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

Disclaimer: ATLA is the property of Nickelodeon, not me. No profit is made by this story.

Rating: T for Teen

It was fully dark before they reached Tetsushi by rhino. Katara did well, but when she slid off the komodo-rhino she winced and stretched her lower back. "Now I remember why I never liked those."

"They're better in the mountains than mongoose-dragons," Zuko said. He frowned. "Where is everyone?"

The tiny town of Tetsushi, its refinery tower looming in the distance and its blunt, toothy peaks shadowing the wood-and-paper homes, seemed more the setting of a ghost story than an actual community. Only a few homes had any light. An acrid stench rose in the air, and a fine coating of ash seemed to rest on every surface. Zuko lifted his foot and saw the pattern his boot made in the powdery gray substance. "They're burning the bodies close by," he said. He turned to his men. "Fan out," he said. "Find out why no one has come to meet us."

A few left while the others formed a loose, defensive perimeter around Katara and Zuko. For a moment, he wondered if this was the trap. Were there archers in the dark forests surrounding them? Katara stepped forward. She squinted at the empty verandas and lonely lanterns. "I'm not sure there's a town to save here, Zuko," she said. She put her hands to her hips. "But I am sure it's the water."

He leaned closer to her. "How can you be sure?"

She pointed to a darkened house. "Do you see that man there?"

Squinting, Zuko did in fact see someone. The man had slumped across his front porch, one arm pillowing his head and the other hand curled around an earthenware jug. "You mean the drunkard?"

"Exactly," Katara said. "He's obviously not drinking the water, and look -- he's fine."

"Except for the debauchery, you mean," Zuko said. "You there! Wake up!"

"Oh, let him sleep it off."

One of the guards turned. "Shall I wake him, my Lord?"

Zuko had no chance to answer. A young woman carrying an infant in a sling came walking quickly to the open square where Zuko and Katara waited. She looked worn and thin. The skin on her skull seemed to have tightened, and large shadows hung under eyes. Upon seeing him, her eyes bugging when she took note of his scar -- his best identifying marker as Fire Lord -- she fell on her knees and let her forehead touch the ashy earth at their feet. "My Lord," she said from the ground. "We were not expecting you."

"You may rise," he said. As the young woman stabilized herself with one hand, Katara stepped forward and offered her a helpful arm. The other woman smiled gratefully until she noticed Katara's coloring and clothes. Her mouth fell open and she moved to bow again.

"No, no, there's no need for that," Katara said, holding her upright.

"You're the Avatar's widow," the young woman said in a hushed tone. "You're the Bloodbender."

Katara nodded, holding the woman's shoulders. "Yes, I am. And the Fire Lord and I are here to help you."

The woman stuck the first two knuckles of her right hand in her mouth, biting down on them. A moment later, her first sob escaped her and she collapsed against Katara. "Thank the spirits," she said. "I thought we were going to die, here. I thought no one cared."

"This Fire Lord isn't like the last one," Katara said. Her eyes met Zuko's as she stroked the other woman's hair. "He cares about his people. He would never let you die for no reason, if he could help it."

And hearing her say it took him back to that day in his father's war chamber, and to his mother's words that had inspired him to hold his ground. And he thought of how far he had come in the meantime, far enough to stand here as Fire Lord beside the world's most powerful waterbender with the war over and the Avatar been and gone. The magnitude of his responsibility struck him. Suddenly he felt very small. He took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. "Lady Katara is right," he said. "We have come to help."

Katara smiled at him over the woman's shoulder. "Let's get to work," she said.

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The woman's name was Su-Lin. She and her infant son Kurzu were in another village when the sickness took its largest bite from the populace. "The father was stranded here after the war," Su-Lin had explained. They now sat inside her humble home. Wooden children's toys were everywhere, and the house smelled of old, cured meat. Zuko had to restrain himself from tidying up. Su-Lin stared at the baby in her arms. "My mother wanted to meet her grandson…until she saw Kurzu's face."

"It's a darling face," Katara said. "Is your mother allergic to beauty?"

Su-Lin blushed and shook her head. "No," she said, "just to Water Tribe children."

"What?"

"It's hard to tell with things so dim like this -- I'm sorry there aren't more candles -- but Kurzu is darker than most Fire Nation children," Su-Lin said. "His father -- my husband -- was part of Hakoda's strike force."

"He was? Would I know him? Where is he?"

Su-Lin's face fell. "He's gone," she said. "We were just at his pyre."

"Oh. I'm so sorry." She mustered a brave smile. "I'm happy to see that some of the Southern Water Tribe has survived here in the Fire Nation, though. And such a beautiful example, too! Look at those eyelashes!" Her smile grew. "He's going to be a real heartbreaker."

Su-Lin looked at the floor. "You flatter me, my Lady." Her hand strayed to a betrothal necklace at her throat. Zuko thought it looked odd to see one carved from something as simple as bone. Then again, the Water Tribesman was probably a little lost in the Fire Nation. "If my husband could see me now, discussing our son with the Bloodbender and the Fire Lord… He was so proud of your contribution to the war, my Lady."

"I did my best."

Su-Lin turned to Zuko. "Not that he didn't also appreciate your efforts, my Lord!"

"That's quite all right, Su-Lin," he said. "Can you tell us where the refinery overseer is?"

"He doesn't live in town, my Lord. He lives down at the port."

Zuko nodded. "And the foreman?"

"Gone, my Lord. I heard his two little girls died, and he went into the forest."

Zuko ran a hand over his face. "Are there any elders left? What about the doctors? Where are the sick being treated?"

Su-Lin blinked. "The doctors are all dead, my Lord," she said. "They were old. The elderly and the children died first." She held her son a little closer. "My husband said it would be a good time for Kurzu and me to leave, with all the children so sick," she said. "My mother wanted to see us, after all… I had no idea he was even sick when he sent us away…" Her voice started to crumble, and she buried her face in her child's blanket. "I'm sure he was just protecting me. I'm sure he knew he was sick, but he didn't want me to see…"

Katara wrapped one arm around her, and Su-Lin slumped against the waterbender gratefully. The baby began to fuss, and Katara rescued it from Su-Lin's tired arms. "You go lie down, Su-Lin," she said. "I'll look after Kurzu. I think I can get him down."

Looking embarrassed, Su-Lin nodded, and crept to one corner of the room where a futon lay unrolled. Katara stood and walked out of the tiny house to stand in the night outside. Zuko followed. Guards stood a pace away, their torches the brightest light in town. And beyond, standing in a silent ring, were the last remaining citizens of Tetsushi who could stand and greet the Fire Lord and the Bloodbender. They looked defeated. Their eyes were sunken and they clutched bellies that must have roiled with nausea. With painful slowness, they bowed or knelt. Zuko risked a quick glance at Katara and the child she bounced on her hip. Katara gave him the slightest nod. Taking a deep breath, Zuko raised his arms.

"Rise, people of Tetsushi," he said. "We have been a long time in coming, but Lady Katara of the Southern Water Tribe and I are here to help you."

"My Lord," he heard some of them whisper. "My Lady." They stood and their eyes found Katara. She hoisted Kurzu in her arms. She stepped forward.

"I am not sure what the Fire Lord's men have told you," she said clearly. "But I advise that you all begin boiling water before drinking it, cooking with it, or bathing in it. That means no more bathing in the river. I suspect that the river's water is poisoned somehow. Until we know more, please boil the water."

The citizens whispered to one another. Gradually, an older man was pushed to the front of the group. He bowed. "Begging your pardon, my Lady," he said, "but we're on our last legs. We just can't carry that much water to and fro."

Katara smiled. "Of course not," she said. "That's what the Fire Lord's men are for."

The assembled guards stiffened down to the last man. Katara may have been the Avatar's widow, but they took orders from one person: the Fire Lord. Silently fuming, Zuko cleared his throat and said: "Lady Katara is absolutely right. We have come to help, and that includes…" menial labor, servile work, chores "…the work this illness has robbed you of the ability to do."

He thought he heard a snort from the men, but made no mention of it. Instead, he concentrated on the beaming faces in the crowd. Nodding, Katara continued: "Does this town have a fire temple?"

"A very small one, my Lady," the older man said. "No sages have lived there in quite some time. It's a bit…" His eyes shifted nervously to Zuko, and Zuko saw him make the decision to be truthful. "Decrepit," he said.

"That's fine," Katara said. "Starting tomorrow, I will begin seeing patients there."

A sigh of relief rippled through the crowd. Zuko saw their eyes take on a hopeful glint. For the first time, he understood the immense pressure Katara had put herself under: if she couldn't help these people, it meant her reputation as the Bloodbender would be tarnished. It was worse than disappointing them -- they would die. Wondering how it had ever come to this -- and suspecting that much of it had to do with his delay, a delay caused by his selfish desire for Katara's help -- he dismissed them. They walked straighter as they left, casting glances backward. When the last one had disappeared, Zuko re-entered the house. His mouth opened to speak, but Katara held one finger up.

"Kurzu's asleep, again," she said under her breath. "Can you watch him? I have to go."

Me? Watch him? Are you insane? "Go where?"

"The fire temple," she said. "I have to clean it up."

"I thought your new domestic servants were good for that job. When they're not busy guarding the Fire Lord, that is."

Her eyebrows rose. "You're not begrudging your own people some assistance in their hour of need, are you?"

He put his hands up, placating. "Far from it."

"That's what I thought." She laid the baby beside Su-Lin. "Just keep your eye on him. I have to bring a few things to the temple."

Zuko stepped back. "You watch him."

"Why? Because I'm a woman?"

"Because I'll fail miserably," Zuko said. "He'll wake up. She'll wake up." Disaster will ensue.

Her eyebrow arched. "I'm sure I don't have to lecture the Blue Spirit on the use of stealth," she said. "And if the Avatar himself changed diapers by the basketful, then you can watch a baby for two minutes."

The idea of Aang elbow-deep in shit was both hilarious and mortifying, a fact Zuko attributed to the late hour. And while he stood there poleaxed by the mental image, Katara left the house. Zuko stared at Kuzu's bald head and thought of Aang. Wherever you are, Avatar, I have a feeling you're laughing at me.

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