Ozai's Vengeance

Summary: Twelve years after the final battle, Zuko summons Katara to heal the victims of an epidemic spreading throughout the Fire Nation. [Katara/Zuko

Rating: T for Teen

Disclaimer: ATLA belongs to Nickelodeon and VIACOM. Not me. No profit is made by this story.

Years Later

"Well?" Zuko asked. "How bad is it?"

Iroh's clasped his hands behind his back. He shifted weight from heel to toe and back again. His eyes searched the ceiling, then the floor. And with his gaze, Zuko's hopes sank.

"I see," he said.

"The sickness takes young and old alike," Iroh said. "The healers can find no common denominator. The symptoms sometimes vary. But it all ends one way."

Zuko's eyes narrowed. "Madness."

The Fire Lord took a deep breath. He stared at his mother's study -- it remained one of the few places he felt comfortable in the palace, despite his years ruling there. For what felt like the hundredth time, his gaze focused on the map dominating one wall. His eyes drifted over the bays and mountains to the tiny refining town of Tetsushi, situated at the extreme tip of the northernmost island in the Fire Nation archipelago. The sickness had originated in Tetsushi months ago. The town's doctors reported isolated incidents of unshakeable nausea, then vomiting. But the illness spread and grew. Men and women, rich and poor, it seemed to cut them all down: first came the stomach ailments, then a malaise that kept them bedridden. Their lips and the skin around their eyes went blue; they were wracked by convulsions, then rigidity, and finally death. All accounts described the affliction as incredibly painful. Now the sickness had spread to nearby communities. Zuko had no clue how to stop it.

"They're calling it 'Ozai's Vengeance,'" Iroh said.

Zuko shot his uncle a look telling the old man not to risk another word. He pushed back from his desk, upsetting a lacquered brush-holder as he did so. The brushes tumbled to the floor. Ignoring them, he strode past his uncle toward.

"Lord Zuko, where are you-"

"How long will it take a message to reach the Southern Air Temple?" Zuko looked over his shoulder. "You correspond with her, don't you?"

Iroh sighed. "You would know that if you wrote her a letter once in a while, Zuko."

He was not to be deterred. "How long?"

"A little more than a week, using the fastest dragon-hawk," Iroh said. "But don't expect to get much use out of the bird when it returns."

"It's a small price to pay." He pushed the door aside with one hand. "Tell the men in the arsenal to ready their fastest boat. They're to send it as soon as my hawk leaves the aviary. I'll get word to the southern balloon station."

Iroh frowned. "Shouldn't you wait for Lady Katara's reply? It's rude to expect her to visit simply because you demand it."

Zuko rounded on him. "My people are dying, Uncle! They need a master healer, not country doctors who think Ozai's spirit is punishing them. I'm not demanding, I'm pleading."

The words sounded pathetic in his ears. He recovered himself and added: "If she was good enough for the Avatar, she's good enough for the people of Tetsushi."

Iroh looked as though he had something further to say, but he remained silent. He exhaled slowly, drew himself to his full height, and left the room. Zuko watched him go. And despite several moments' meditation later that evening, he was unable to shake the feeling that he had just treated Katara like a weapon in his armory, not a person -- and definitely not a friend. He had the strangest suspicion that Azula would have been proud.

≅

Lady Katara of the Southern Air Temple, "The Bloodbender," as she was known in the stories that had cropped up since Ozai's defeat, arrived weeks later on a Fire Navy ship. The sun stood at its zenith. Behind them lay the capital city of Kaino-tama, a series of red tile roofs spreading from the hillside palace on down to the sea and its islands in the distance. Squinting, Zuko saw Katara as a speck of blue against gray iron. He shaded his eyes with one hand as the speck grew larger and larger until he could pick out her hands clenched on the ship's railing. She wore a braid coiled into a low bun secured with hair-sticks he recalled having been a gift from his uncle. From high above, she waved to him and he felt something within loosen just a little. She's safe. She's here, and she can help. He lifted one hand in greeting. Wind whipped his face.

The ships creaked, and its black prow fell suddenly, exposing the staircase. Katara picked her way down, a bag over one shoulder and a water-skin at her hip, her blue skirts pinched up between two fingers. Iroh was there first and let Katara out of the basket before enfolding her in a mighty embrace. Katara cast a surprised look over his shoulder to Zuko, who merely nodded. Uncle has wanted her to visit for years. Now he has his wish.

Iroh threaded Katara's arm through his and they walked to Zuko, who bowed deeply. "Lady Katara," he said. "Thank you for arriving on such short notice. Please accept my apologies for the inconvenience my request must have caused."

Katara's mouth fell open, and a tiny, smug part inside Zuko punched the air. Seeming to recover herself, Katara smiled and said: "See? I always said you could be nice."

"Tell no one," Zuko said, and took his place beside her. She stood, a soft indigo figure between two ochre ones, and looked between the two men. "Would you like the tour, or a meal?"

"I'd like a bath," Katara said. "Coal smoke isn't exactly great for the skin."

"What a wonderful idea," Iroh said, as they walked on. A rickshaw pulled by rhinos stood flanked by guards. One of them opened the door, and Iroh beckoned Katara inside. "Your room is close to a charming little hot spring. I'm sure you'll find it very relaxing." He held up a finger. "I must have some tea sent to your room!"

Beside him, Katara and Zuko shared a look and rolled their eyes.

≅

"It's very…red," Katara said, staring at the room before her. Iroh had excused himself to fetch the tea, and now Zuko stood alone with the Avatar's widow in what was once his childhood bedroom.

"What are these curtains for?" Katara asked, stepping closer to the bed. She reached for the gauzy red curtains. As her fingers traced the embroidery at their edge, bells tinkled softly.

"Security," Zuko said. "It's very hard to disturb the curtains without triggering those bells. I was trained to listen for them."

Katara turned. "This was your room?"

He nodded. "It's the safest in the residence."

"Is that why getting here felt like going through a maze?"

"Yes. It's also why you'll find one of these in your room." He pointed to a slender, dragon-shaped gold pipe along the joint where the wall met the ceiling. The dragon's mouth opened near the top of the door. "These are pneumatic pipes," he said. "Master firebenders can send heat from specific points in the palace to close or open doors as they see fit. If the Fire Lord thinks his children are in danger, he can lock them in."

Katara's brows furrowed. "Enemies can't get in, but you can't get out, either." She turned to him. "Isn't that a little dangerous?"

"We're firebenders. We're used to it."

Katara hugged her arms. "It would feel like being in prison," she said. She threw her hands up. "Not that I'm accusing you of imprisoning me!"

"I know you're not," Zuko said. He surveyed the room. "Everything should be in order. If it isn't, inform the women posted at your door." He cleared his throat. "My uncle has taken your arrival as an opportunity to host one of his state dinners," he said. "You are the guest of honor."

Katara's palm slapped her forehead. "Iroh…" She shook her head. "I really just wanted to rest, and…catch up." Her hand fell. "Your letter said the situation in Tetsushi is dire. I'm going to need all of my energy for the trip, and for whatever healing I can do. I don't think we have time for ceremony, no matter how good the food is."

For a moment, it was so utterly like the old days that Zuko forgot to breathe. Old feelings re-kindled and his blood thrummed in his ears. Everything that had attracted him to her -- that frosty pragmatism mingled with unfailing compassion -- was still there, years later, after marriage and widowhood and reconstruction and everything he'd assumed would keep them apart. It stung him like one of his sister's betrayals, like life laughing at him all over again.

"Agreed," he said. "But Uncle reminded me that the people have never had a chance to properly show their gratitude."

Katara frowned. "I didn't ask for their gratitude. I was happy just to be alive."

Zuko nodded. "I know. But you helped end a war that brought Fire Nation soldiers home. You run an orphanage that takes in the firebenders that those soldiers left behind in the towns they pillaged. That gives them hope." He looked at the floor. "And you are the Av…Aang's widow. You were closest to him. That counts for something."

She nodded, and took a step closer. "I thanked you for all of the donations," she said. "I mean, sometimes my messages must have come late because things at the orphanage get so busy, but-"

"I received them."

"Oh." She swallowed. "I guess being Fire Lord is busy, too."

"Yes. It is." He figured that now was as good a time as any to tell her. "I won't be making the trip to Tetsushi with you. I have commitments here."

Surprise wrote itself all over her face. "You won't?"

"Uncle will go with you. I can personally attest to the quality of his companionship on seafaring journeys." And if I went with you, this feeling would eat me alive as surely as it did when we were younger. "My men are good, but he's the only one I trust to keep you safe. With him at your side, I can put my mind to rest and concentrate on my duties here."

She seemed to make up her mind about something. "Well then, I won't trouble you any further. I'll see you at dinner."

No longer as dense as he had been all those years ago and knowing that he had been deliberately callous, Zuko said: "Lady Ka-"

"It's just Katara, Zuko," she said. "You've called me that since I married Aang. And in case you didn't know, we're no longer married." She fingered the necklace at her throat, and for the first time, Zuko noticed that the pendant the airbender had carved for her had been replaced by the one Zuko had carried so long ago -- her birthright.

"Your necklace," he said, automatically reaching for it and withdrawing his hand when he realized he had no right. Fire Lords treat everything as though it is already theirs for the taking. Stop. "I'm sorry."

"Twice in one day," she said. "You must be going for a record." Zuko tried not to let his disappointment show, but she said: "Zuko, I'm just teasing." She reached behind her neck and undid the necklace. She held it out for him to take. "Have a look. The two of you have obviously missed each other."

He grasped the necklace. The ribbon was new blue suede, but the pendant remained as smooth and cool to the touch as he remembered. It glimmered as he tilted it in the light, revealing hidden colors. That was one of his favorite features of the stone -- the way it looked one color when faced directly, but when turned even just a little, veins of light appeared and the whole structure changed.

"Why do you call me Lady Katara?" she asked in a quiet voice. "You didn't do that before. And I don't call you Fire Lord Zuko. Do you want me to?"

His thumb idly traced the patterns that Master Pakku had carved. Katara had told him the story -- or rather, she had told it to Toph and Iroh one evening, and he had overheard. His uncle had commented that Pakku had good taste.

"No, I don't," Zuko said. "You're not one of my subjects. There's no reason for you to call me Fire Lord."

"So why do you call me Lady Katara?"

"Because it is the highest title for women we have," he said. "If my sister had stolen Ozai's throne, her ministers would have called her Lady Azula."

She folded her arms. "But I don't rule a country."

Zuko's thumb skimmed the surface of the stone."True," he said, "but it's how I was raised to show respect."

Again, she stepped closer. "Can't we just be friends?" Her fingers folded tightly. "If we're supposed to be equals, can't you treat me like one instead of imposing a double-standard?"

His face rose, and she held up one finger. "I know you respect me," she said, effectively pre-empting him. "I respect you, too. You know that. But that doesn't mean you have to be so formal all the time." Her head tilted. "We used to travel together, remember? You used to eat my cooking and warm my bathwater."

Why can I never refuse her, when she gets that look on her face? "I know," he said, "but I was never… You didn't… Not all of you thought…" He sighed. Even when he had tried explaining this feeling to his uncle in the past, it proved difficult. "Aang called your group a family. I was never a part of it."

Her mouth opened and made an "O" of sympathy. His guts twisted. He felt a little sick -- she pitied him. He had merely meant to clarify things, to say that he had known all along that he wasn't trusted or valued like the others, and that he understood why. Instead, he'd sounded like the angst-ridden teenager he'd been at the start of his quest. Maybe you two girls should braid each other's hair, next, said a voice in his mind that sounded disturbingly similar to Mai's. "Stop looking so sorry," he said. "I only meant-"

"Oh, Zuko," Katara said, and unbidden her arms encircled him, her cheek firmly planted on his chest. "You never stopped being part of our family."

Tentatively, his arms closed around her. Up close, he could feel all the curves he'd been curious about in younger days. They were more pronounced, now, womanly. He sighed and closed his eyes. "You're too generous," he said. "You always have been."

She squeezed him tighter, and his heart skipped. "A crowded fire means one cold man," she said.

"Is that an Air Nomad saying?"

"No," Katara said. "It's one hundred-percent pure Water Tribe wisdom." She pulled away to look at him. "It means that every family has someone who doesn't fit in quite the way they'd like to. Someone always gets pushed to the edge. That's the way Ozai treated you, isn't it? Of course you thought we'd do the same."

And why not? The only way to truly prove myself was to kill Ozai. Otherwise, you could never be sure. He saw Katara bite her lower lip. "Is it in really poor taste if I tell you how glad I am that your father is gone?" she asked.

His good eyebrow arched. "Katara, I took his head off his shoulders myself."

She grinned. "See? It's not so hard. No need for Lady-this or Fire Lord-that."

He rolled his eyes. "You may have converted me, but expect no change from my ministers. We will be Fire Lord Zuko and Lady Katara for the evening. I'm to escort you to dinner, and referring to you as anything less than Lady would be an insult to us both."

"Speaking of insulting, I should really have that bath," Katara said, taking a step

back. Her lips quirked. "I've gone and gotten my dirty peasant smell all over you, Fire Lord Good luck getting that out."

"You smell like ashes and the sea, like the Fire Navy," he said, before he could stop himself. "Is there something wrong with that?"

"Me? Insult the Fire Navy? Never."

"If you're going to be sarcastic, I have many duties that need fulfilling," he said, a smile tugging at his mouth's corners.

"You'd rather push paper than spend time with me," Katara said, her hand flying to her heart and her voice achieving melodramatic shrillness. "I'm crushed!"

"Clearly, you find pools of water more interesting than my company. I hope you and the bar of soap have lots to talk about." He could no longer restrain his smile. "Do dirty peasants even use soap?"

Katara launched herself at him, her hands flying, and he let her gently spar him all the way to the door. It wasn't until he was halfway down the hall that he realized he'd pocketed the necklace, and that it was too late to return it -- only a fool disturbed a waterbending master during her bath, after all.

≅

Hours later, Zuko stood behind her, fiddling with the necklace's clasp. "Nephew, they're about to start," Iroh said.

"I'm their Lord, and they cannot start without me," Zuko said, finally hooking the clasp shut. As though to prove him wrong, drums thundered outside the palace and he and Katara needed to hurry from their hiding place behind a black marble pillar. Iroh and a retinue of his personal guards preceded them. They emerged from the shadows to a plaza ablaze with torches and crowded with spectators. Fireworks raced skyward, exploding in brilliant reds and blues, briefly obscuring the moon and stars.

"What is this?" Katara asked under her breath.

"Your reception," Zuko answered.

"This is too much."

"This is nothing. Wait."

The drums quieted. Iroh announced his nephew, and Zuko stepped forward. The legions of his people bowed at the waist, and Zuko bowed in turn. They rose together, and he said: "Years ago, I had the honor of traveling with Lady Katara of the Southern Water Tribe. Then, she was simply Katara. Now, she is the Bloodbender, a master waterbender and consummate healer." Cheers rose almost immediately, and he waved them away. "When eulogizing her husband, I remarked that the strength of the Avatar and his companions was their trust in one another's abilities. Once, I asked my friends to help me overthrow Ozai and end the hundred-year war." Another cheer rose. Again, he dismissed it. "The time has returned for me to rely on my friends and their talents. I have summoned Lady Katara to assist with the investigation into the sickness at Tetsushi. I have no doubt that with her on our side we can rid our refineries of illness."

Whispers coursed throughout the crowd, and Zuko raised his hands. "Do not be afraid! It is tempting to think that because I have summoned such a powerful woman, the crisis is cause for despair. But it is not. I have asked Lady Katara's aid because she served the Avatar as healer before becoming his wife." He swallowed. "My people deserve the best, and I intend to give it to them." Applause rippled across the crowd. Zuko stepped back. He gestured for Katara to step forward.

Her face betraying her nervousness, Katara took one step. Row by row, the assembled citizens quietly fell to their knees, their foreheads touching the stones at their feet. Silence reigned, and for a moment there was only the crackle and spit of torches. He watched Katara take a deep breath, and her palms come out. He recognized the waterbending form and the small hairs on his neck prickled as she brought her hands up as though raising a great wave. The ranks of his people stood and their voices climbed to a deafening pitch. They stamped their feet and the earth rumbled. It reverberated up through the steps of his palace and into his feet. Wind came up and her voluminous sleeves of palest blue silk snapped and waved behind her. She held the crowd that way for a moment, tense and loud, before finally loosening her wrists, signaling them to be quiet.

"It is good to see that the Avatar's peace is alive and well in the Fire Nation," she said in a clear voice. "Aang would be proud to see you today, taking control of your destiny and accepting the responsibilities of a just co-existence. The Fire Nation, the Water Tribe, and the Earth Kingdom share that burden. At times, international compromise seems difficult or even unnecessary. But believe me when I say that compromise and cooperation is the heart of every family, and that the family is the core of a nation."

And as though she had recited a magic spell, the crowd erupted into screams and shouts. Fireworks shrieked into the night sky. Katara took her leave, bowing as she did so. "What did I say?" she asked after rejoining Iroh and Zuko.

"You told them the importance of family," Iroh said. "They must think you are here to wed."

A pause, then in unison: "What?"

≅

"And how fare your orphans, Lady Katara?" asked the Minister of the Interior. "I have heard you are training firebenders."

Katara laid down her chopsticks. "I personally only train them a little," she said. "Fire Lord Zuko left a garrison to assist me in their education."

"But if you have firebenders, why not send them here?"

She smiled pleasantly. "I wasn't aware that they were so welcome," she said. "When Fire Nation soldiers raped women in the Earth Kingdom, they abandoned both the women and their babies. Those children were outsiders inside their own communities -- children of the enemy, according to some. Firebenders or not, Aang and I took them in because no one came to claim them."

So much for diplomacy, Zuko thought, carefully chewing a piece of grilled eel. The Interior minister's wife sniffed and said: "Surely such a topic is not appropriate dinner conversation."

"I'm sorry," Katara said. "Am I putting you off your food?"

"Nothing could be further from the truth," Iroh said quickly. "Your candor is most refreshing. This is a new era for the Fire Nation, one in which we must face harsh truths. Isn't that right, Lord Zuko?"

Zuko dabbed at his mouth with a napkin. Folding it, he smoothed it across his lap. "Quite so," he said. "My reign began with several uncomfortable revelations." He gave the Interior minister a look. "It's easy to blame faceless soldiers for their barbaric behavior. It is immeasurably difficult to look one's father in the eye and know he murdered your mother."

Silence descended over the table. The assembled ministers and their spouses looked pointedly at their food. Clearing her throat, Katara held up her arms to admire the gleaming fabric adorning them. "Speaking of dirty laundry, where did you find this beautiful kimono, General Iroh?"

Iroh chuckled, and then his face took on a more serious aspect. "It was my wife Ku Mei's, Lady Katara," he said. "It is perhaps a little old-fashioned for a woman of your youth."

"On the contrary, I enjoy it very much. I'm surprised your wife had a kimono in Water Tribe colors."

"Ku Mei was the heiress to a merchant vessel empire, and grew up on the seashore," Iroh said. "Blue was her favorite."

"I'm sorry I was never able to meet her," Katara said.

Iroh took a sip of liquor. "She would have liked you, I'm sure. But she died before you were born."

Katara's mouth turned downward. "My condolences," she said quietly.

"Nonsense," Iroh said. "When Ku Mei died, she left me a great gift -- my son Lu Ten." He gestured expansively around the table. "Many of the people seated here lost family members in the war. How many of them can say that they were able to sit with their loved ones at their passing, the way I did with my wife and son? You had no chance to bid farewell to your mother and father, Lady Katara. Compared to that, my time spent with Ku Mei and Lu Ten was a luxury."

The dinner guests remained respectfully silent at the memory of Ku Mei and Lu Ten. If things had gone differently, Zuko reflected, it would have been Lu Ten on the throne, if not Iroh himself. It was an odd thought -- Iroh almost never mentioned either his wife or his child, and so Zuko rarely considered them. It was strange to think that the boy of whom he had only hazy recollections could have been Fire Lord. It was even stranger that Iroh should speak of him in public.

Katara turned to Zuko, her eyes bright and wet. "You didn't tell me that your uncle was also an alchemist," she said. "He can turn lead into gold, and tragedy into treasure."

Zuko smiled. "May all Fire Lords be lucky enough to have men of such caliber at their service."

"Zuko, you're embarrassing me," Iroh said. "And this talk of tragedy does nothing for our guests' appetite." He clapped his hands. "Musicians! Something to brighten the mood!"

The Fire Navy Players struck up a pleasant rendition of "Girl Dancing at Spring Festival," and Zuko took up his eel. He saw Katara blink away tears before taking a measured bite of her rice. Eyes narrowing, he noted the presence of several pairs of eyes on the two of them. Was his uncle right? Katara was Aang's widow -- did his ministers think him so arrogant as to take the Avatar's place? Maybe they think you're only worthy of his leftovers, said his sister's specter, from a shadowy corner of his worst memories.

Not, he reflected later when he was alone in his quarters, that marriage to Katara would be a bad thing. His old feelings aside -- and they were easier to push away when he could not see her, or hear her laughter ringing down the halls of his residence -- he would have preferred her over a stranger. Iroh's marriage to Ku Mei was successful in no small part due to his uncle's love for women in general, and his ability to make them feel special. Most others were not so lucky in their political marriages. Zuko had a feeling he would be no different. His fumbling, coarse experiences years ago with Mai in Ba Sing Se did nothing to encourage his confidence. What attracted the women around him had nothing to do with him as a person and everything to do with his lineage -- a lineage he considered the worst strike against him. Privately, he suspected any woman who desired to carry on Ozai and Azula's bloodline of madness herself.

Perhaps I could adopt one of Katara's orphans, he thought, and rolled over for sleep.