Water
The New Normal
Over the past few days, Zuko had nearly managed to forget how hopelessly bad he was at dealing with people. Now that they were on the same side, Katara was astoundingly easy to talk to, and even Sokka and Aang—Zuko didn't really like talking to them, but they were at least consistent. He could always rely on Sokka to be a sarcastic pain in the ass, and on Aang to be blisteringly cheerful. It wasn't always pleasant, but it was still better than dealing with people he didn't know as well.
Even now, even the day after he'd lost control of his temper and drove them all away, even when Sokka would be more frustrating than usual—and, admittedly, somewhat justified in that—Zuko was fairly sure that he preferred familiarity over uncertainty.
Unfortunately, Princess Yue was still unfamiliar. And Princess Yue was standing at the edge of the pit at this very moment, looking down at him.
"Good morning, Prince Zuko."
Zuko blinked up at her and then glanced off to the far side of the pit. Last night, Katara had cut steps into the side of the ice, leaving a clear, easy path in and out of the pit, and it didn't escape his notice that Yue was making no attempt to close the distance between them, even though there was such an easy path down to the base.
Not that Zuko could really blame her. He could just as easily come out of the pit to hold a slightly more normal conversation, but he just didn't want to. As uncomfortable as it was to stand with his head pitched backward, staring up at where Princess Yue stood at the edge of the pit, Zuko couldn't see how speaking face-to-face with someone he barely knew could possibly be any better.
"Uh—good morning," he replied haltingly.
Yue didn't look any more certain than he felt. In fact, she looked off across the surface of the lake, rubbing one hand along the opposite arm. "I spoke to Katara earlier this morning. I'm very happy to see that you are feeling better."
Zuko raised his eyebrow. "What did she tell you? I wasn't sick or anything."
"Oh—of course. I know that. But I understand that grief and fear are powerful forces as well. I'm not sure that Katara told me everything, but she did explain the danger that your uncle may be in."
He pressed his mouth into a thin line. Great. He hadn't really expected Katara to keep last night a secret—he couldn't really expect that—but it was uncomfortable knowing that anyone else could hear about things like that.
"I wanted to let you know that I've spoken with my father," Yue resumed. "I haven't told him anything about you, of course, but I have made arrangements to have all new information about the warriors' activities delivered to me directly after my father so that I can pass the news on to the Avatar. If I have any reason to believe that your uncle is in danger, I'll make certain that Katara knows about it as soon as possible."
Zuko nodded. That was a relief. "Thanks," he said stiffly.
"Of course." Yue paused again, looking slightly embarrassed. "And I also brought this." She produced a bundle of blue clothing from somewhere on the ground behind her. "Katara mentioned that you can keep yourself warm on your own, but all the same—some proper warm clothing may be helpful."
Zuko stared. It would make sense to replace the rest of his Fire Nation gear. Logically, he knew that. It would be warmer, give him a significantly better chance at passing without notice if he had to enter the city again, and he could probably use a few more things—like mittens, specifically. But from Yue of all people—
"Where did you get that stuff? I mean—it just doesn't seem like you're the type to steal things."
"What? I haven't stolen anything." Yue looked positively shocked. "I just—I have access to the tribe's armory. You aren't Water Tribe, but you're certainly helping the tribe enough to deserve proper supplies while you're here."
Zuko raised his eyebrow. Right. So she had clearly stolen the clothes, but she had also managed to convince herself that it wasn't really stealing if the clothes didn't belong to someone specific in the first place, or if there was a good reason for stealing.
"What makes you think that I would have stolen these things?"
He opted for something close to tact and shrugged. "It makes more sense than anything else. I know that Sokka stole this parka from someone."
"Hahn," Yue said.
"You know him?"
"You might say so." She seemed to consider tossing the bundle down to him, then changed her mind and perched delicately on the edge and lowered the bundle as far as she could before letting it drop. "Hahn is my fiancé."
Zuko's mouth opened and closed a few times. "Oh." He pulled the bundle closer to the tent.
"You seem surprised."
"Well—I'm not exactly perceptive, but Sokka really isn't subtle. Especially where you're concerned."
"Oh." Yue looked down and frowned for a moment before she spoke again. "Hahn and I—it's an arranged marriage. We were matched shortly after I met Sokka for the first time, and—" Another pause, then, "Prince Zuko, do they have arranged marriages in the Fire Nation as well?"
He shrugged. "Yeah. I think most places do."
"So were you promised to anyone? Is there someone waiting for you to return home?"
Zuko scoffed. "No. Even if they were before, everyone thinks I'm dead now." The look of alarm on Yue's face caught him off guard, and he paused. "I was only thirteen when I left home. Back then—no one was really thinking about my future yet. And I guess it would have been a waste of time anyway after I got banished."
"May I ask why you were—"
Zuko shook his head before she got any further than that. "I don't want to talk about it."
Especially with her. Especially now, when he was firmly back on Father's wrong side. Especially when he could feel himself so clearly being pulled in two different directions—between what he thought was right, and what he'd been told was right when he was younger.
He was here now, and he'd made up his mind about which side he would stand on when the battle began. That didn't mean that he was ready to talk about it. Except, possibly, with Katara.
Yue, thankfully, allowed the subject to pass.
"If you had been promised to someone—how do you think that you would handle it? Especially if it was someone you wouldn't have chosen for yourself?"
Zuko rubbed his forehead with the heel of his hand. "I don't know. It's not like I've ever had to think about things like that. Most of the time, I'm more worried about who's going to try to kill me next than anything else."
"I suppose so." Yue sighed, looking out across the lake. "I have always known that I was likely to end up in this situation. Betrothed to someone who I didn't choose. But—I suppose I always thought that it would be someone who I respected and admired. Not—this." She paused, looking back down at Zuko. "I'm sorry. All of this must seem so trivial to you."
Well, it did strike Zuko as odd that she was talking to him about this. Any of the others—Katara especially—would be a better confidante than Zuko could ever be. But, he supposed, none of the others were likely to ever face an arranged marriage. Not that it was likely for Zuko either, but if things had gone differently and he hadn't been banished, then maybe Father would have struck some sort of bargain with a particularly important noble family by now. At least at some point in his life, it had been possible.
Or maybe it hadn't. He could hardly imagine anyone choosing to marry their child off to him. Or imagine Father taking the time to arrange a match for him. It seemed a lot more likely that Azula would be deemed worthy of that sort of arrangement.
Ugh. The thought of Azula getting married was frightening.
"I doubt that anyone would have wanted to arrange a marriage with me," Zuko offered. "My father is the Fire Lord, but I'm—I was pretty well known as a disappointment to the royal family even before I was banished. I know that hasn't changed now, and it's probably never going to. If things were different, though—" He had to take a moment to gather his thoughts. "If things were different, I might be grateful that my future was settled. That someone picked me for—some reason. But I doubt that I'd be happy. Most marriages I've seen in the Fire Nation aren't."
Yue nodded slowly. "The Water Tribe is different in that way. Most people find their happiness in the end, even if they don't choose their partner."
"You don't think that you will?"
"I may. Someday, I might find that I've grown used to the way that things are and feel some contentment in that. For now, though—it's difficult to imagine that I'll ever feel differently toward Hahn."
"Because of how you feel about Sokka?"
Yue pursed her lips. "Perhaps a little. I'm not ashamed to have feelings. I know well enough not to act on them. Maybe you would feel a bit better about things if you would give yourself the same allowances."
"What are you talking about?" Zuko asked sharply.
"Feelings, Prince Zuko. You can admit when you have them."
His face heated. "You don't know what you're talking about."
"Don't I? It seems clear to me that you care a great deal about a certain mutual friend of ours."
Zuko sputtered. "I—that's—you don't—ugh! She's not my friend, okay? I've never had a friend in my life. She's just—someone who's a little easier to talk to than everyone else."
Yue raised an eyebrow at him. "What gives you the idea that you aren't her friend? It seems obvious to me that you both matter a great deal to one another."
"Well—you're just wrong, then. We're just allies. Katara told me that." He crossed his arms, hoping that it wasn't entirely obvious how badly he wished that it were otherwise. That they could move forward somehow and cross whatever boundary was keeping them apart.
He'd never had a friend before, and before Katara he hadn't wanted one either. But now—it was difficult to see how friendship could be as bad as he'd imagined it in the past.
There was a moment or two of quiet before Yue spoke again. "Has it occurred to you that the two things aren't mutually exclusive?"
"What?"
"You say that you've never had a friend before. Don't you think it's possible that you might have trouble recognizing friendship because of that?" She paused, then gave a small smile. "I certainly haven't known you very long, but I've seen you and Katara together. Whatever the two of you have looks a lot like friendship to me."
Zuko's heart skipped, and his face wouldn't stop burning. What? Was it possible that Yue actually knew what she was talking about? Were he and Katara really—
No. He wasn't going to get his hopes up, no matter how badly he wanted to believe Katara trusted him, cared about him. He knew better than to rely on outsiders' opinions on things like this.
"Katara gets to decide that, not you," he blurted when he found his voice again. "Maybe you're right about me. Maybe I don't know what friendship looks like, but—I don't think you're the one who has a say."
"Of course," Yue answered quickly. "I don't mean to speak for anyone else. It's just an observation." She smoothed the long lower section of her parka, then tucked her hands back into her lap. "It's nice that you care so much about how she feels, though."
He sort of wished that he could deny it. That he could stop Yue from making any further insinuations by claiming that Katara didn't really matter to him, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. He did care. Too much, most of the time. About too many people as well.
That was what had gotten him banished, after all. His inability to stop caring had always made things more difficult for him back in the Fire Nation.
It still felt strange being here at the North Pole. The people here didn't seem to realize how deep a flaw it was to leave himself so vulnerable by caring about other people.
"Is that why you brought the clothes out here? Because you think that I'm Katara's friend?"
"It may be part of the reason," Yue admitted. "She is a good friend of mine. It just seems right to take care of friends of my friends. But I really do appreciate all the help you've given my people too. I know you must have sacrificed a great deal to come here, and I don't intend to forget that."
Zuko shifted, looking down at the bundle of clothes, the soft, whitish tufts of fur poking out along the seams in the deep blue skins. "I didn't really have to sacrifice that much. I mean—I was a stowaway on a ship with the man who tried to kill me before I came here. Living in an ice pit really isn't so bad by comparison." When he glanced back up, it was obvious, even to him, that the dryness in his tone wasn't landing quite right with Yue. "Thanks," he tried instead. "For the clothes. It's—it's a lot colder out here than I thought it would be."
"You're very welcome." Yue rose slowly, carefully from the edge of the pit so that she wouldn't slip. "And thank you for listening to me."
"You really don't have to be that careful, Kriisax," Katara said, watching as the water spun agonizingly slowly around the pot. "You need to push and pull the water. You can't just—breathe on it and hope that's going to be enough."
Still, Kriisax remained where she was, bowed halfway over the pot of water, moving just enough to send spiraling ripples across its surface. Like she was stirring a pot of soup, but barely. The tension, the careful precision in her motions was exhausting just to watch.
"This isn't a life or death situation," Katara added. "You don't have to do it perfectly on the first try. It's a bit of water in an old pot, not a patient in the healing hut. If you make a mistake, no one is going to get hurt."
Kriisax frowned. "But cooking is exactly what I want to use my bending for. I'd rather do things right from the start than worry about correcting myself later."
That was a nice thought and a fair point. Or it would be if there was anything right about the way that Kriisax was waterbending. Her wrists and shoulders weren't quite as stiff as they could be—not as bad as Katara had noticed in some of the boys in beginners' lessons—but her stance was relatively inflexible, like she was trying to remain in a proper position over her water the way that they did in the healing huts. Bending that way could probably work for short periods of time, with small amounts of water, but it would be utterly exhausting for anything more than that.
"I'm not sure that's going to work if you want to be able to waterbend for more than a few minutes," Katara said. "If you want to build up your stamina, you might have to be sloppy for a while."
"I've never seen you bend sloppily."
"That's because I was a sloppy bender for years before I got here. I had stamina way before I had any focus or control." She came forward to stand beside Kriisax and held her own hands over the pot. "Here. Just watch for a second, then try to copy me."
With a smooth, arcing motion, Katara raised most of the water out of the pot, narrowed it into a ropelike shape in midair, then sent it right back down to the bottom of the pot.
"I can't do that!" Kriisax said, sounding aghast.
"Why not?"
"Because I don't have that kind of control. If I try that, I'm going to spill water all over the floor."
"That's sort of the whole point." When even that didn't seem to make any impact, Katara sighed, repeated the motion over again, but this time, allowed the water to fall out of her control in midair so that it splattered all across the floor. "I think we might be doing this all wrong."
Shaking off the few droplets that had landed on her, Kriisax said, "Clearly. There's water everywhere."
"No, I mean that we're starting too small." With another smooth movement, Katara gathered up all the excess water and dumped it back into the pot again. "Making a mess is part of learning. If working with a little bit of water in a pot isn't enough to get you to stretch out and make a few mistakes, then we need to try some real bending forms."
"But I don't want to be a fighter. I don't care about all the boys' forms."
"I know that, but we're never going to get you bending longer if this is all we work on. And it isn't just fighting. If I teach you my regular bending forms, you don't have to use them to fight anyone if you don't want to. But I can almost promise you that it'll help your bending more than anything else."
A huff, and Kriisax looked across to her. "Is that how you did it? Just practicing combat forms?"
"Well—not entirely."
"So why can't I try the other things you did first?"
Katara crossed her arms. "Because the other thing I did to get better at waterbending was getting captured and held prisoner on a Fire Nation ship where the only thing I could do to keep myself busy was practicing my bending with the condensation from the walls. Somehow, I don't think you'd enjoy that very much."
Kriisax grimaced. "No, I suppose I wouldn't."
"Okay. So maybe tomorrow, we should—"
There was a knock, and the door opened just a bit. "Katara? Are you—" Yue poked her head in. "Oh! I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt anything."
"No! That's fine." Katara motioned for Yue to come in. "We were just having a little waterbending practice."
"Inside of the house?" Yue sounded skeptical, but she stepped inside all the same, then stopped short. "Kriisax?"
Kriisax turned toward the door. "Oh, hi, Yue! I haven't seen you in ages!"
Though they both looked excited to see one another—they were relatively close in age, so it wouldn't surprise Katara much if they'd been close friends when they were younger—Yue also shot an alarmed look at Katara. It didn't take much thought at all to realize that Yue had probably come here with something to tell Katara, some news about Zuko or the impending battle, and as close as either of them may have been with Kriisax, Zuko was not a good subject to discuss in front of anyone.
"If you're here to tell me that I can't be practicing this kind of waterbending, I might not even fight you on it," Kriisax said. "I had no idea how hard this was going to be."
Katara made a face at her, and Yue laughed.
"No, nothing like that. I'm just here to give Katara bit of news about the warriors, and—" Yue cut herself off, turned very slightly red, then mouthed the word, "Red."
Kriisax looked like she was about to speak—about who or what Red was, probably—but Katara spoke up before she had a chance.
"Is there anything new? Have the warriors reached the fleet yet?"
Yue shook her head. "I don't believe so, but I did speak to Father this morning. He agreed to make sure that I receive all of the warriors' updates so that I can pass them on to you and Aang. We'll know everything that's happening almost as soon as my father knows." She gave a slight pause, and when it became clear that Kriisax was preparing to ask another question, she added, "Would the two of you mind if I came to watch your practice next time you meet? I haven't seen much of this sort of bending before, and I'm very curious."
Kriisax shrugged. "I suppose I wouldn't mind. As long as you promise not to tease me if I look ridiculous."
From the other side, Katara shot a grateful look at Yue. She could hardly have asked for a better diversion to draw the conversation away from Zuko.
"You're going out there again?" Sokka demanded.
Katara looked back over her shoulder, eyes narrowed like he was the one who'd lost his mind. "Is that surprising somehow? Sokka, I've been going out to the lake every single night. This isn't new."
"I get that." He wasn't happy about it, but it was sort of hard to deny the fact that Katara had been seeing a lot of Zuko.
Too much, really. Sokka was aware that Zuko had—in theory, at least—turned over a new leaf and sworn off of helping the Fire Nation harm innocent people. But the guy was still a firebender. Even if he seemed nicer now, and Sokka wasn't completely convinced that he was, a leopard seal couldn't change its spots. And neither could Zuko.
If Zuko had spots. Or—whatever. The point was that Zuko, while not as bad as a lot of the other degenerates from his nation, had still done a lot of rotten things in the past. And as far as Sokka was concerned, yesterday's big blow-up had proven that things weren't as different as Katara wanted to believe they were.
"So? Do you have a reason for bringing it up, or are you just enjoying the sound of your own voice?"
Sokka scowled. "I'm saying that I don't think that you should be spending so much time with him. Especially now."
She straightened abruptly, crossing her arms and turning to glare at him. "Especially now? What in the world is that supposed to mean? Now that he's told us everything he knows? Now that he's turned against his own people and we're the only ones who can keep him safe?"
"Now that he's gone out of his way to prove that he's still a temperamental jerk," Sokka snapped. "Don't put words in my mouth. I'm not trying to get the guy in trouble. I know that he's gonna be in danger if anyone else finds him. I'm just saying that after his big tantrum yesterday, it might not be the best idea for you to hang around there this much. Who knows what'll happen the next time he snaps?"
"Sokka, I told you what happened. He didn't snap, and I talked things through with him. Things are fine now, I promise."
"Fine? Like how you were 'fine' before the Northern Air Temple, or—"Aang came in through the front door, and Sokka practically pounced. "Hey, back me up here, Aang."
"On what?"
"On Zuko being a jerk."
"Oh. Um—" Aang halted in the middle of the room, glancing from Sokka to Katara and back again. "I'm not really sure what—"
"He wasn't being a jerk," Katara interrupted. "He was upset because he'd just realized how much danger his uncle was in. But I talked to him, and we have a plan now, and everything is fine again. If you don't believe me, you can ask Yue."
Rude. That was very, very rude of her, using Yue against him like that. Especially now, in the evening when Sokka didn't have any good excuse to go talk to Yue and find out whether Katara was telling the truth.
"You know, that does make a lot of sense," Aang said. "We've seen Zuko angry before, and what happened yesterday seemed different."
"Aang!" Sokka's voice squeaked, and he made an effort to lower it. "That's not the point here!"
"Then—what is the point?"
"The point is that he snapped at all of us. He got so worked up that he blew up at everyone, and for all we know, he could do it again."
Aang made a concerned face. "Sokka, I don't think that he's—"
"Would you stop assuming the worst for five minutes?" Katara demanded. "He hasn't done anything but help since he got here. How is he ever supposed to prove himself if you won't give him a chance?"
"He's been a jerk enough times for me to doubt him," Sokka replied. "Who's to say that he's not going to take it too far someday, and—"
"Who's to say that any of us won't? He's made mistakes before, but at least he tries to make things right when he does." Katara stooped to finish pulling on her boots, then shouldered past him as she stomped her way to the door. "I'm going. Don't wait up for me."
"Katara!" Sokka tried to go after her, but Aang caught him by the back of the tunic before he could reach the door. He stumbled and nearly tripped. "Hey! What the hell, Aang?"
"Sorry." Aang released his tunic, but then stepped in front of the door, blocking his path. "But I think that Katara has a point."
"What?"
"We should give Zuko a chance. He's been helping us a lot, and I don't think it's fair to stop trusting him just because he was scared about what was going to happen to his uncle yesterday."
Scared? More like scary. Sokka had been there. He'd seen how abrupt and dramatic the shift in Zuko's mood had been. And sure, he hadn't acted on it—not while they were all out there, at least, but this was Zuko. He wasn't exactly known for his restraint or good judgement. Next time, things might not go so well.
Next time, Zuko might do something to hurt Katara. Intentional or not, he could do a lot of damage, and Sokka wasn't going to let that happen.
"If he was really just worried about his uncle, then why couldn't he just say that?" Sokka asked. "Wouldn't that have been a lot easier than getting all snappy with us?" He turned back from the door to search for his boots and parka. By now, Katara would be too far away to chase after her in his socks.
"Maybe he didn't think that you would listen," Aang said. "You two haven't been very good at talking to each other so far."
Sokka glanced upward as he hopped on one leg, trying to pull his boot onto the other. "Why are you saying that like it's my fault?"
"I'm not! Look, Sokka, all I'm saying is that it might be scary right now. A lot of things are changing, and Zuko doesn't have very many friends. Some of this stuff is probably really hard to talk about right now."
Did Zuko have any friends? It seemed unlikely to Sokka, even though Aang was way too quick to trust and befriend people, and Katara was spending way too much time hanging out at the lake. Neither of those things made either of them friends with Zuko.
He had to flop onto his backside to finish tugging his boots on. "How hard can it be? He told Katara all this."
"Yeah, well—would you go out there and tell Zuko how scared you were about losing Katara?"
Sokka's insides clenched. No. Absolutely not. He knew better than to show any weakness for that jerk to exploit. Setting his jaw, he stood and reached for his parka. "I'll have to see a lot more proof that I can trust him not to mess with my little sister before I tell him anything."
Aang retorted with something about how trust had to be mutual, and how they couldn't expect Zuko to trust them if they weren't willing to trust him in return, but Sokka was barely listening. He had to figure out where he'd put his boomerang and his club—he wasn't actually planning to use either of them, but it wouldn't hurt to be prepared.
Katara had close to a ten-minute head start by the time that Sokka made it out of the house. Which didn't seem that bad. She'd probably made it to the lake in that time, but it was also just the right amount of time to allow her and Zuko to really get into a conversation. Which meant that it would be just the right time for Sokka to appear and keep an eye on their shenanigans. Maybe he would just hang back and listen for a while—see what they were talking about and decide for himself whether it was worth butting in. Maybe he'd hear something that convinced him to believe what Katara said about the guy—maybe Zuko was more trustworthy than Sokka was willing to give him credit for.
Or maybe he'd hear something concerning, and then he'd be justified in interrupting them to haul Katara back to the house. That was fair, right? He didn't trust Zuko, but he wasn't leaping to conclusions about anything. He was investigating. And once he was through with that, he'd decide whether Zuko deserved any trust or not.
No matter what Katara seemed to think, Sokka really didn't hate the guy. It probably would have been easier if he did, but Zuko was easy to make fun of, and almost annoyingly frank about some things, and entertaining in an odd, stick-in-the-mud kind of way. He was the sort of guy who walked straight into jokes without realizing it, and Sokka really appreciated that sometimes.
But the problem was that Sokka could barely trust Zuko as far as he could throw him. No amount of battle planning or bending advice or life-saving could wipe out the fact that he'd kidnapped Katara, and it would take a lot of all three to outbalance it.
The sky was dark by the time that he reached the edge of the lake, and Sokka couldn't see anything—or anyone—by the edge of the pit. Which made sense. They were probably down at the bottom, talking or—whatever they did at night.
Halfway across the ice, he slowed to a crawl, and moved at a careful, crouching walk. Just like sneaking up on a leopard seal. He just had to keep low, keep his footsteps silent, and they would never know that he was nearby.
When he was less than half a dozen paces away, Sokka finally stopped, crouching down in the snow to listen. It was quiet. Really quiet. But maybe that was normal. Maybe they talked quietly or something? Zuko did have a penchant for yelling, but his normal speaking voice wasn't all that powerful. And Katara tended to mirror whatever volume other people were speaking at—she could be as loud or as quiet as she pleased, and if Zuko was talking quietly, then she would probably do the same.
But as hard as he strained his ears, he couldn't hear anything at all after a full minute, and he crept a little closer on his hands and knees. Maybe the snow was making things worse too. The fluffy stuff always had a crazy dampening effect on voices—maybe the snow at the bottom of the pit was softer than he remembered, and their voices were just being eaten up.
He listened for another minute, crept closer again, listened, and when he still couldn't hear anything, Sokka gave in and stood, peering down into the pit.
It was empty. And though he couldn't quite see into the dark of the tent, he was fairly confident that they weren't huddled together in there. The tent wasn't that big, and it would be weird to cram in there even with someone who wasn't Zuko.
Damn it. Of course Katara had dragged Zuko off somewhere else.
But the worst part wasn't the fact that they were gone—no, that would be the fact that there were small, staggered ledges cut into the ice on the opposite side of the pit. Stairs. Katara had given Zuko stairs, presumably so that he could leave whenever he pleased.
Sokka was going to have words with her as soon as he could figure out which way they'd gone. And unfortunately, in the dark, with so many sets of footprints coming and going from the pit, that could take a while.
Scowling, Sokka circled the pit, squinting down at the tracks. He couldn't be sure, but he thought that the ones leading off toward the eastern side of the city, where Appa was staying, were the freshest. Aside from his footprints, at least.
Sokka squared his shoulders and marched off along that path. He'd figure out where they'd gone. If it took him all night, he'd follow the footprints and find them.
Author's Note:
You know, someday, Sokka is going to get used to Zuko and they'll be bros. But today is not that day.
I mean, in canon, Sokka didn't hold much of a grudge against Zuko, but in canon, Zuko didn't have as much of a shady history with Katara (and chances are that Sokka didn't know much about the whole crystal catacombs thing in canon either). And if Sokka is anything, it's protective of his family. Sometimes a little bit too much. Like to the point where they tell him to lay off and he won't listen until he has proof that he can trust people.
Anyway. The Zutara Big Bang (and my fic for that event) are getting underway now, so even though I managed to build up a bit of an editing buffer (finally), I'm sticking with the every-two-weeks update schedule for the forseeable future. See you in two weeks, and in the meantime, reviews are much appreciated!
