Water

Realization

Zuko couldn't remember the last time the sound of approaching footsteps had caused his heart to speed up in something other than nervous anticipation. This was weird, but not entirely unpleasant. He wanted to see Katara. It had taken a while, but he could admit that to himself now. He liked being around Katara. Possibly even more than he liked being alone, which was weird for him. Most people were exhausting, but Katara—well, she could be exhausting too, but it was different with her. Good different. Sure, she could be exhausting at times, but he also felt as though he could rest with her around. He could let his guard down, and she wouldn't take advantage of that.

Of course, he still wasn't going to dig any deeper than that. If there was another reason why he liked being around her, he wasn't about to admit it to himself, much less anyone else. Zuko wasn't that stupid. In fact, he was determined not to let on how he felt toward Katara to anyoneif he could help it. That was precisely the sort of weakness that had gotten him into trouble in the past.

And, as it turned out, it probably would have gotten him into trouble this time too. Because when he poked his head out of the tent and squinted up into the brightness of the sky at the pit's rim, Sokka's face was staring down at him.

Zuko's heart sank, and he scowled. "What do you want?"

Sokka stopped at the edge and glared down at him. "Wow, dude. What did I do to deserve that attitude?"

"I'm not hearing an answer."

"Yeah, well, if you're going to be rude, then maybe you shouldn't expect an answer. I don't have to put up with rudeness."

"Are you two arguing already?" Katara's voice was distant but seemed to be drawing nearer.

"Hey!" Sokka spun around. "It's not my fault. He started it."

"When I was at the Air Temples, we weren't allowed to say that," Aang sounded just as cheerful as ever, though his voice was a bit distant too. "The monks always told me that it's irresponsible to blame others for our own conflicts."

"Sokka's being irresponsible?" Katara asked in mock-surprise. "Wow, I never thought I'd see the day when that would happen." By the end of the sentence, she'd reached the edge of the pit, her arms overloaded with furs, and a cloth sack dangling from one wrist.

"Shush, Katara. I'm the most responsible one and you know—"

She didn't let him finish before she dumped the bundle of furs into his arms. "Part of being responsible is being helpful, and you're not helpful. And what are you two even arguing about? We've been here for less than a minute."

"I don't know! He scowled at me before I even said anything," Sokka replied.

"How terrible," Katara deadpanned. "You might be the only person in the world who Zuko has ever scowled at. Do you think you're going to live?"

Sokka sniffed. "I thought you were supposed to be on my side. Some sister you are."

"Speak for yourself, Mister Unhelpful."

"How am I unhelpful when you guys left the house without me and never asked me to carry anything?"

Aang joined them at the edge of the pit, waterskins strapped all across his chest, a dark-colored pot in one hand, and the lemur riding atop his bald head. "I asked. Right when you caught up with us, remember?"

"No," Sokka said, dragging the word out. "Youasked me if I wanted to carry a waterskin, not if I would. There's a big difference."

Zuko strongly considered ducking back into the tent and staying there. He did want to see Katara, but he wasn't convinced that dealing with the others was worth the trouble. Especially Sokka. Zuko didn't mind Aang all that much, he was just—well, a little too friendly, too naïve, too trusting. The saccharine positivity was just a bit too much for Zuko to deal with for long.

Katara glared at Sokka, then before there could be any argument, she dropped the ice out from underneath them.

Sokka managed not to fall flat on his back, and he tossed the bundle of furs back to Katara. "Ha! You didn't get me that time!"

"I wasn't trying to get you. What does that even mean?" She dropped the furs and gave them a light kick so that the whole bundle unrolled across the bottom of the pit.

Zuko raised his eyebrow. "What are you doing?"

"We're gonna have a picnic with you!" Aang announced. He hopped up into the air and fluttered slowly downward to sit crosslegged on the furs. "Katara has to go to the healing huts later, but we wanted to tell you everything that happened with the council first."

A picnic? That sounded like the sort of idea that Uncle would come up with, though Uncle probably wouldn't suggest anything like that out here, in all the ice and snow and cold.

Zuko didn't have the chance to decide how bad an idea a picnic with the others was before they all sat and began to settle in. He didn't really want to sit down and join them, but it felt weird to hover around while they were all sitting. Grudgingly, he plopped down, cross-legged in front of the tent, and hunched his shoulders.

"So what happened?" he asked, voice flat. "Anything important?"

"It's all important," Sokka answered.

"They're sending out another reconnaissance team to make sure we were telling the truth," Katara said. "It sounds like they're leaving tonight, so none of us are going to have our normal lessons for a while. All the teachers are going to be on that mission."

"What, don't they believe what you told them?"

"No, I don't think it's that," Aang said. "I'm pretty sure everyone believes us. But they want to see it for themselves before they decide what to do."

"Maybe everyone but Hahn believes us," Katara inserted under her breath as she opened up the sack that she'd been carrying and started to lay out smaller packages of food.

"Yeah, but Hahn's an idiot and no one listens to him." Sokka reached around Aang and began stuffing his hands full of food. "We learned that today. And the waterbenders are going to see if they can get close enough to the fleet to do some damage without getting caught. If they can do some sabotage and take out a bunch of ships in one go, then the whole thing should go a lot better."

"Hey!" Katara swatted Sokka's hand. "Leave a little for the rest of us."

Sokka retreated to his own cushion, keeping all his spoils clutched tight to his chest. "I'm a growing boy."

"More like a bottomless pit," Katara mumbled, but she didn't fight him any further. Instead, she passed a few seaweed rolls to Aang and opened the pot, releasing a plume of steam and a rich aroma of soup.

"Anyway," Sokka resumed, tearing a piece of jerky in half with his teeth, "everyone who's actually important is busy getting ready. You know, tightening defenses, preparing evacuation routes, restocking all the city's supplies, all of that. Stuff that we won't need if we can sink the whole fleet before they get here."

Sink the whole fleet. The words struck him hard in the middle of the chest, and Zuko's stomach turned to lead.

"Zuko," Katara said, cutting through his thoughts before they even had a chance to properly form.

"What?" he snapped.

"Um—" She waved a ladle full of soup and an empty bowl in front of his face. "It's lunch. Eat something before Sokka gets it all."

Sokka raised an eyebrow, stuffing the rest of his strip of jerky into his mouth. "Dude, what'sch your problem thisch time?"

We can sink the whole fleet. Zuko's stomach felt heavy, his mouth was dry, and his head began to spin a bit. That was the plan, wasn't it? It had been the plan all along, and he'd walked right into it with his eyes wide open.

He couldn't find the words to reply, so Zuko did the only thing he could think of and snatched the bowl from Katara's hand.

Though Katara stared at him, eyes narrowed and brows furrowed, Sokka was unbothered.

"You know, I think Chief Arnook likes me. If things keep going the way they are right now, he might put me in charge of the tribe's whole defense strategy before too long."

Aang's gaze broke away from Zuko too. "What makes you think he's going to do that?"

"He had me meet with Pakku and Siqiniq personally to help plan the new reconnaissance mission. I think that's a pretty good sign."

"I'm pretty sure that's just because nobody could read your notes about the fleet, Sokka."

Zuko could still feel Katara watching him, eyes unwavering. He did his best to ignore her. Right now, he could hardly think, much less make eye contact.

We can sink the whole fleet.

How had he never realized that that was the plan? Of course the Northern Water Tribe would do their best to sink every ship. Of course they would wipe out every firebender they possibly could. Any nonbenders in the fleet wouldn't stand a chance this far north—they'd be as good as dead as soon as they hit the water, and even Uncle—damn it. Uncle was a great firebender, or he had been in his younger years, but he was old and out of shape, and even if he could make it out of the water when Zhao's ship went down, Uncle wouldn't have the supplies he needed to survive long in the wilderness. Ifhe could escape the waterbenders in the first place.

The knot in the center of Zuko's chest tightened. If Zhao's ship went down, it would take Zuko's entire crew along with it. Jee, Taro, Masao, Daiki—all of them could die. He could lose Uncle, and it would be all his fault. Zuko was the one who'd made it possible for the Water Tribe to fight back. He was a traitor, and anything that happened to his people would come back to rest on his shoulders forever.

Zuko was an idiot. He'd been so wrapped up in his own head that he'd forgotten that this wasn't just about Zhao. What good did it do to protect the innocent people on one side of the war if it meant destroying the innocents on the other?

"So I was thinking that while they're all off doing their big reconnaissance mission, we could make the most of our time by—"

Zuko cut Sokka off. "Do whatever you want. I don't care."

All three of them turned to stare like he'd grown an extra head.

"Yeah, okay." Sokka said eventually. "But since this involves you, it might be a good idea to drop the attitude."

"I don't want to be involved in any of your stupid plans," Zuko snapped. His chest felt tight, and he thought he might be sick if he had to sit here for much longer. "Just leave me out of this."

"What the hell is your problem now?" Sokka asked. "Seriously, you were almost normal yesterday, and now—"

"What's going on, Zuko?" Katara spoke a little quieter, and there was something soft, something patient in her tone.

Somehow, that was even worse than Sokka's brashness.

"Can you just leave me alone? I don't want to talk right now." He wasn't sure that he'd ever want to talk again. Not after he'd screwed things up so badly. Not when he'd singlehandedly torn his own life into shreds.

"Whatever is wrong, I'm sure we can help," Aang began. "If you'll just tell us—"

"Leave!" Zuko bellowed. "I told you that I don't want to talk."

He couldn't talk even if he wanted to. It was becoming more difficult to keep himself under control, to think, even to breathe.

Sokka was the first to move. In a surprisingly fluid motion, he tossed his food down onto the furs in front of him and rose to his feet, scooping everything up in a single bundle. "Fine, then." With his free hand, he tugged on Aang's collar, then reached over to give Katara a pull as well. "So much for working together. If that's the way you're gonna be, then enjoy being alone in a pit."

Ordinarily, Zuko thought, he would have been bothered by that attitude. He would have been furious that Sokka had the nerve to say anything so rude and blunt, but this time, there was too much noise in Zuko's head for that to matter. He wanted them gone. All of them. If Sokka's obnoxious attitude was what it took, then Zuko couldn't argue about it.

It took too long for his liking, but Aang rose along with Sokka when it became clear that Zuko wasn't going to waver.

Katara, though, wasn't quite as quick to move. Even after the boys had risen, she stayed where she was, eyes narrowed, staring Zuko down.

His hands clenched into fists. He couldn't deal with this. Not now. Maybe not ever.

"Come on, Katara," Sokka said, nudging her with the side of his knee. "Let's go. Fire Jerk wants to be left alone."

"I'm coming," she said, eyes still narrowed as she pushed Sokka's leg aside. Slowly, she stood, not looking away from Zuko once. "I'm going to figure this out, you know. Whatever is going on with you—I'm not just going to drop it."

Of course she wouldn't. Would Katara ever let anything drop?

She did, however, join the others at the icy wall, and Zuko's scowl hardened as they launched out of the pit. They were going, but somehow, he didn't feel any better. He released a breath that turned from a hail of sparks into a plume of roaring flame midway through.

How had he not known what was going to happen when he changed sides? What good did it do to have allies in the Water Tribe when working with them could so easily cost him his family?

What was he even doing here?


"You're really sure? Tomorrow?"

Katara nodded, pushing her hands down deep into her pockets. Though it wasn't particularly late—there were relatively few patients to tend to, and Imiq had let them go early—the sky was dark and the air cold enough to sting her cheeks. "Since Master Taqqiq isn't going to be in the city for a few days, I won't have any lessons in the morning. I'll probably spend all that time waterbending anyway, so if you want to learn, you might as well join me." She'd have to take a step back from combative waterbending to work with Kriisax, but any waterbending practice was better than nothing.

With a grin, Kriisax did a small, excited twirl in the middle of the street. "Yes! I'll finally be able to prove that I'm good at something other than healing. And that I'm actually good at healing."

Katara laughed. "I think everyone already knows that you're a good healer."

"Tell that to my older sister. She's eight years older than me, and she's so smug about being done with her apprenticeship. Never mind the fact that I'm almost a year ahead of where she was at my age." Kriisax sighed. "And my younger sister is always bragging about how she's the best cook in the family. Once I know how to cook with my waterbending, neither of them will be able to say a word."

"Well—hopefully you have a little time to practice first. I can't count the number of things I ruined before I really figured out what I was doing."

Kriisax let out another sigh, this one exaggeratedly long. "I suppose I can wait. Too bad I can't start practicing tonight."

Katara gave a noncommittal hum, then immediately regretted it when Kriisax whirled to face her.

"Wait! Are you going to practice any more tonight? Even if you don't want to teach me yet, I could always watch, and then—"

Katara's face grew hot, and she was thankful for the darkness. "I—I thought you didn't care about combat waterbending."

"Well, I don't, but it's all waterbending in the end, isn't it? I suppose if I really pay attention, I could pick a few things up."

Katara frowned. There was a good chance that she would do more waterbending tonight—letting herself in and out of Zuko's pit, if nothing else—but she didn't even want the boys around for that, much less anyone else. Especially tonight, after—everything.

"You probably could," she admitted carefully. "But tonight—there are just a few things I need to take care of. Normally, I'd be practicing, but I'm not sure I'll have time for that tonight." Not unless Zuko came back around remarkably quickly, or she wound up freezing his feet to the ground to get him to talk. That had proven to be a useful tactic before.

"Anything I could help with?" Kriisax asked.

Katara's eyes widened. "Oh. Um—no, I don't think that would be a good idea. It's—the boys and I sort of had an argument with someone earlier today. Or—we didn't really argue, but he got angry with us for some reason. I'm not really sure. All I know is that I have to work things out before it gets worse."

Kriisax nodded knowingly. "I see." A brief pause. "Do I know him?"

"What?" Katara asked, brows furrowed.

"This boy you like. Have I met him?"

At that, Katara let out a disbelieving laugh. "What? I never said that—"

"Are you trying to tell me that there isn't a boy?"

"I—no? There's a boy, but it's not like you think."

"Hmm." There was a suspicious edge to her voice, and Kriisax narrowed her eyes.

Katara did her best to ignore that. She cared about Zuko, sure, and she did want to sort out whatever the problem was today, but they were just—well, actually she didn't know what they were. Especially not today.

"Tomorrow morning," Katara said, doing her best to sound authoritative. "We'll practice right up until we have to work with Imiq again. Got it?"

Kriisax rolled her eyes. "Fine. If you want to be secretive, be secretive. I can wait." She started to veer off toward another street up ahead, then spun back once more. "Good luck with your friend," she singsonged before turning to jog off toward home.

Katara pursed her lips. Her friend. It felt strange to hear someone refer to Zuko that way. With a slow exhalation, she squared her shoulders and started for the lake. Her friend. More and more, she was beginning to think that she would actually like that. When things were going well—recently, that was any day but today—Zuko was surprisingly easy to talk to. Surprisingly thoughtful and sensible.

But today—she didn't know what was going on today. She didn't believe that he was just being a jerk, no matter how much Sokka insisted that that had to be the case. Something had to be bothering Zuko. He seemed upset, not like he was being intentionally petty or cruel. The trouble was that whatever was bothering him seemed serious. Serious enough that the understanding that they'd managed to forge over the past several days could very well be in jeopardy if they couldn't sort things out soon.

Katara wasn't going to let that happen. Friends or not, they had to at least stay on good enough terms with each other to make it through the impending battle. One way or another, she had to talk to him tonight—whether she could get things back to normal or whether she had to settle for reestablishing a reluctant alliance, she was going to get them back on speaking terms.

She marched all the way to the pit and dropped down inside before she took so much as a moment to look around. The walls of the pit seemed darker, glossier than she remembered, and she pressed her hand against the ice.

Zuko must have been firebending down here. The walls had grown dangerously thin at some points and there were faint, sooty smudges left on her mittens when she pulled them away. Frowning, she froze more water to the far side of the walls until they felt sturdy again, then turned toward the tent and crossed her arms.

"Come out here, Zuko."

It almost sounded like he'd been expecting her. "Go away. I told you before, I don't want to talk."

She set her jaw. She recognized that tone from when they'd been back on his ship, and she hated it even more now than she had before. She crossed her arms. "Then I guess it's a good thing that I'm not here to talk."

There was a long pause before Zuko spoke again. Though he didn't emerge, his voice dropped a bit—from burning and bitter to dull andtired. "Then what do you want?"

It was just barely a crack, but that was all the opening she needed. "Well, obviously you've been trying to blow off steam down here. I don't know what the problem is, but I do need more sparring practice. We might as well use that bad mood of yours."


There was a strong possibility that Zuko was going to regret this. Back on his ship—back when he'd still had a ship—Uncle had always been careful not to allow sparring when Zuko was in a bad mood. It wasn't that his bending ability suffered. If anything, his flames grew stronger, but his judgement—well, in Uncle's opinion, Zuko's judgement got worse.

He couldn't bring himself to care, though. So what if he lost every match with Katara? He had a hard time believing that he could possibly feel any worse than he did already. If he fought and lost a handful of sparring matches, at least he might exhaust himself enough to get some sleep. Beyond that, he wasn't expecting anything at all.

Katara, fortunately, hadn't said anything since they'd left the lake. Zuko was not in the mood to speak, and he seriously doubted that anything she could possibly say would change that. He'd messed everything up, and he wasn't certain that there was anything that could be done to fix it. Whether he should even try to fix it. More likely than not, anything that he could possibly do would make the situation worse for everyone.

He should have seen this coming when he left Zhao's ship all those days ago. He should have known better than to think that he could make the right decision and have things turn out right.

They reached the flat just on the far side of the ridge, and Zuko trudged through the snow to take his starting position on the far side of the bowl. He turned back to face her and took his stance.

"Whenever you're ready—"

Before he managed to finish the last word, Katara moved forward, and the ice surged up around him, burying him to the shoulders and pinning him in place.

"What the hell? What are you doing?"

She crossed her arms and glared at him. "Waiting for you to get a grip."

"What?" He struggled against the ice, his temper rising along with his temperature. "Let me out of here."

"No."

Fine. Then he'd just have to melt himself out. Scowling in concentration, he forced his bending higher and higher. Gradually, the ice around his arms began to loosen, and curls of steam began to lift from the surface around his shoulders.

Katara stared at him, unimpressed. With a flick of her wrist, she froze him back in place, even tighter this time. "By all means, keep trying. This is a lot easier for me that it is for you."

"Ugh! What do you want?"

"I want you to tell me the truth."

"You said that you didn't want to talk!"

"Well, I lied," she snapped. "People have been known to do that."

"What?" He squirmed against the ice again. "Then why bother taking me all the way out here?"

"Because I don't want to get us caught if I have to yell at you."

"If you care that much, then let me go!"

"Not until you tell me what's going on." She kept her arms crossed and stared at him, unwavering.

Zuko had to look away. Her eyes were sharp, like chips of vibrant ice, but there wasn't a bit of coldness in them. They were piercing and bright, but just as warm as always. That was almost worse. She cared, but what good could that possibly do?

"I'm waiting, Zuko. It's obvious that something is bothering you. Just say it, and maybe I can help."

She couldn't. Zuko was sure of that. There wasn't anything that anyone could do about this, but he could feel the pressure building up inside of his chest, and eventually, it all came pouring out.

"Fine! You really want to know? My entire life is falling apart because I turned against my own people!"

"You decided to help us!" Katara shouted back. "You told me that you were okay with this. How is that any different today than it was yesterday?"

"I thought that—ugh! I don't know what I thought was going to happen. But now—my uncle is still on Zhao's ship. So is the rest of my crew. When the ship goes down, they're all going to die, and it's going to be my fault." He had to stop for a breath—Katara had gone still and wide-eyed, but he barreled on. "It's bad enough that I'm a traitor for turning against Zhao, but—I know a lot of the people out there. I'm supposed to be responsible for them. How am I supposed to live with myself if I get them all killed?"

For another second or two, Katara just stared, her forehead full of creases. Then she released the ice, leaving him staggering, and dropped to sit cross-legged on the ground. "That's it?"

Zuko was thrown off balance, only half because of the change in the ice. He wanted to argue, but Katara had backed away, and she looked small and uncertain. His eyes and his throat both burned, but he was too furious with—everything, the universe, the spirits, himself—to succumb to it.

"Of course that's it," he snapped eventually. "I was stupid not to realize what was going to happen before, but Uncle is the only person in my family who will even speak to me. If anything happens because of me, then—then I'll be even worse than General Bujing."

Katara looked up. "No. No matter what happens, you're better than that."

"Why. Because I feel bad about what's going to happen?"

"No." Her gaze held steady on him as he began to pace. "Because you care, and you're trying to do the right thing. It's not always easy, you know."

"It's impossible!" Zuko shouted.

At that, Katara stood back up. "No, it isn't! We can figure this out, okay? I don't want anything bad to happen to the general either."

Zuko's breath caught in his throat, and he stopped pacing. "You—you don't?"

"Of course not." Her voice softened. "Your uncle was always nice to me. And even the rest of your crew—they may not be my favorite people, but they're not nearly as bad as I thought they were." She paused. "If they're important to you, then I'll do whatever I can to help figure this out."

It became very difficult to breathe. After spending most of the day entirely unmoored, spiraling at the rim of a well of disaster and failure and grief, Zuko felt as though he'd been slammed back into the ground. His pulse was still too fast, his head still spinning, but the world felt tangible and meaningful again.

"They—they aren't my friends or anything," Zuko finally managed. "But they were stuck with me for three years. They wouldn't be in danger if it weren't for me. I have to help them."

"Okay." Her voice was still soft, still even. "So—what do you want us to do?"

He rubbed his forehead with the heel of his hand and thumped down into the snow, his legs gone limp. "Ugh. I don't know. I just—I can't lose my uncle." His eyes began to burn again, and he looked down in an effort to hide it.

He heard Katara walk around to his side and sit just a little way from him. "If we can find a way to keep him safe, will you still help us fight Zhao?"

He drew in a slightly shuddering breath. "I haven't even thought about that. But I guess—yeah, I'd still want to stop him." His eyes had begun to leak a bit, and although he was fairly certain that she wasn't looking, Zuko angled his face farther away.

"Good. As long as we stick together, we can do this." Katara went quiet for a while. "Are you okay?"

"Fine." Despite his leaky eyes, his voice was perfectly normal. He wasn't crying, he was just—dripping.

"Are you?" Her voice sounded doubtful. "You've been sort of—up and down a lot today."

He shot a quick glare at her. "Is that your 'tactful' way of saying that I've gone insane?"

"It's always nice to see you in the same delightful mood as usual."

He leaned forward, resting his chin on his knees. "Sorry. I'm just—still not used to this."

"It shows." There was no anger, no condemnation behind the statement. It was just a simple, quiet observation.

Zuko's shoulders sagged a little. He was tired. Much more so than he'd realized before. "Yeah, well—what am I supposed to do? Things tend to go badly for me when I try working with people."

"For now? Telling me what's happening is probably a good start. We'll never be able to help you if we don't know what's going on." She paused. "What do you think we should do about your uncle?"

He shrugged. "I don't really know. I wish I'd thought this through sooner. If I'd put something in the letter—a warning of some kind, maybe everything would be fine."

"As soon as we get a response from him, we can always send a warning letter back," Katara offered.

"If we get a response." He sighed, rubbing his forehead. "Didn't Sokka say that there's already a team out there trying to sabotage the fleet?"

"If they can. They won't get close if it's too dangerous. And ideally, they just want to cause enough damage to strand everyone at Kokkyo Island. If everything goes well, no one will get hurt, and no one will know that it was sabotage." Another pause. "If the ship does go down, how long do you think your uncle would make it?"

Zuko shook his head. "I don't know. A few days if he can get out of the water, probably. Otherwise—maybe a few hours."

Katara was watching him so intently that he had no choice but to glance her way. "So if we hear that Zhao's ship went down, Appa will probably still have time to find him?"

He felt his forehead crease. "Would—would you let me look for him?"

"Of course I would. I mean—I think I'd even help you hide him from the council if it came to that." She turned her head and stared ahead, off toward the city. "And the rest of your crew—I suppose I could at least help pull them out of the water. I won't bring them back here, though."

A weight seemed to lift from Zuko's shoulders, and he snorted. "Don't worry about that. I'm sure just seeing me alive will scare them so bad that they'll turn and run back south as fast as they can."

"Good. I'd like to see some of them scared for once."

He let out a slow breath and looked toward Katara again. She sat less than an arm's length away, staring placidly out in the direction of the city. His heart did a funny little hop, and he had to look away again. They weren't friends yet. He hadn't forgotten that. But somehow he'd still managed to circle clear back around to where he'd started the day—to the point where he liked being around her, where he wanted more time with her—and though he didn't understand the feeling, it was at least pleasant.

"Thanks," Zuko said in an undertone. "For—um, all of this. For not forgetting about—" He ran out of words and gave a small, vague gesture.

"Hmm. You might be the first person who's ever thanked me for being nosy and pushy." Katara smiled at him. "But you're welcome."

His face heated a little, but he stood and turned back, awkwardly offering her a hand up. "I'll try to make sure you don't have to freeze me solid again."

Still smiling, she accepted his hand and rose. "Except for in sparring, right?"

"If you actually follow the rules, then I'm not going to give you a chance to freeze me again."

"That sounds like a challenge to me." She nudged his arm. "Maybe tomorrow?"

Zuko offered just the faintest hint of a smile in response. "You're more than welcome to try."


Author's Note:

Can't decide whether this chapter is proof that I enjoy Drama in my fics or proof that I'm a wimp who can't handle leaving Drama unresolved for very long. But hey, I do firmly believe that Katara wouldn't let a conflict like this go for very long before she made it a point to resolve things. And... if she had to lie a little bit and freeze some people solid to get them to listen to her, then that's a price that she would absolutely pay.

I hope you like the chapter, and I hope I'll see you back here in two more weeks for Chapter 62! Reviews are always appreciated!