AN: *slinks in in utter shame* It was Lita the Storyteller's birthday like… two weeks ago. But because of my vacationing and my bad luck in fanfic searching I only got to write this today. Lita, I am so, so, so sorry this is so late. And I'm even more sorry that it's so crappy. Again this was written now while I'm half asleep and unfed after a day of riding in the car. If I was ashamed about Swimming then this one… I want to die a thousand deaths. I promise, promise, promise I'll edit it ASAP and try and salvage some of it. And I'll make it up to you at Christmas time. (Big whoop, I know but at least it's something?)

And at Christmas you'll actually get to choose the theme of your gift fic. This one I'm thrusting on you again because it came to me and… Yeah. Sorry about that. I've always loved Disney but my love has been taken to completely new heights with the movie Tangled. I swear I've watched it at least ten times. On my life. And somehow I have the feeling that you mentioned somewhere that you liked the movie too. Or maybe I'm just going crazy. Anyway, you can probably guess what spawned the idea behind this one.

Once again I promise I'll fix ASAP. Happy Birthday, sorry I'm so late, please don't hate me and buy another donkey ;)

Disclaimer: Avatar is Bryke's, Tangled is Disney's, this piece of fail unfortunately is being shoved at Lita the Storyteller.

Exchange

She'd been so stupid. The motherly urge in her had been so great it had overpowered her common sense and the warnings of her friends. She should never have gone alone with only one small pouch of water. She should have stayed with Aang and the others in the actual village instead of trying to be the heroine once again. The village was small and rural and the mixture of races within it and the tension their diversity caused was the reason the Avatar and the Firelord had journeyed to it. She had heard of the plight within the village as well as the struggling little tribe that lived in the caves nearby and she had insisted that she come along. She could heal them, she'd said. She wanted to help.

And that's why she'd set out towards the tribe that morning, despite Aang's words of caution. She didn't have the patience to wait for a few more days until Aang and Zuko were done with their negotiations so they could go with her. She wanted to heal the injured and sick in that little tribe right away. She hadn't expected the chief of the tribe to be so... so...

Evil. That was about the only way to describe him.

The big, hulking man had seemed like the strong and silent type when she'd first entered his village. He seemed to hold his twenty-man tribe in place with a calm respect. His interest in her healing abilities had seemed like innocent intrigue and she had even smiled in secret pride. And when he'd led her away from the first cave to a place she knew she would not get away from without his help again she hadn't even been the least bit suspicious. She had spent the day in the cave playing with the children without a care in the world. And then she had tried to leave. His order to capture her was followed so swiftly she barely had time to register what he was saying. And she realized that he was strong and menacing and that his people only seemed to respect him because they were scared out of their wits. Some of the mothers shot her apologetic looks over their shoulders as they fled as soon as the peaceful façade shattered.

She'd tried to fight back but her water had been used on healing his people and her physical strength was no match for his four strong guards. His smile had seemed more like a sneer; it reminded her almost at once of Zhou. And his courtesy only spanned far enough to give her some free reign of her arms and legs as she lay chained to the wall as well as an explanation to his actions. He was going to use her. He was going to send his men out so he could take over other little villages and build his empire. His plan was so obvious and clichéd she wanted to laugh. She didn't, though, because the metal of the chain was biting into her skin and she had to keep her captor happy until she could find a way to escape. She came in post-war. He would make her heal his wounded soldiers so they could enforce his rule and then move on to the next unsuspecting place.

The more she screamed at him that she would not the more determined he became that she would. And she had the sinking feeling that he was right; she would not be able to sit around with wounded people surrounding her and do nothing. She was a healer as well as a warrior. That need to help people was the reason she'd gotten into the mess in the first place, after all. But even as she realized her captor was right she refused to let him know it. She would fight him with every last breath in her body. She was Master Katara of the Southern Water Tribe, teacher and girlfriend of the Avatar. She would make him pay, one day, for what he'd done and what he planned to do.

But her fighting spirit didn't last long. Soon she was becoming pacified and even drowsy. When she began nodding off even in the uncomfortable chained position she found herself in she knew something was up. Gathering her wits about her she critically examined the situation. She was still in one of the front caves of the bunch, chained a mere foot or so from the mouth of the cave. The place was bare of everything except dry, crumbling rock and a single fire that the chief lounged behind. And then she spied some greenery, hanging in a basket near the opening of the cave. It was smoking and it didn't take her long to realize that it was the cause of her drowsiness. Cursing inwardly she twisted herself until she was less in its path and tried to control her breathing. She could not fall asleep.

After about an hour she felt herself succumbing to the fumes again. And as she began to drift off helplessly she heard a sound that made her hopeful and terrified all at once.

"Katara!"

Her name was called in a tone that was slightly exasperated an impatient. It came again, this time closer, and she could hear the accompanying footsteps heading towards her. Most of all, her name was called in the rough, deep voice of the Firelord. The hope she'd felt began to die as she again saw the smoking plant. Zuko would be caught unaware... She took a deep breath to call out a warning but rough hands covered her mouth. She struggled, shouldering and trying to bite, but her captor was firm.

"Where the heck are you?"

She'd known Zuko long enough to hear that the exasperation was more teasing than anything else. By her rough guess it would be close to sunset already and she'd promised to return by noon. Aang and Zuko had probably decided she'd gotten too engrossed again and Zuko had been chosen to go and drag her back to them before she became 'overcaring', as Sokka had dubbed it. He wouldn't be expecting an attack at all and with the sweet scent of the unknown plant...

In desperation she called out a warning to him, her cries well muffled by the big hands surrounding her mouth. As she tried to scream her warning again the other guards crept towards the entrance. Katara, the Master Waterbender, was suddenly very, very afraid. Zuko's shadow loomed before the opening and a moment later his body appeared, his face impassive as he peered inside. He froze as soon as he saw Katara, chained and in the arms of a large man, her eyes wide with terror. He had a second to register what he was seeing before he was attacked.

Firelord Zuko was no armature at fighting. His less-than-sheltered teenage years had made his skills great and his reflexes sharp. And it was thus that he gave his attackers a run for their money. But the chief was no fool. As soon as he realized Zuko could bend fire he doused the small one in front of him, eliminating one advantage. Zuko still held his own, cutting down the number of his assailants to two without slowing or showing any weakness. Eyes blazing and body working in every way imaginable, Katara began to believe he would rescue her. Then he stumbled, and she remembered the deceivingly sweet smell of the plant. Not even Zuko could fight off its power.

And then, suddenly, someone was yanking hard at her hair. The assault was so abrupt and so brutal that she screamed, the sound echoing across the cave as her mouth was uncovered. The Firebender heard it and whipped towards her at once, body alert and ready to help. The attacker closest to him lunged at once. Katara's eyes were automatically drawn to the man's assault: she watched his body ground itself and his arm launch forward. And she watched as his silver knife flashed through the air and then seemed to disappear. For a moment Katara couldn't understand where the weapon had gone. And then Zuko was crumpling and the knife had reappeared, this time coated with red.

Zuko had been stabbed.

Horrified, Katara watched the strong, proud Firelord almost writhe on the ground at the feet of the filthy, worthless savages. She saw Zuko attempt to carry on fighting but the man who had stabbed him quickly beat him to the ground again. When Zuko scarcely made a move to get up again Katara knew he'd been badly hurt. She barely heard the chief bark out orders to move her in case more people came looking. She kept straining against her bonds, ignoring the chafing, trying to reach her fallen friend. She woke up from her horrified stupor when her chains were unbolted from the wall and the men began to drag her to the back of the cave. Despite her weariness and the effects of the plant she put up the best fight she could, raging and yelling fit for at least three women. At first the chief took it in his stride but when she didn't tire and her yelling turned to swearing and the fire behind her blue eyes didn't extinguish at all he began to realize she would not let him take her.

"Stop fighting me, girl!" he snarled, taking over from his men and attempting to haul her out of the cave. Katara's reply was a few choice words that would have made Toph beam with pride. The chief refused to yield and just tugged harder, making Katara thrash wilder. "Stubborn girl! Stop it!"

"No!" she snarled back, her face alight with something akin to hatred. "I will never let you win. I'll keep fighting you until the day I die."

The chief snarled and tugged her harder, his expression causing his remaining three guards to drag their comrades out hastily to escape his wrath. One returned, skittering nervously on the sidelines, obviously understanding how his master got when he was mad. How Katara heard Zuko's moan over the guard's nervous stamping, the chief's swearing and the sounds of the struggle she would never know. But somehow she did and the sound sent ice into her veins. In that split second she thought up a plan. It was tricky and it was nowhere near perfect, but it would save him and right then that was all that mattered.

"Wait! Wait!" The chief didn't stop his relentless tugging and she snarled. "I'll make a deal!" The man finally stopped and she allowed herself to sink to her knees, hurting and out of breath. But her eyes did not waver from her captor's for a second. "I'll go with you," she told him in a low, even voice. "And I'll heal who you tell me to heal when you tell me to heal them. No fighting and no arguing. If you let me heal him." The chief's eyes narrowed and she hurried on. "Let me heal him, and I'll go with you willingly."

"No! Katara don't..."

Zuko's pained snarl came from behind her and she whipped her head around to find him attempting to raise himself up with no success and a lot of laboured breathing. The sight twisted her heart and hardened her resolve even more.

"I will," she told the chief, trying to keep the loathing she felt for him out of her voice. "I swear it to you."

The chief seemed to consider her words for a moment, his scowl still in place. Katara could almost see his mind mulling it all over and she wanted to scream as the seconds ticked by and he didn't move. Didn't he understand how much Zuko was hurting? Didn't he understand that when Firelord Zuko moaned like that it was very, very serious? Eventually, when she was sure she would snap in two at any minute, the chief made up his mind.

"Unchain her hands," the chief snapped at the remaining guard.

The guard scurried forward at once with the key and unhooked Katara's hands, being very careful to keep her feet bound. The chief grabbed her hands in a tight grip that was painful as her wrists had rubbed raw on the chains. She ignored the man and instead twisted around to watch the guard with Zuko. As she feared the other man was not gentle with the fallen Firelord and her insides clenched painfully every time she heard him hiss in pain.

Eventually, however, Zuko was chained to the same spot on the wall she had been tied to. What worried her the most was the way he slumped and barely fought as he was moved and tied up. Then the chief let her hands go and she scrambled to Zuko's side as fast as she could with her ankles still bound.

"Zuko. Zuko."

Frantically she ran her fingers over his hair as if to convince herself he was still there and still responsive. At her touch he looked up and tried to school his expression into a neutral one. His attempts were futile, though: she could still see the pain in his eyes and the very unnatural pale hue his skin had turned. Snatching the water the guard handed to her with a deathly glare she attempted to unscrew the cork of the skin with shaking fingers. The guard stepped closer, whether to help or to make sure she wasn't trying anything she wasn't sure. At his advance Zuko stiffened and reflexively tried to sit up. But his accent lasted only for a few seconds before he crumpled in on himself again, hissing and swearing out his pain.

Immediately forgetting the chief and his lackey Katara shuffled right up to him, her hands instantly reaching for him. She was going to turn him over – she knew he'd been stabbed from behind – but the sight of red stopped her in her tracks. With growing horror she parted his tunic to find that he was bleeding out the front as well: the knife had gone right through. Even her gentle actions made him his and wince, his bound hands curling into fists as close to the wound as they could get. Her hands snapped back and then tore the cork away from the skin.

"Shh." She was babbling and she knew it but her heart was aching and beating much too fast and she had to have a way to assure herself as well as him. "Shh it's okay. Zuko it's all going to be okay. I'm so sorry. Just hold on."

She drew out the water and coated her hands, slightly relieved when her hands started to glow at once despite their shaking. Trying to smile reassuringly she moved her hands towards the stain of blood that was growing by the minute. But as she got close Zuko twisted his body away with as much strength as he could.

"No. Katara, no." His voice was pained but as stubborn as ever.

"What are you doing?" He somehow never failed to make her utterly exasperated. "I need to heal you!"

"I'm not going to let you," he snarled back, trying hard to sound forceful but failing rather miserably.

"You'll die, you idiot!"

"And if you heal me? What then?" He winced again but barrelled on after taking a deep breath. "Aang's good but he'll take time to find you. And he might not make it in time."

Zuko's gold eyes bored into hers, stubborn and serious even as they became more glazed over in pain. Katara began to shake her head.

"No. I'm not going to let you do this. You were never a good martyr and I'm not going to let you have any practise." He started to protest but she glared at him, her eyes icy. "You're tied up. I'm going to do this." He stared back at her, chest beginning to heave with the effort of breathing. He was fading pretty fast, in more agony than he was letting on. Her panic increased and with it her resolve. "Listen..." Suddenly she was aware of how close she was to him. She swallowed hard. "Don't let Aang know exactly what happened. Don't... Don't let him know that I sold myself because..."

She broke off but both of them knew what the rest of her sentence would have been. Because I love you in a way that I can never love him. Her eyes began to well up with tears and she sniffed, trying to force them back. Zuko was still looking at her, slightly spaced out as his strength continued to wane. But his resolve stayed true and as she bent in to heal him again he managed to strain towards her to whisper in her ear.

"Katara. See if-" Zuko broke off to cough suddenly, his body spasming and his face twisting into a grimace that made Katara's tears spill over. Through gritted teeth he hissed at her, "Boot. Discreetly."

Making sure she kept her eyes on him she slid her one hand down to his boot and slowly looked inside. Her fingers touched something cold and smooth and she began to gently pull whatever it was towards her. Zuko played distraction by faking another cough. At least, Katara hoped he was faking. Before she could look down and see what had been in Zuko's boot his shackled left hand grabbed it from her, the clink of the chain hidden by Zuko's hacking. He looked at her again and she realized that what he was about to do was beyond desperate. Then something in his eyes changed and she felt her heart beat faster for a different reason entirely. She was not experienced in the ways of love but she understood that look and the feelings behind it. And she had enough self-respect not to assume the look and feelings were only because he was busy dying before her.

Zuko began to lean towards her and she hastily did the same, trying to put less strain on him and his injury. The chief growled out his impatience but both teens ignored him. And then, suddenly, Zuko was a mere half an inch from her. She breathed in his scent and couldn't conjure up any guilt, only memories and past feelings that had built to that moment. He moved his head to the side and she found her eyes closing reflexively.

"Fight," Zuko's voice whispered in her ear.

As the shock and surprise of his words made her eyes shoot open at once. It was only because of that that she saw the dagger shoot from Zuko's still-chained hand. The dagger's throw was wide but it still miraculously hit a mark, namely the guard's shoulder. The man howled in pain, drawing the chief's attention. The chief roared, angry and yelling for his other lackeys as Zuko slumped back with a sort of finality that made Katara's fear mount even more. And then, as the bleeding guard and the chief started towards them her instinct took over.

The water coating her hands became a weapon in less time than her attackers had to take a single step. And without knowing exactly how she was fighting, her survival instincts driving on her desperate attacks even as the amount of water in her control diminished by the second. She barely registered when another three men entered through the back of the cave; they were just more targets to hit. As she whipped and froze and speared she also prayed, begging any spirit who would listen that she would win. She didn't even have a twinge of guilt when she smashed the chief to the ground so hard she could hear the impact his body made as it the rock.

And then, miraculously, the battle was over. Only two remained conscious and they were anything but unscathed. Katara used the last of her water to freeze them to the floor, eyes spitting even as her body shook from sheer exhaustion.

"Give me the key to the chains," she spat.

The one frozen nearest to the chief obediently scrabbled around, finally managing to extract the desired object and throwing it at her feet. Katara's expression held no trace of thanks.

"Take your pathetic friends and your… thing"- she only just refrained from spitting at the chief- "and get out. If you come back, I will kill you."

The threat was, of course, empty. She had little strength left and no water. She was more helpless before them now than ever before. But the guards were naïve and frightened by her anger and her displayed skill. And so, whimpering their promises not to even think of returning, they dragged their own out through the back as quickly as they could. Katara waited until they were fully gone before she unlocked her ankles and Zuko's wrists. She threw the key aside in disgust and wobbled to her feet, moaning as pain shot through her legs.

Then she turned to Zuko himself and her heart returned to her throat. He was out cold, pale and getting weaker by the second. His blood pooled over his chest and under his back in a puddle of sick maroon. She tried to wake him but nothing came from her efforts. With shaking fingers she tore strips from her tunic to use as a makeshift bandage to ebb the flow. She began to sob as Zuko's blood seeped over her fingers and hands and her blurred vision made her task harder. Then she leapt to her aching feet and began searching desperately for any sort of water that she could use to heal him.

There was no water anywhere near her. There was no vegetation she could pull water from. And the air was dry thanks to the smouldering plant that was still making her drowsy. Frustrated she tore the basket down and snuffed out the foul plant, getting a faceful of it as she did. The world started spinning and she slipped to the floor, desperately trying to cling to consciousness. She couldn't leave Zuko; he desperately needed her. Finally she was able to drag herself up again and she headed back towards her fallen friend in misery. Shoulders heaving with the weight of the situation she began bending her sweat and tears, trying to get something – anything – to help Zuko. Her measly water substitute barely cleaned the wound. As though the entire world wanted to symbolise her despair the sun began to set as she realized the pittance she held in her hands would not help at all.

Katara had never felt so helpless. She was lost out in a cave in a strange, hostile land with a dying Zuko in the swiftly approaching darkness. She was tired and sore and would not be able to find her way back to Aang in time to be of any help to Zuko. And Aang would not come looking for her yet: he would assume her and Zuko had decided to stay instead of walking back in the dark. The Waterbender found herself stroking Zuko's forehead as misery washed over her in waves she wished were physical. He stirred at her touch, very faintly, twisting towards her and moaning at the slight movement.

"Shh. It's alright. We're alright." She wondered if she'd ever told a lie quite that big.

Her words, as deceitful as they were, calmed Zuko down and he continued to sleep fitfully, breathing laboured and body trembling. In the days when he had been the enemy Katara had envisioned him beaten once or twice. At that moment she would do anything to take those moments back, just in case they were the reason Zuko was dying before her right then. Finally she could take the sight of him no longer and she lurched towards the mouth of the cave.

Outside was growing steadily blacker as the last of the sun slipped towards the horizon and every direction seemed exactly the same to her eyes. She screamed for help at the top of her lungs even though every bit of her knew it was futile. In the midst of the situation and the darkness she felt like a little girl again and longed for Gran-Gran and her stories that could make anything better. She focused on watching the decent of the sun so she could keep her mind off of Zuko and the harsh sounds of his breathing. It was probably because of her situation and her tired state that the thought crossed her mind: It looks like the sky is bleeding too.

And with that thought came the whispering of a almost-forgotten tale that had first been spun many years ago to make her and Sokka fall asleep. Almost reflexively she said the words out loud as they played across her memory in Gran-Gran's solemn yet musical voice.

"When there's blood in the water and blood in the sky the Moon shall graciously answer your cry." Her eyes immediately began to search the rest of the sky, the remainder of the legend forgotten. She nearly sobbed in relief as she caught sight of the moon. It was barely there; a mere sliver in the sky. But she could still feel its powers. "Yue." She was sobbing again. "Yue, please. Please help me. Don't let him die. Please. I promise…." Katara took a shuddering breath, shuddering as she cried. "I promise if you heal him I will love him in the right way. Only platonically. Just please, please heal him."

Her shoulders heaved and the tears continued to fall but nothing else happened. Despondent, hopeless, aching and exhausted she stumbled back into the cave and lay down beside Zuko, burying her head in his shoulder. Sobbing apologies and pleas for him to stay with her she dropped into a fitful sleep. Her dreams were wild tangles of fantasy that quickly morphed into a horror. Gran-Gran's prized comb turned into a monster that chased her straight into Zuko's arms. He protected her for a while but then chains joined the comb and she had to flee to a cave. Zuko followed her and suddenly they were below Ba Sing Se again, green tinting everything around her. Zuko's scar was beneath her fingertips the texture surprising and somehow endearing and intoxicating. Then Azula was there again, wielding her lighting and her poisonous words. But this time it was Zuko who got shot, not Aang. And when she reached for her spirit water it was not there. Screaming she rushed towards him, pulling up water from the stream he was lying in. The water stayed still; it would not obey her. And Zuko would not move, no matter how she begged or pulled or cried.

Azula was suddenly next to her, grabbing her shoulders and spinning her around so she could see the blood red ceiling. Katara could feel Zuko's blood dripping onto her feet as she was held in place, horrified yet transfixed. And then Azula's taunting voice was in her ear. "When there's blood in the water and blood in the sky the useless Waterbender will watch Zuko die."

The Waterbender awoke with a start and a gasp, tears trickling down her face at the remains of the dream. She kept her eyes closed; she didn't want to see Zuko in that much pain. She refused to. Especially since she could still feel the splash of his blood against her bare feet. A second after she'd thought that she frowned and opened her eyes slowly. Zuko was beside her so the moisture she was feeling could not be his blood. Which meant that it had to be something else. Suddenly very alert she whipped upright and spun to the mouth of the cave. The sight that greeted her made her begin to sob all over again.

It was raining. Great big drops of water fell from the sky in torrents, splashing off the rocks and onto her. Gasping and crying she dove outside and began bending the rain frantically as though she was scared the falling water would suddenly vanish.

"Thank you, Yue. Thank you! Thank you!"

With as much water as she could possibly bend she returned to Zuko and began to heal him. She had adrenalin coursing through her veins and this staved off her exhaustion and allowed her to begin knitting the Firelord back together bit by bit. She could not repair all the damage but she could do enough to save him. And that was all that mattered.

Katara tossed the bloody water outside and sank forward until her head was cradled in Zuko's shoulder again. She doubted she had ever been more relieved or more thankful in her life. And her feelings grew when the man beside her stirred.

"'Tara? What…?"

"Shh, it's okay." She revelled in the knowledge that she was being truthful that time. "The tribe is gone. I healed you. Yue made it rain."

He took the information in slowly and silently, running tentative fingers over the wound he could still feel. He turned his eyes to hers and she nearly drowned in them.

"Thank you. For saving me."

Katara shut her eyes as his fingers gently stroked her cheek, tracing the tracks her tears had left. Her heart was thudding an uneven rhythm in her chest that had nothing to do with fear. Abruptly his fingers were gone again and she was in time to catch his grimace of pain. She bit her lip, her brows scrunching together in concern.

"I'm sorry I didn't get to do a better job. The wound was deep and old by the time I-"

"It's fine. I'm okay."

"Liar."

He gave her a weak smile that didn't add any colour back into his cheeks. "I will be okay."

"You have a lot of trust in my healing abilities." Spirits it felt good to joke around again, even if the jokes were very weak.

"I have a lot of trust in you." His eyes displayed his honesty.

To escape their power Katara carefully lay beside Zuko again, not missing his soft hiss of pain as he moved too suddenly. She rested her head against his shoulder and watched the rain. The silence stretched for so long she was sure he'd fallen asleep again.

"What did you promise them? The spirits. You must have given something in exchange for the rain." Katara's heart shattered into a million pieces and she squeezed her eyes shut against the sheer agony. She'd forgotten about her part in the bargain. "Katara?"

"I… I uhm… I promised them that nothing would change. I would make sure that… things… stayed the same as they are now."

She'd wanted to be as cryptic as possible to try and spare him but she felt the silence deepen and she knew he understood what she'd done. He said nothing more and the next she checked he'd fallen asleep, face troubled as his body pained. Silently Katara began to cry yet again. But her tears were different than before: this time they were the tears of someone who had truly lost the battle. She knew as she snuggled closer to him that it would be the first and last time he would ever remotely hold her.

The price she'd paid in exchange Zuko's life was a heavy one.