and there was no way for Zuko to hide it.

"It's—you're—" Taro spluttered, the color rapidly draining from his face.

Shit. He'd been caught. Taro was going to tell everyone about Zuko—he'd wind up alerting Zhao one way or another—and Zuko would be caught, and Uncle would get into trouble, and then—

Taro's eyes rolled backward until only the whites were visible, and his knees buckled beneath him. He hit the floor with a hollow thunk, and then lay motionless.

Zuko stared at the heap that was Taro. He should do something about that.

Or, on second thought, it would probably be wiser to get out while he still could.


Author's Note:

Friends, I did it again. And by that, I mean that I told myself that I had LOTS of time to edit a chapter, then proceeded to fill up my to-do list with... let's see, recording a few podfic chapters, editing four podfic chapters, doing initial editing marks for two other chapters of I&S, doing a piece of fanart in a style and with a program that I'd never used before in my life from start to finish, drafting yet another chapter of I&S... and then going all surprised-Pikachu at myself when I ended up scrambling to finish editing in time to post.

I mean, I'm here, so it kinda worked out. But damn. I should figure out how this time thing works someday. (My calendar for the next few weeks does look significantly emptier, so there may be hope for me yet.)

Anyway, I feel like I ended up writing a lot of character-heavy flavor chapters in this part of the story (... probably because I DID write a lot of them), and honestly? I kinda like it. It's fun to explore things like Zuko accidentally overhearing that his old crew kinda, sorta, maybe misses him a little bit (not that he'd ever accept that they care unless he's whacked over the head by it, but hearing it is a start), and Katara making friends with most people she meets. I mean, if nothing else, these flavor chapters give me more time to explore the Water Tribes, which the show really didn't do that much of, considering the fact that TWO of the main characters were Water Tribe themselves.

Oh! And there may be more relevant places to bring this up in later chapters, but I'm thinking about it now, so... Katara is a little more open to healing than she was in canon, and while I know I talked once about how the way healing was introduced to her could have made a difference in her opinion, that doesn't necessarily cover ALL of the difference in her feelings here. A lot of her better opinion of healing is coming from her opinion of Yugoda, and also a bit from my own experiences. I obviously have never been trained in magical healing or anything, but I HAVE had teachers that I like for subjects that I'm just kind of 'meh' toward, and I've had teachers that I STRONGLY dislike for subjects that I love. And in my experience, the good teacher is usually more likely to give the 'meh' subject a boost than a good subject is to absolve a teacher for being a lousy person. I don't see Katara getting any less passionate about fighting, but the more I think about it, the less I believe that she'd end up being close with Pakku the way she seemed to be in canon. It seemed more likely to me that Katara would keep her passion for fighting, but find a mentor she likes and can relate to on a personal level... and possibly develop a teensy bit more respect and fondness for what that mentor does. So we have our favorite warrior Katara making friends with and being mentored by women who don't necessarily share her interests, not compromising on her goals, and developing more appreciation for healing all at the same time, and I refuse to apologize for that.

See y'all again in two weeks, and reviews are always appreciated!