"Winter Solstice"

Water has three properties—three relevant properties which I can remember, that is to say, for it must have many more. One of them is that of cooling things; however hot we are, water tempers the heat, and it will even put out a large fire, except when there is tar in the fire, in which case, they say, it only burns the more. God help me! What a marvellous thing it is that, when this fire is strong and fierce and subject to none of the elements, water should make it grow fiercer, and, though its contrary element, should not quench it but only cause it to burn the more! Saint Teresa of Avila, The Way of Perfection, translated by E. Allison Peers

"Uh-oh. What happened?" Suki asked when Katara came back to her room, with a teacup Aang in her hand and a sad expression on her face.

"I'm honestly not sure," Katara said, setting Aang down on the table.

"Katara took Prince Zuko ice skating," Aang piped up.

"Really?" This piqued the wardrobe's interest. "That's new. Did you have fun?"

"Yes! And everything was going great—and then he stormed back into the castle." Katara looked to Aang. "Did I do something?"

"Not that I noticed," he answered.

Katara sighed and started sorting through a pile of books she had taken from the library. "Why is Zuko such a grump?"

"I don't know," Aang said honestly. "He's always like that."

"Even at Winter Solstice?"

"Yep." Aang paused, a curious look crossing his porcelain features. "Katara … what's Winter Solstice?"

Suki's eyes widened, and she tensed. She wasn't quite as in the loop as the other enchanted objects, but even she knew that this was a very sensitive topic in the castle.

Katara frowned. "Oh, Aang, you must know about Winter Solstice. Bonfires? A Yule Log? New Year? Presents?"

Aang's eyes lit up. "Presents!" he said excitedly. "Do I get one?"

Katara laughed at his excitement. "Of course, everyone gets a present on the Solstice."

"Even the Prince?"

Katara smiled. "Yes, even the Prince."

"What are you going to get him?"

The question caught her slightly off guard. The idea hadn't occurred to her—but then again, it wasn't a bad idea. She was a kind person by nature, and in a way she couldn't put her finger on, she wanted to be nice to him. Maybe a gift would be a good way to reach out to him. Katara frowned and leaned back on the table. "I don't know him well enough to know what he would want," she realized.

"What would you want?"

"Well … what I love most of all are my books and scrolls. My stories."

"Why don't you give Zuko a story?" Aang suggested.

Katara blinked. "Actually … that's not a bad idea."

Could she do it? She had read so many good pieces, she knew how words were supposed to flow. But writing a story was very different from reading one, especially if she had to make it up.

Or she could tell a true story. Maybe even … a story of friendship. Yes. Then he could either accept it, or reject it.

"You're right, Aang." Katara pulled out a blank roll of parchment. "A story." She sat down at the desk, and found it supplied with paper, ink, and calligraphy pens. When was the last time she had used those, or did anything creative? It felt good, choosing each word and painting each character. She wrote an introduction, just one page, as it came to her quickly. Then she set the brush down and leaned back in her chair.

"Do you think he'll like his present?" Aang asked, seeing her pause in her work.

Katara smiled, hopeful and a bit wistful. "I hope so."

"So does this mean we're going to have a Solstice?" Suki asked.

"Absolutely," was Katara's confident answer.

"Absolutely not," Arnook said sternly.

The Kyoshi Warrior kitchenware whined in unison, "Why not?"

"It's out of the question," Arnook said.

"Come on!" the teacups sighed.

"Get with the spirit," Iroh encouraged.

"Please, Father?" Yue wheedled.

"No. This is where I put my foot down. Prince Zuko has forbidden Winter Solstice!"

"Forbid Solstice?" Katara repeated incredulously. "No one can forbid Solstice. He can't stop the earth's axis from tilting away from the sun. Holidays happen whether you celebrate them or not."

But Arnook was adamant. "He doesn't wish to be reminded of his past, and the Winter Solstice is a most painful reminder of it. I, for one, don't wish with torment him."

"Well I, for one, think a little winter cheer would do him good," Katara stated.

"The girl is right," Iroh agreed. "It is up to us to do something."

Arnook was clearly agitated. "It's not our place to get involved!"

"I think it's a wonderful idea," Yue put in.

"But the Prince doesn't. His castle, his rules."

No one noticed Azula's eyes and ears arrive. Ty Lee hid behind a bag of flour in a corner of the kitchen, listening with rapt attention and some genuine curiosity.

"It's not fair," Aang whined.

Yue sighed. "Look at us, arguing like this. And we used to have the very best Winter Solstice celebrations. At the North Pole, it was the turning point of the winter, when it was dark for weeks … we used to have feasts …"

"Five-flavor soup," Katara said casually.

"Ocean kumquats," Yue added. Aang made a disgusted face.

"Tentacle soup," Katara said gleefully.

Arnook snapped his scope up. "Tentacle soup? With—with noodles?"

"What do you take us for, barbarians?" Iroh exclaimed, before breaking into a smile. "Of course with noodles!"

For the first time, Arnook looked a little bit enticed, but he still hesitated. "Oh—all right," Arnook conceded.

Aang let out a whoop. The Kyoshi Warriors cheered. Yue looked delighted.

"But please – the prince will be furious if he finds out. So everyone, keep quiet, at least for now."

Ty Lee giggled and nodded to herself.

"We'll see to the dinner," one of the Kyoshi Warriors volunteered.

"I'll find some greenery," Iroh said.

"We need to brighten this place up," Katara agreed.

"Come on, everyone, let's get to work!" Iroh rallied them.

Aang hopped over. "Katara, come with me. I know someone who can help us."

"Okay." Katara took the teacup in her hand. "Where to?"

"One of the towers. Bring Iroh—we'll need light up there."

"Now, I've overseen more Solstice celebrations than anyone, so I'll be in charge of …" Arnook stopped, realizing that everyone had left. He shook his head and shouted, "Wait for me!"

"Nine hundred ninety-seven, nine hundred ninety-eight … are we almost there?"

"More than halfway," Katara answered.

"That was the thousandth stair!" Aang exclaimed.

Katara laughed. "You're not the one climbing them!"

She held Iroh up to light the way. The stairs wound continuously up the tower. Finally, after at least a quarter of an hour, they reached a ancient wooden door. Katara undid the heavy metal latch, and the trio entered the attic.

The air was musty. Iroh's candles threw light onto dust-covered trunks and boxes, all sealed shut.

"Hello?" Katara called out quietly. "Anyone here?" She could have sworn she heard something—or some things—moving around, maybe hiding behind the storage containers.

"Don't be afraid!" the teacup called out. "It's me, Aang, and Iroh!"

"We have come to pay you a little visit," Iroh said cheerfully, as if it had been days and not years since anyone had come up here.

There was a creaking sound, like a trunk being opened. Katara was getting that now-familiar feeling that she was being watched.

"Aang?" said a voice that was all at once curious, surprised, and happy.

Katara turned, and they saw something peeking out from a trunk whose lid was now ajar. Aang's eyes lit up in recognition."Meng!"

The object climbed over the side of the trunk and landed gracefully on the floor. It was a porcelain doll, about seven inches high, dressed in pink and green robes, with two yarn braids that stuck up at odd angles. She was a bit disheveled, but pretty nonetheless. Katara set Aang and Iroh on the floor, and smiled as Aang hopped over to the doll. "Meng! You're looking well."

"Aang—I thought I'd never see you again," Meng said. "I thought I'd be locked in that trunk forever. Why didn't you come before?" Her painted lips formed a cute pout.

"It's a lot of stairs for a cup to climb," Aang pointed out. "I was carried today."

Katara cleared her throat. "Oh," Aang said hastily. "Meng, this is Katara, Prince Zuko's guest."

"I'm pleased to meet you," Katara said cordially.

"Likewise," Meng said, but her eyes were a little suspicious.

"Meng is the castle decorator," Iroh said.

"You mean was the castle decorator," Meng corrected. "I'm not responsible for this decrepit temple of gloom." She looked around wistfully. "When I was in charge, the castle was bright and colorful … it had character, but in a good way."

"But that's why we're here," Aang said. "We need your help." He jumped up onto the trunk, and whistled to get all the decorations' attention. "Listen up everyone! We're planning the greatest Winter Solstice celebration ever!"

Everyone cheered. Katara felt almost giddy with excitement.

"No!"

All heads turned to look at Meng in shock.

Aang looked concerned. "What is it, Meng?"

"Why do you get our hopes up, only to have them dashed? No, no more. It hurts too much, to put all your effort into something and have it fall apart."

"But Meng … the Solstice is the day after tomorrow. Without you, we'll never get the castle decorated in time."

"Ha! Winter Solstice. I remember the first time we celebrated it." Meng shook her head at the memory. "I refuse to hope for it anymore. I won't be disappointed again."

"But this is going to be the greatest celebration ever!" Aang burst out. "We can't do it without you."

"Well, of course you can't," Meng said, a bit arrogantly. "A celebration like that takes planning and organization. But no, I won't do it. It won't change anything."

"I believe it will." Katara's voice was soft, but it carried through the cavernous attic. Everyone turned to look at her.

"The Winter Solstice isn't about bonfires or presents or snow. Those things come and go, every year. But there's a much deeper, more important aspect." She glanced around and continued, with something like conviction.

"The Winter Solstice is the longest, darkest night of the year. But you know that after the Solstice, the days will get longer, the sun will come back. It's a very symbolic holiday, a turning point. It's about hope."

Iroh nodded wisely. Aang turned back to the doll. "Please, Meng? Will you do it for me?" he pressed.

Meng's frown faltered at this. She realized that the decorations were looking at her expectantly. "Oh … all right," she relented.

"Woo-hoo!" Aang jumped up and cheered; he wasn't the only one.

"Come on, everyone." Katara stood, holding up Iroh and leading the way down the stairs.

"That went well," Iroh said optimistically.

Katara glanced over her shoulder. "I don't think Meng is completely sold on the idea," she said quietly.

"She'll come around. She used to work for Aunt Wu," Iroh confided. "She believes in her predictions, and doesn't hope for otherwise."

Aang came up alongside Meng, who was leading the decorations down the spiraling staircase. "Don't tell me you aren't a little excited."

"Mm … just for old time's sake."

"Do you really believe that – that we shouldn't even hope?"

Meng shrugged. "Why climb a mountain when you know you're going to fall?"

Aang frowned thoughtfully, trying to imagine it. "That depends on how great the height is—and how worthwhile the view is."

"I didn't mean literally."

"Neither did I."

"Winter Solstice?" Zuko repeated, incredulous and angry. "She's planning a Solstice celebration?"

"Yes," Azula said, her tone simultaneously disgusted and sympathetic. "Awful, isn't it?"

Zuko scowled and slumped into a chair before the fireplace.

"Maybe she doesn't know how I feel about it," Zuko murmured.

"But she does know," Azula said, which wasn't a complete lie.

Zuko looked up sharply.

"She just doesn't care, like I do. She's actually trying to bring the New Year into the castle. And you know how much we despise Winter Solstice."

Zuko stared into the fire. "The day my life ended," he said flatly. He could remember it all so clearly: the party, the harsh snowstorm, even Suki's present. And then he was left with two souvenirs, a mirror and a flower.

"But we've come so far since then," Azula said consolingly. "We've risen above the tragedy."

Zuko scowled and stood up. "Where is she?"

"I believe she's gone to the boiler room."

For the first time, Zuko looked closely at his sister. "How do you know so much about this?"

"A little birdie told me," Azula said, sounding almost sinisterly playful.

Ty Lee giggled in the corner. "Tweet, tweet," she whistled.

Katara had never been to the boiler room before. This was where the servants—animated picks and axes—kept the castle warm, adding wood to a strange stove-like contraption that made Katara think of Sokka. He would have been fascinated and tried to figure out how it worked.

Katara went over to the wood stacked in a pile against the wall. She could just choose a log at random, but it should be one that looked good, smelled good while burning, and would burn for a fairly long time. For a few minutes she picked out logs and examined them. She had almost decided, when she thought she heard footsteps – human footsteps. She turned, holding the log behind her back, and was slightly startled to see Zuko had already come down the stairs into the room. "Oh!"

Zuko looked down at her. "What are you hiding?"

"Nothing," she said innocently.

"Don't lie to me, Katara," he said, with a definite edge to his voice.

"Well … it was supposed to be a secret. I suppose you would know about secrets," Katara said, somehow casual and pointed at the same time. Zuko reached behind her and grabbed the piece of wood out of her hands.

"It's a Yule log," Katara explained.

"Huh?"

"It's a wonderful tradition," Katara said with a small smile. "One log is chosen, then everyone in the house touches it, and makes a wish for the New Year."

Zuko scowled. "Wishes are stupid." He tossed the log on the ground. "You made a New Year's wish last year. Is this what you wished for?" He gestured around them, indicating the castle.

"No … but I will keep wishing," Katara said stubbornly. "And when the log is burned on the Winter Solstice—"

"There will be no Solstice."

"But—"

"NO!" In his anger, Zuko threw a flame at the small log, and it started burning on the stone floor. "I am the master here."

"How can you be so selfish?" Katara exclaimed.

"You cannot possibly understand," Zuko said bitterly. "You have no idea what it's like to lose everything, to be trapped in your own castle, to be a, a—" Here he faltered.

Katara spoke up quietly. "Prisoner?"

There was a brief silence. Zuko didn't retract anything he had said, though they both realized he was wrong. She did know.

"The only one holding us prisoner here is you," Katara said, glaring at him. "Well, I'm not giving up." She turned on her heel and walked away, turning the corner a moment later.

She heard Zuko make a noise like a scowl or a groan. She peeked out from around the corner, and saw his back was turned. He kicked at the now smoldering log. "Prisoner," Zuko murmured to himself.