Water

Standoff

"You must have been practicing today." Katara lay spread-eagled across from him where she'd landed after their final sparring match.

Half doubled over, with his hands resting on his knees, Zuko swiped his sleeve across his sweaty forehead. "Don't act so surprised. I'm not sure how else I'm supposed to keep up." It had only been a few days now, but bit by bit, he was building up a training routine for himself. A few hours a day every day, drilling his forms all on his own in preparation for his sparring matches with Katara. It wasn't exactly entertaining, but he knew how much practice she was getting back in the city. If he didn't use his ample free time to practice, he was going to become a very poor sparring partner for her in very little time.

Fortunately, they seemed to be moving at almost exactly the same pace now. It was sometimes maddening how well matched they'd become. Their old arrangement of three sparring matches was taking much longer than it used to.

"Thought so." Katara folded her arms back behind her head, making no effort to rise.

With a slow sigh, Zuko straightened and trudged across to her. He sat less than an arm's length away. "You know, I'm still not good at this. All the practice in the world won't make up for the fact that Uncle never taught me much more than the basics."

"Hmm."

He shot a look at her. "What?"

"I think that you're lying to yourself." She rolled her head to the side just far enough to fix him with a piercing, thoughtful gaze. "If you're not a good firebender, then how is it that you managed to beat an advanced waterbender twice just tonight? I know that I'm good at this, so—"

Zuko snorted. "I can't tell if that's supposed to make me feel better or if you're just gloating."

A grin flashed across her face. "Why can't it be both? I've been here less than a month and I've already made it to advanced waterbending lessons. I think I'm allowed to gloat a little." Without making any attempt at sitting up, she stretched out to pat his arm. "And if Master Pakku thinks that I'm an advanced waterbender now, then we're probably both better than he'd ever give us credit for."

"At least you're honest about the gloating," he said dryly, but it was difficult to keep himself from smiling along with her.

Maybe in the past, it would have been difficult or frustrating to watch her rapid progress—she had teachers who were willing to push her forward while Zuko had only ever had tutors who had left him floundering at the palace, or Uncle, who'd done everything possible to hold him back 'for his own good'—but he couldn't find even a shred of annoyance now. He'd seen how hard Katara was working. He'd been right there beside her, sparring and training and progressing through his own element while she did the same. He knew that she'd struggled and fought for every inch of progress, and he was proud of her for it.

He was proud of both of them. And Zuko could hardly remember the last time he'd been proud of himself.

"I'm—I'm really happy for you," he added, quieter than before.

"Thanks." She smiled again, soft and warm enough that his insides felt a little funny. Then her brows furrowed, and she grabbed onto his arm. "You're also making me look lazy."

"What?"

"You're sitting up." She gave him a small tug. "Why are you sitting up? That's way too much work."

He rolled his eyes but flopped back into the snow. "There. Happy now?"

"Yep. Now I'm not the only one lying around like a lazy little starfish."

"To be fair, you're the one who has an excuse for being tired. I've got nothing but free time. If I wanted, I could sleep half the day, and no one would know the difference."

Katara gave a small scoff. "I don't think you're familiar enough with the concept of relaxation for that to work."

That was—mostly fair. Zuko had certainly slept in a few times since he'd arrived at the North Pole, but he wasn't exactly changing his old patterns. He slept in when he'd been up late. Unless, of course, he had something important to do or think about when he ought to have been asleep. Then he tended to forgo it altogether.

Since he couldn't argue that point, he lapsed into silence for a few moments before he spoke again, almost involuntarily. "Before tonight, I was starting to think that you'd never come out here alone again."

"Because of Aang?"

A stab of regret hit him in the chest. Why had he brought that up again? He didn't mind Aang most of the time, but Zuko certainly didn't want to inadvertently invite Aang along to their sparring sessions. Aang was toocheerful, too loud, too young to be particularly good company in his own right. And if his presence interrupted what little time that Zuko got with Katara—well, Zuko would certainly like Aang less than he did now.

"Yeah," Zuko said reluctantly. "From the way the two of you were talking—I thought he was going to be following you around all the time." He couldn't keep the slightest edge of bitterness from creeping into his tone, and he hoped that Katara wouldn't notice.

"Yeah, well—I don't know." Her voice was subdued, and what he could see of her profile was drawn and unsmiling. "He did say that he wanted to spar with us. And he was really excited about starting lessons with me this morning, but—I think I probably scared him off in class."

Zuko propped himself up on one elbow to get a better view of her face.

Katara didn't look his way, but her mouth pressed into a thin line before she continued, "Aang wanted to be my sparring partner. As soon as we got there, he realized that none of the other kids wanted to be anywhere near me, and I guess he thought that they were bullying me or something." She pulled her arms in from the sides and played with the seams of her mittens. "So Master Taqqiq asked me to demonstrate a sparring match with another kid, and I didn't hold back. The way that Aang looked at me was—" She shook her head. "And then Master Taqqiq asked me if I wanted to move on to advanced lessons, and I was so excited that I didn't realize how upset Aang was about it."

"What right does he have to be upset about that?" Zuko demanded. He hadn't meant for his words to sound so sharp, but he couldn't help it. "You've been working for this. If he wants to move on to the next class, then he should—"

"No, I don't think that's it." If she had noticed the frustration in his voice, it didn't show. Katara was still quiet, still pensive. "It's probably just—Aang thought that we were going to be spending more time together after he switched classes. I've been so busy recently that I'm barely around anymore. It's mostly been him and Sokka for a few weeks."

"Oh." Zuko did his best to push down the bitterness that had gathered in the back of his throat. That made sense. He would miss Katara too if she were too busy to see him. He couldn't even bear the thought of it. "Do you want to be around more?" he added haltingly.

She shrugged. "I guess—yes, sort of."

He watched her in silence for a moment, heart in his throat.

"It's just that—all of the things that I've been busy with are important to me too. Even the healing hut. It's not my favorite place to be, but I don't think I would want to give it up to smooth things over either."

Slowly, Zuko reclined back into the snow again, staring up at the star-speckled sky. "What did he say when you told him that?"

A sharp scoff burst out of her. "I wouldn't know. Aang and I haven't really—talked in a long time now." Her hands clamped down on one another, and Katara paused for a long moment. Then, "Back before you—before I was on your ship, we had an argument. I got furious with Aang, and for some reason, he hid a map that would have taken Sokka and me to our dad's fleet, and I just got more furious, and then—that was the last that I saw of them for a few weeks. And by the time I got back, I thought that I was over it. The boys had already sorted things out while I was gone, so I guess I just didn't see the use in bringing it up again."

Zuko turned his head her away again, watching her face in profile, watching her hands as they moved with her story, clenching together uncomfortably at all the pauses.

"I know it's silly," she continued, her voice dropping a little. "But every once in a while, when I'm alone with Aang, I start thinking about that argument again, and all the feelings come back up, and—I just can't get them to go away. So I've been keeping my distance, and—" She broke off with a groan and covered her face with her arms. "Maybe I'm just being a bad friend."

Zuko struggled against the impulse to blurt out that that wasn't possible—that Katara was an amazing friend, possibly the best—and after a moment, his mouth took over. He blurted out, "But what kind of friend would keep you away from your family?" Which was worse. Much worse.

Katara turned his way sharply and stared, one eyebrow raised.

His face went hot. "I—I mean—"

"I see that someone has mastered the power of hindsight."

Zuko wasn't sure if he'd ever wanted to sink straight into the ground so badly before. "I'm sorry, Katara."

She snorted, and a crooked smile made its way across her face. "Do you always get that warm when you're embarrassed? I can feel the heat from here."

He wished that he was just embarrassed. Embarrassment was nothing by comparison with this. He fumbled for words.

"Relax," Katara added when he couldn't come up with anything. "I think you've jumped in front of enough explosions to prove that you're actually sorry by now."

That, unfortunately, wasn't enough to stop his face burning, and he had to turn his head almost entirely away from her. Then, when he at last managed to find his voice again, "What was the argument?"

She seemed unbothered, and gave a short, breathy laugh. "It was stupid, really."

"Couldn't be any stupider than what I just said."

For a few moments, she was quiet before she began, "You remember that waterbending scroll that I stole from the pirate ship?"

Zuko nodded.

"Well, when I brought the scroll back, Aang decided that he wanted to practice waterbending with me. That was the very first time he'd ever wanted to practice with me even though I'd been working off of a scroll that I'd hand copied for ages by that point. I was trying so hard not to worry about why that was, but—" She paused, voice wavering ever so slightly. "But the day he finally started, Aang was just so good at everything without even trying. He caught up with me in one afternoon, and it just seemed so unfair how little my work mattered that I just—I snapped."

Zuko's chest grew a little tight.

"And I know that it's so stupid to keep hanging onto that now when I'm making so much more progress than he is, but—what if that ends up not being enough? What if I'm not—" She cut off again, and this time, it seemed like she didn't want to go on.

Zuko didn't know what to say to her. There were a thousand things he could say, dozens that he wanted to say, but nothing felt quite right. Acting entirely on impulse, he reached across the snow between them and touched her arm. "I know how that feels."

Katara's gaze locked with his. "You do?"

Mouth dry, he nodded. "Yeah. It's been a long time now, but—when I was a kid, it was pretty much the same with me and my sister. She was a prodigy, and I was just lucky if I could make it through a single lesson without some sort of accident." He stopped and swallowed down the sour feeling in the back of his throat. "I guess—my point is that if I still can't make that feeling go away, then you shouldn't have to feel stupid for letting it bother you."

"You think so?"

Zuko nodded. "Yeah. And if I know anything, it's that you're better at this—the feelings and things—than I've ever been. You'll figure it out before I do."

She smiled. "I appreciate the confidence." With a small sigh, she looked up at the sky again. "Either way, I guess it's nice knowing that I haven't completely lost my mind."

"Not unless I'm more insane than I thought."

Rising up on one elbow, Katara stuck her tongue out at him. "Rude. I'm trying to make us both feel better, and you just—" She broke off, brows furrowing. "Did you hear that?"

Zuko frowned, straining to listen until an odd croaking sound cut through the air. His eyes widened, and he sat up straight.

Katara straightened beside him. "What is it?"

He shook his head, but called out doubtfully, "Frog Face?"

She looked at him like he'd sprouted a new head. "What are you talking about?"

There was another odd noise, this one a bit closer to the sound of a creaking door, and Zuko pushed to his feet. "Just—follow me if you want to see."

"That isn't exactly a reassuring thing to hear," Katara said, but she scrambled up after him.

"It's—some kind of bird," Zuko said in a hiss. "The creepiest one I've ever seen."

Summoning a small flame, he jogged toward the sound, scanning each and every snowbank while Katara followed several paces behind. And sure enough, after a few minutes searching the slopes on the western side of the ridge, Zuko spotted a little ball of feathery fluff wading up toward the ridge.

"What a little creep," he grumbled. When Frog Face turned back to squawk at him, though, Zuko ran up the slope and scooped the stupid little bird up in one hand. The last thing he needed was more of the obnoxious calls coming from just outside of camp.

Holding Frog Face out in front of him, he made his way back down to Katara. "This is Frog Face. I made the mistake of sharing my food one time, and this little creep wouldn't leave me alone after that."

Katara's eyebrows shot up, but her expression softened when she got a closer view of Frog Face. "Aww. He's so cute."

"Believe me, the staring gets a lot less cute after the first few minutes. I was stuck with Frog Face for three days straight."

Katara stole a quick glance up at him before she started stroking Frog Face's downy back. "After three days, it sounds more like a choice."

Zuko frowned. "Every time I tried to leave Frog Face behind, he tried jumping into the water. I didn't feel like watching a stupid bird drown, so I kind of had to live with it until I was a few miles inland."

A smile flashed across her face. "I think it's nice that you took care of him." She gave the bird a small pat on the head. "And I think Frog Face likes you."

Zuko's face warmed. "I think I'm beginning to regret calling him Frog Face."

"Oh, that's nothing. You should hear some of the names that the rest of us come up with. If anything, this makes you fit in better."

He made a face. "That's terrifying, thanks."

Katara grinned. "You're welcome. So—what are we going to do about Frog Face?"

He paused a moment to think about that, then shook his head. "I honestly don't have a clue."


"I told you that I was going to make you pay," Hahn announced.

Sokka turned back toward him. What? Hadn't they done this yesterday? Or had Hahn forgotten about that? It seemed possible. Hahn had never seemed that bright.

"What do you even think that you're talking about?" Sokka demanded. "You absolute—"

"I talked to my dad. And he said that—"

"Hahn," Siqiniq called from around the corner. "Go home. I already told you, I don't want you dawdling when you should be helping with your brothers."

Hahn groaned and rolled his eyes but sidled toward the exit. "Fine, Dad." He shot a look back at Sokka, though, and mouthed, "You're going to pay," one more time before he finally left.

Sokka shook his head as he sat down to knock out the ice that had built up on the bottom of his boots. Hahn was probably just talking out of his ass again. That seemed to happen a lot. Nothing of much importance had happened since yesterday, and Sokka certainly hadn't paid for anything he'd done wrong. He would have had to do something wrong in order for that to happen.

He'd managed to clean up the sole of one of his boots and was just moving on to the other when Siqiniq called out again. "Sokka? Are you still here?"

"Yeah." He gave up on his right boot and stood up. He could finish that later. "Sorry, I'm just on my way out."

"No, that's good." Siqiniq stuck his head around the corner, and actually looked a little relieved to find that Hahn had left. "I've been meaning to have a word with you."

Oh? He couldn't imagine what it could possibly be about. Unlike Katara and Aang, Sokka had been tossed into training along with the other boys his age and size, and there was little differentiation between skill levels in nonbending lessons, so there was almost no chance that he was going to be bumped from class to class like the others. Sokka wasn't the best fighter, but he was big enough to squash some of the younger kids, and though he wasn't the worst fighter, he was scrawny enough to be squashed by the warriors who actually went out to defend the city. So it wasn't that, and Siqiniq couldn't have many other reasons for wanting to talk to him.

"Sure." Sokka wiped the snow off the front of his parka.

"I understand that you and my son have been having some disagreements recently."

Ugh. Sokka nodded. It wasn't like it was new or subtle enough to slip past anyone. "That's putting it mildly."

Siqiniq waited.

"I'm not trying to pick fights with him," Sokka added. "I think Hahn's just worked up because me and my sister and Aang are the ones who figured out that the Fire Nation fleet was going to attack. He keeps saying that it's so obvious that we're up to something just because—y'know. Because we've seen the outside world and watched how these people operate." He was a little proud of himself when he finished. He hadn't lied a bit, and yet he didn't sound suspicious.

"And you're not up to anything?"

"No," Sokka scoffed. "We've dealt with the Fire Nation before, that's all. Hell, my sister was on one of their ships for a few weeks, and she's punched the crown prince in the face before. It would be weird if we didn't have a little inside information."

Siqiniq nodded. "Then that's all as I expected."

Cool. Sokka still didn't have the faintest idea of what Siqiniq was getting at, but it was nice to know that his version of events was passably convincing.

"As I'm sure you've guessed by now," Siqiniq resumed, "We're busy making preparations to deal with the oncoming invasion force. While the waterbenders will be handling most of the combat, with our more experienced warriors acting as their backup, most of the boys your age will be stationed around the city to act as sentries when the ships arrive. Whenever that may be."

Five days to go, Sokka barely stopped himself from blurting. If he gave away more than he was supposed to know at the moment, that would be bad. Very bad.

He managed to nod without giving anything else away. "Sounds good to me. So do you have an idea of where I'll be stationed, or—"

"Not exactly." Siqiniq sighed. "Sokka, you have been showing many signs of improvement recently. I appreciate the work that you've been doing, and I must admit that you are good with the rest of the class. You get along with them well, and it seems that they respect you."

Uh-oh. There had to be a 'but' coming.

Sure enough, he went on, "But our team of sentries needs to act as a single, cohesive unit. Which means that I don't believe that it will be possible for you and Hahn to both be involved." There was a weighty pause. "And since Hahn is more familiar with both the city and the other students, he will be leading this team. I'm sorry to say that there will not be a place for you to take part in that mission."


Advanced waterbending training was hard. More difficult than her practice with Zuko by far, and possibly a tiny bit beyond what Katara was really ready to undertake, but she'd never backed away from a challenge before. She wasn't going to start now, even if all of her new classmates were bigger than her, stronger than her, older than her, and far, far more experienced benders. The youngest of them was at least the same age as Zuko, if not even older, and nearly all of her classmates sported some amount of facial hair. If she was going to lose to someone, she supposed, it may as well be to a bunch of burly, well-trained waterbenders.

And she did lose. Frequently. Though her new classmates were still a bit unoriginal in their fighting, they'd all trained for long enough that they could string flawless forms into complex, difficult attacks while still sparing enough attention to Katara's movements to counter her blows.

One by one, she made her way through each of her sparring partners, and one by one, she lost every match. And, aside from the fact that she could feel bruises in places that she didn't think she could reach to heal on her own, she loved every moment of it. She didn't even mind it when the others began looking at her like she'd sprouted a second head when she got frozen upside down to an ice column and sprang right back up to fight again after she managed to free herself. So what if they thought she was crazy? This was the sort of bending that she'd come here for. And if it happened to be turned against her at the moment, at least she was getting an opportunity to see how it worked. At least she could start picking up bits and pieces of the others' techniques to use for herself.

She couldn't wait to show all of this to Zuko. Later tonight, after she'd been to the healing huts and asked Imiq to mend the bruises that she couldn't reach between her shoulder blades, she would take him off guard in a few of their sparring matches until he started to catch on and match his bending to hers. Maybe she wouldn't be a master by the time that the fleet arrived—they didn't have that much time left—but she was going to come as close as she possibly could, and she would make certain that Zuko came along with her every step of the way.

Only her last opponent—Angun, she thought she remembered—gave her anything more than a look of shock when they were through sparring. It was just a quick nod and an approving, 'not bad for your first day,' but it was good enough for Katara. She thought she was going to like this class. Even if it was just for the bending. Even if she never made any friends here. It would be worth it for everything she learned.

"Do not forget," Pakku barked over them all at the end of the lesson, "that you will be switching focus again tomorrow. Do not forget to practice proper forms while you work with Master Pingasut beyond the wall tomorrow."

Tomorrow. Katara wasn't sure how well she would like going beyond the walls to help build defenses for the city with a bunch of her new classmates. It wouldn't be fighting. The pace would be much slower, much more deliberate than anything she'd done so far, but if the work she'd done today was any indication, it could still be worthwhile.

"And Katara," Pakku added once most of the class had made it into the street. "A moment, please. There are several things that I must discuss with you."

Okay, so maybe she'd been a little too optimistic. She could only enjoy the class so much with Pakku for a teacher, especially if he was going to use the opportunity to pull her aside and talk about Gran-Gran or whatever it was that he was planning.

Pakku waited a while after the arena was empty before he so much as acknowledged her again. Then, "You did well today. Better than I expected, considering how little practice you have had recently."

She raised an eyebrow. "I'm still getting plenty of practice. I spent most of my free time waterbending while you and the rest of the masters were gone."

Pakku grunted, then finally met her eyes after a lengthy pause. "I have some reason to suspect that you have had contact with the Fire Nation fleet recently."

Katara blinked. There wasn't much more that she could do. "I—um. Are—are you accusing me of something, Master Pakku?"

"Should I?"

Slowly, she shook her head. "Of course not. I'm doing everything I can to help prepare for the fleet's attack."

"Hmpf." Pakku crossed his arms. "I am aware."

"Then why are you saying that I might have been in contact with them?" Her pulse had sped up considerably, and she did her best to keep her breathing under control. Admitting too much would be suspicious. Denying too much could be even more suspicious. The best she could do was keep from leaping to any conclusions. "How would I have even contacted anyone? I haven't left the city since we told the council what we'd seen around Kokkyo Island. None of us have."

Pakku pressed his mouth into a thin line. It was almost like he was trying to choose his words as carefully as she was. Which was weird. "As I'm sure you are well aware, there are other ways to communicate. By letter, for instance."

She clenched her jaw. "And what? You think I've been sticking letters in bottles and floating them out to the Fire Nation fleet?"

"Don't be absurd. You and I both know that there are more reasonable methods." There was a pointed pause. "I don't wish to doubt you, but I have had my suspicions since the night when I found you by the city wall. The same night when you had apparently just acquired a large amount of information about the fleet's approach. There is no way you could have been so unconcerned with what you had just learned on that day unless there were other factors involved."

"I was concerned!" she retorted. "Has it ever occurred to you that that's why I couldn't sleep that night? I knew that bad things were coming. That's why I had to take a walk to clear my head. There wasn't much else I could do when Princess Yue didn't want all of us to speak to the chief right away."

He scowled. "I saw the hawk that night."

Katara squared her shoulders. So far, there hadn't been a single point that she couldn't very easily refute, and this was no different. "You saw a seagull."

Although Pakku didn't immediately respond, there was something in the sharpness of his eyes that put her on edge. Something that said very clearly that he didn't believe her. That somehow, he was able to see through her lie.

He shouldn't have been able to. Pakku had no reason to know anything about the Fire Nation, much less to keep her name out of it if he suspected that she was involved somehow. If he really believed that she was communicating with the fleet, then he ought to see it as a threat. He ought to be bringing her in front of the council rather than just pulling her aside after waterbending lessons.

Unless—unless Pakku knew even more than she did.

"How do you even know about Fire Nation messenger hawks?" she demanded. "I've seen plenty of them on the way here from the South Pole, but you—"

Pakku changed color—first reddening a bit, then going a little grayer than usual. "I've—I've always been interested in historical texts. I've amassed quite a library over the years, and there is no shortage of illustrations to be found there."

He said it like there was nothing at all suspicious about his tone, and Katara planted her hands on her hips. There was something going on, and it was maddening that she could only press so hard without giving Zuko away.

"Even if I had doubts about what I saw that night," Pakku said, pressing onward. "I saw one of the hawks circling the city on the very day that I arrived back with the other masters. In the broad daylight, I can hardly have been mistaken."

Her heart skipped a beat, and her mouth went dry. He'd seen that? Maybe she and Zuko would have been better off to have launched the messenger hawk from someplace further inland—maybe even from the lake, if that meant that the hawk wouldn't have needed to circle the city until Zuko called to her.

"And?" she ventured, holding her voice as steady as she could. "Am I supposed to know something about that? I was in the healing huts when everyone got back."

Pakku hesitated. That, it seemed, was a bit of a problem for the version of the story that he'd concocted in his head. "I have reason to believe that there is a firebender loose in the area around the city."

She was probably supposed to act like that frightened her. She was probably supposed to ask whether they were in danger from this supposed firebender. Instead, she set her jaw. "Where did you get an idea like that?"

Now it was Pakku's turn to clam up again. Interesting. If he was as certain about there being a firebender in the area as he clearly wanted her to believe, then he must have heard something somewhere. Katara just had to figure out where he'd gotten that from.

"Did you see this firebender who you think is wandering around the North Pole?" she asked.

"I—as a matter of fact, yes. I caught a brief glimpse of him."

Ha. That could hardly have worked out better if she'd planned it. Katara jutted out her chin. "So why aren't there any guards out searching for this firebender? If you're telling the truth and you actually saw him, then—"

Pakku narrowed his eyes. "You are far too much like your grandmother," he muttered.

"So someone told you that there was a firebender nearby?" she asked, ignoring that bit. "It's obvious that you haven't seen anything, or you'd have the whole city out looking. Now I'm not sure why you decided to accuse me of talking to the Fire Navy fleet. It almost sounds like you're the one doing that."

Pakku's scowl deepened, and he looked a bit constipated. "We have gotten rather off track, I am afraid."

"There was a right track?"

The constipated look faded directly into annoyance. "I intended to ask you whether there was any other information you could share about the fleet." A pointed glare. "Since it seems that you have such a remarkable grasp of their inner workings."

Katara shook her head. She knew when the fleet would be arriving, nothing more, and the boys had agreed to pass that information along later in the day. There was nothing that she had to feel guilty for withholding, at least.

"It seems to me that you know even more than I do."

Pakku frowned, then gave a dismissive wave as he started toward the exit. "I had hoped that we might have a more civilized conversation, but it seems that that isn't possible. No matter. I will see you again tomorrow for your lesson."

Katara felt her eyebrows furrow. "But—I'm going with the others to help build up the defenses outside the city tomorrow."

"Oh." Pakku stopped, turning back to face her. "It seems that I may have neglected to mention that. No, you will not be venturing outside the walls. As you have only just begun your lessons, you will remain here in regular lessons where I can provide proper supervision."

"What? But I—"

"And," Pakku added, a slight, gloating edge to his voice, "when the fleet arrives, you will be assisting in the healing huts, not with the evacuation team."

"What?" Her voice came out incredibly shrill.

A small, satisfied nod. "You are a guest here. As such, we intend to keep you out of harm's way along with all of your friends."

"You can't do that, Master Pakku!"

"I think you'll find that I can." He began to turn away.

"But—" It was growing a little harder to breathe, and she spoke almost without thinking. "You can't keep me out of this, Master Pakku. This is my fight. I'm the Avatar."

Pakku stopped and turned back her way. "You're what?"

"I—I know it sounds crazy, but I am! Aang died inside that glacier just before I was born, and somehow, I revived him. I don't know how or why it happened, but now there's two of us."

Pakku still hadn't reacted, and desperation took hold.

"You don't believe me? Is that it? Watch me." She held a hand out in front of her, straining to remember the instructions that Zuko had given her when she'd nearly frozen in the lake. That warmth inside of you—that's where firebending comes from. If you concentrate on it and breathe deeply, it'll expand. She opened her eyes. There was no flame, but an unmistakable stream of sparks poured from her palm.

Pakku merely raised an eyebrow. "I'm afraid that you misunderstand me. I did not ask for proof."

"But—then you have to let me help! It's my destiny to—"

"To restore balance," Pakku interrupted. "Not to involve yourself in a battle that can be easily won without your involvement." He turned to go again. "I have known for some time, Katara. And I consider it my duty to ensure that you survive long enough to become the Avatar that the world will need."


Author's Note:

You know, a lot of the time, I have trouble coming up with chapter titles because it's hard to pinpoint what makes the chapter significant to the overall story. This time, I almost had too many significant things to choose from. But "The Return of Frog Face" would have been spoilery and also would have missed a lot of the important stuff later on. Like Pakku knowing ALL OF THE THINGS and keeping it all close to his chest because there's enough mutual mistrust (and lingering sexism and fixation on Kanna's potential affection on Pakku's side) left between them that they refuse to talk to each other ;)

There's still ten chapters left to go, but it feels like we're getting SO close to the end now! I hope you enjoyed this one, and I'll be back in two weeks with the next one. In the meantime, reviews are always appreciated!