An angry, red moon hung low over the horizon, bathing the drifts of snow in an eerie red-orange light. Frigid, arctic gales howled through the neatly lined tents, resembling a row of soldiers. Inside, women and children slept huddled together for warmth in their fur-lined sleeping bags, oblivious to the secret meeting outside. All, except for one woman, Kilana, wife of Hakoda, who laid perfectly still in hopes of overhearing the warriors. She cast a quick glance over to her two slumbering children, satisfied with their soft, rhythmic breathing before moving closer to the entrance. There she quietly waited for the meeting to begin.
The fire burned low as the men gathered around it, listening to an old legend told by Chief Sangook, father of Kilana, grandfather of Sokka and Katara. Though bent by age, the old man's commanding presence remained, along with clear, blue eyes which sparkled with intelligence. Like a gnarled, old tree he stood before the glowing embers of the once raging fire, staring at each and everytribesmen in the eye. "For the last hundred years we have been fortunate not to have water benders from among us. We have been free to their wicked and twisted ways because of our watchfulness. Tonight, I have gathered you before the bloody moon, to remind you to remain ever vigilant, to exhort you in your efforts, to guide you to the truth."
The last embers were suddenly sparked to life by a violent gust of wind, startling those gathered around it. Sangook stared at the moon as if gathering inspiration for his tale. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath and began slowly. "You see, long ago, before the Age of Chaos, water bending used to be a respected tradition, a skill highly revered by all tribesman because of its usefulness. It was used to fish as well as fight, and our survival often depended on it. We were blessed with incredibly powerful benders, rumored to have been trained by the Avatar himself, and children were eagerly handed to these masters to train. And so a strong line of powerful benders thrived. Many times the Fire Nation and Earth Kingdom sent forces to try to occupy us, to try to steal our oil, and not once did they return to their native shores."
Loud cheers erupted from the group of men as they shook their fists in the air. The storyteller smiled and nodded, losing himself in the dusty lanes of his memory for a few moments before motioning to his men to pipe down and let him continue with his tale. "These benders were custodians of the seas, ensuring safe travels for those merchants and Water Tribe warriors who sailed their waters. It was the South Pole's golden age, but all golden ages have a cost. Every once in a while, on a moon much like this one, someone would go missing, never to be found. They were usually the most unsavory people in our clan, and we just assumed they banished themselves of their own volition, instead of aggrieving their families with more shame."
The bright fire light deformed, the chief's already contorted features, as a twinkle shone in his eye. "Slowly however, people began to notice things that would send shivers down their spines, placated only by reason… by knowing there were no such things as vampires." His voice trembled with such power on the last word. From the hiddden darkness of the tent, the woman sighed softly, nearly rolling her eyes to the back of her shaking head at her father's theatrics.
The younger men in the groups swallowed hard, their eyes darting around the circle as if half expecting a rotting corpse to jump out and ambush them. Fighting a smile of self satisfaction, Sangook continued. "In time however, one too many people started going missing. Tribesmen began noticing certain water benders did not age, hid from the sunlight or did not take their meals with the others. The villagers continued to silence their suspicions until one day..." The veteran storyteller paused dramatically and looked around the frightened faces of those gathered near. Dropping his voice to a raspy whisper he finished, "they found the oldest master feasting on the body of a young boy that had gone missing earlier that morning."
Chills ran down the eavesdropping woman's spine as she gripped the tent fabric tightly in her hands. Two dark blue eyes darted back to her sleeping children.
Mentally, the chief laughed when he heard the listeners simultaneously sucking in their breath, almost leaping out of their seats when one of the logs popped rather loudly.
"All chaos broke loose on that fateful day," the old man continued. "A small civil war ensued lasting only as long as the winter months of darkness followed. Three masters, one who was human and two who were vampires, took their students and fought against their sires, giving us non-benders a chance at survival. Not until the daylight months of summer did the tide turn. That was when those filthy creatures were slaughtered or exiled, along with any other bender – human or not." The warriors let out a small sigh of relief as their bodies relaxed, trying hard to mask the look of relief from their faces. They were fearless warriors after all.
"This is why we don't allow waterbenders among us. We must dispose of them the instant they are discovered, regardless of who they are. It is the only way for us to survive." This was the first time during the entire narrative that the storyteller spoke with true sincerity and it made the woman inside the tent shudder. "With Kirkut's passing, we now need a new enforcer, and we are gathered here tonight to pass the torch on to...Hakoda."
Two dark blue eyes grew wide in the darkness as the woman's heart stopped beating in her chest. Say no, Hakoda, say no!
From his parka, Sangook pulled out a small dagger with an ornate ivory handle. Cradling it gently in his hands, he raised it up to the moon muttering a silent prayer. Men stared in awe at the beauty and strength of the blade. A tall man rose from the group, walking towards the elder and knelt before him, receiving in his hands the dagger. "As the enforcer, your duty comes before you or your family. Do you understand the sacrifice it implies?"
Without hesitation Hakoda replied, "I do." The woman covered her mouth to keep her from crying out to her husband. No!
"Do you accept this great responsibility, my son? Will you carry out your duty, even if it means sacrificing those most dear to you?" Quietly Hakoda glanced back at his tent and thought of his wife and children.
"I do." His voice was quieter, but still strong. Hot tears fell from the corners of her eyes as she rocked back and forth, shaking her head in despair. This can't be happening.
"Then Hakoda my son, I name you the new tribe enforcer. In your hands lies our future." That was the last thing Kilana heard before she blacked out on the frozen ground.
-------------------------------------------------
Four torturous years later...
Everyone had seen it. Everyone. Whether or not they knew what they had seen, was a different story. It was an accident, but what if someone suspects Katara of bending ? A mortified Kilana slumped to her knees, defeated. It didn't matter that Katara's bending had saved her neighbor's stupid, reckless child from death, she was a bender and if anyone found out – she would be executed. Right now, her daughter was with her grandfather, recounting the story of how a snowdrift had "miraculously" risen from the ground, to break the boy's fall. Tui and La, let my father believe her, she pleaded with all her heart. I don't want to lose my little girl.
Heavy footfalls alerted her to the fact that a male was approaching her abode, so she hastily wiped her tear-stained face with the sleeve of her parka, in a vain attempt to mask her crying. A strained smile filled her lips, in a pathetic effort to hide the dread that flooded her heart.
"Kilana?" Her husband's deep, gentle voice put her on edge.
She was not one to keep secrets from her husband. They were after all childhood sweethearts and had been best friends before marrying, but that same love that Hakoda felt for his family, he felt for the tribe. The saddened wife knew that for her husband, the well-being of his tribe, overrode that of their children, and she was beginning to resent it.
"Yes Hakoda?" Her voice waivered a bit. He knows. Maybe, I should tell him. He's a good man – a great man, and a wonderful father...
"How long have you known?" He looked serious, but not angry. All color immediately drained from her face as she rushed up to him, roughly grabbing him by the shoulders. Hakoda though mildly taken aback by her reaction, gazed lovingly at his wife as he wrapped his arms around her waist. "It's not like you to keep something like this from me." A small grin crept onto his lips as he bent down to kiss her forehead.
Kilana looked away from him. Something's not right. He couldn't possibly know about Katara, could he? I have to find out. An innocent smile bloomed on her lips. "I have no idea what you're talking about..." Really, I don't, so spill.
"Sokka working on his first whalebone club, silly." His lips broke into a pleasant smile.
Sokka's working on a whalebone club? The mother felt her heart beat again. When did this happen? "I just didn't want to...ruin the surprise," she stammered. Smile and pretend, like you always do.
Reluctantly pulling away from his wife, Hakoda whispered in her ear, "Don't worry, I'll act surprised when he shows me."
"Right." She nodded. Both parents turned their head when they heard small footsteps crunching the snow outside their tent. A little girl walked in, looking relieved. Kilana smiled broadly and turned to Hakoda, – "Just pretend you don't know anything and everything will be fine."
Once her father left, mother and daughter felt at ease. No words were exchanged between them, and didn't need to be. Kilana held her daughter close, gently kissing the top of her hat. Thank you, Tui and La, she praised in silence. But that relief soon turned to sorrow as the small body in her arms began to sob, causing a swell of emotion from her. Tears ran down her face as she intoned the same plea of always. Tui and La, please, let her find a place to be where she is safe and can be herself, where she can bend. But like always, those prayers had remained unanswered and life for Kilana, felt like one great big, fat, fragile lie.
The strain of keeping her secret took a toll on mother and daughter as well as everyone else. The constant fear that she would lose her daughter to her husband was slowly consuming the love she felt for him, much like a flame consumes the very candle which gives it light. In her mind, the man who was once the love of her life, had been replaced by an unyielding would-be tyrant who would sacrifice his only daughter on the altar of duty if need be. One slip up like this one-and everything ends. She shuddered. As long as she doesn't water bend, nothing will change. Tui and La, please do not make me choose between my daughter and my husband – not yet.
Terrified that someone would find out about her freakish powers, Kilana forced isolation on her child, making sure she avoided all children her age. Blue eyes, once bright and curious, turned opaque and blank, tearing the mother's heart to pieces. Her once jovial daughter, was now quiet and somber, as though she carried some great, unseen weight on her tiny shoulders. Slowly, the little bender withdrew from the world. Sometimes, late at night, Kilana would hear muffled cries coming from Katara's sleeping bag which consumed her with a quiet rage at her impotence to improve her daughter's situation. She grew resentful that she lived in a place where her daughter couldn't be herself. But all of that changed the day a Fire Nation envoy arrived on a ship.
----
Katara ran around the vast wasteland that was her home, screaming at the top of her lungs at her brother. " You call yourself a hunter," she panted as her breath crystallized in the air. Sokka only furrowed his forehead, launching a gigantic snowball at his sister's head, missing by a mile.
A squeal of delight escaped her lips. "Your aim stinks too!" A pink tongue stuck out of her mouth as she wildly waved her arms. The young water tribe warrior growled, holding back the urge to throw his boomerang at his sister's fat head.
"I'm just...warming up." Came his annoyed reply. Why is she so fast? It's like she glides over the snow.
Katara rolled her eyes. He'd been warming up for the last half hour. "What's wrong Sokka, am I too fast for you?"
"No!" was his immediate reply as he broke into a run, but the truth was that she was too fast for him. The blue-eyed young man threw his arms in the air, in a sign of surrender, causing his baby sister to erupt into a victory dance. Playing hunter and seal with Sokka was-the last bit of happiness she had left.
The sun was setting, with the moon close on its heels. "Katara, it's getting late, we should go home."
Dread filled her little heart. "What Sokka, are you scared of the dark?"
The blue-eyed mini warrior scowled. "No!"
I got him. "Prove it. Let's play for five more minutes." Without waiting for a reply, Katara sprinted into the snow drifts, with her brother tailing closely, until they soon lost track of time and no longer knew where they were. Frantically the siblings began to look around, trying their best to find their way back home.
"Look Katara, it's going to be alright. Dad says I've got natural warrior instincts, so we'll just go..." Sokka paused for a moment as he furrowed his forehead and began to sniff the air.
"Sokka, now is not the time to act like you know what you're doing!" Katara looked like she was about to smack her brother upside his head, stopping in mid swing as, she too caught an odd stench. Both children looked at the darkening sky and saw black snow begin to fall.
"What the heck?" The older brother whispered, trying to hide his fear and confusion as an asphyxiating, burning smell, they did not recognize began to choke them. It singed their throat and irritated their eyes. They tried to get away from the smell, but found they were completely surrounded by it. Wandering aimlessly, the siblings tried to re-gain their bearings for what seemed like hours until they heard a deep, frightening rumbling, reminiscent of a cracking ice shelf. From childhood, all Water Tribe children had been taught to run away from that sound, for fear of falling into the deathly, frigid waters. But the faster they ran, the louder that sound seemed to get. Their legs were wobbly like seal blubber and their throats were on fire from the exertion, but it was all for naught, as their path was blocked by a monstrous, gray, steel ship, ramming into the ice shelf.
The siblings stopped dead in their tracks, eyes wide with fear, as they heard a loud creaking sound come from the ship. A large, gray mouth seemed to open before them, with several tall, dark figures, clad in red, gathered at the brow. Terror coursed through their veins as fast as poison from the white jade bush, having much the same effect. For an instant, the siblings froze, as if enchanted, until a cold southern gale broke the spell.
"Katara..."Sokka whispered, as he grabbed his little sister's hand, "run!" Both sped away from the ship, hoping to take cover behind a snow drift. We have to make it home to tell dad!
Sokka trudged through the snow with ease, expertly dodging the cracking ice, his stumbling charge in tow. The drifts aren't too far away now. A rush of adrenaline flowed through him at the thought. We must warn the village. "Come on Katara, we're almost there!" He spared a darting glance behind him and frowned.
Her short little legs tired quickly and she found herself being dragged, more than running. Spirits, make Sokka let go of my hand, Katara intoned. Without her bending, she couldn't keep up with her brother and with her bending, they'd be able to travel faster. "Sokka, let go of my hand, it's okay I can..."
Crack. Ice water muffled his panic-filled screams, violent gusts of wind whipping all around her body muted hers.
A group of three men and a teenager huddled on the brow, in a vain attempt at shielding themselves from the howling wind, black snow swirling in ominous, hypnotic patterns all around them. "Uncle, why are we here?" The golden-eyed adolescent asked looking around with obvious distaste.
"We need to inform the Southern Water Tribe that we'll be in their waters, Zuko." The old man in military dress uniform replied.
"But why? Their ships are pathetic, they're no match for us. Why do we need to bother with such backwards peasants?" Golden eyes narrowed as he strained to see a small blue figure in the distance.
"Because, nephew, they can be a thorn in our side. This is the home of the world's most powerful waterbenders and I doubt they'll take too kindly to our intrusion, unless we get their permission." The old man's eyes also seemed to linger on the same spot as the young man who had stopped listening to his uncle.
The adolescent seemed fixed on that area, when he heard a faint cry: "Sokka!"
If not for their well developed senses, the men on the ship would have never heard the young girl's cries. They descended from the brow, the youngest breaking into a run which ended the moment he sank, knee deep, into the dark snow. A low growl escaped from his lips as the frigid fetters around his legs became water. Snow from above and below. Who would want to live here! Muttering a low curse he continued walked through the snow, like a hot knife through butter. His uncle, the general, wasn't too far behind.
Frightened blue eyes, darted from her dying brother to the strange men brought by the black snow. She wanted to run, to get away from them, but she couldn't leave Sokka behind. As it was, he might not survive.
Throwing herself on her belly, she reached out to him, but he seemed to have no control over his limbs, the expression in his eyes was glazing over. Hot tears of desperation streamed down her cold cheeks. She wanted to scream, to command the water to return her brother to her, but instead, she remained motionless-like a statue. Mom says I shouldn't bend in front of people but...Hearing the men approach, she stood up with a determined look of concentration on her face. I'm sorry mom...The water danced as she moved slowly, controlling her breathing, pushing all the fear away...but I will not let Sokka die.
The leader of the party, and old Fire Nation general, stared in awe, as his men approached the small figure clad in blue. Slowly, a young boy wrapped in snakes of water emerged from behind the floating ice chunks. The snakes of water carried the boy onto solid ice as the little girl collapsed from exhaustion. He ordered his men to take both of them onto his ship, so that they could be given medical attention.
-----
Katara came to and found herself being carried up a steep metal brow by a surly, pasty-looking, boy. Really more of a young man, but she could care less as she found herself about to disappear into the dark, cavernous opening of the very ship they had tried to run away from. She could see one of the other men was carrying a still unconscious Sokka, from the corner of her eye. An earsplitting shriek erupted from her as she thrashed around violently. The boy practically threw her on the ground, he was so angry and startled. Like a spring she bounced back up and before he could fall into a fighting stance, she had elbowed him in the gut, shoving him to the floor as she ran towards her brother.
Golden eyes narrowed into tiny slits. Quickly he ran his hands over his ribs making sure none were broken before he got off the ground, but he wasn't fast enough. Two blue arms flailed, turning the falling snow into a barrage of tiny icicles she mercilessly hurled at Sokka's captors. Though they remained unfazed; this act-caught the attention of the older man in charge of the party. He stopped to look at his young attacker, but she seemed too busy charging on his nephew to notice him watching. Fire and ice clashed at the command of the children, neither of whom wanted to be the first to back down.
From the top of the ramp, he could easily see the conflict had become personal for his nephew. A broad grin spilled over his lips and he couldn't help but smile when the pale young man hurled two large fireballs at the waterbender. Silently he shook his head, Oh children today are so dramatic. I should probably put an end to this, though, before my nephew gets hurt.
The men in his party halted suddenly as the old general made his way toward the young girl. "We mean you no harm, little girl," the fatherly general called to her softly. But his kindness was met by a cold, blue glare and an ill-formed water whip, which barely missed his face.
He cautiously inched closer, as though he were approaching a dragon hatchling when one of his men yelled out, "Sir, the boy's heart has stopped beating!"
Katara ran towards her brother but was blocked by the older man. "I have a healer on board. Please, let us help your brother." The little waterbender tried to push him out of the way, failing miserably. She looked up to glare at him and immediately wished she hadn't. A pit opened in her stomach as she looked into his golden eyes, which seemed to draw her in. All she could do was quietly stare at him while a haze engulfed her. Almost involuntarily, her head nodded in agreement. The general waved his hand and the man carrying Sokka quickly disappeared from view.
Katara stood deathly still as her brother was taken away, her body incapable of responding to her commands. A single tear rolled down her cheek, as she tried to focus one last attack. Closing her eyes, she pictured the snow and willed it into a sharp icicle. With tremendous effort she raised her right hand and with a simple flick of the wrist it flew through the air.
Thwick. The sound of deadly contact was sickening.
A faint whisper escaped her lips as she collapsed on the floor, gasping for air in between violent coughing fits. The icicle intended for the general, had hit her instead. Zuko stared in strange fascination as the pool of her blood grew bigger. He knelt besides Katara, instantly knowing it was a mistake. The sweet aroma of fresh blood invaded his nostrils stoking a primal hunger in him.
Iroh narrowed his eyes at his nephew. "Zuko, grab the girl and take her to the infirmary." The surly, young man stared at his uncle, like he had received a command in a foreign language. "NOW!"
Immediately, general Iroh's nephew snapped into action, picking up the dying girl in his adolescent arms, quickly disappearing into the bowels of the ship. Terrified, blue eyes looked up into golden. Horrible gasping sounds came from her tiny mouth as she struggled to breathe. She's not much younger than Azula, he frowned as he willed his legs to run faster. The coughing fits continued until blood dribbled out of the corners of her mouth. Her skin once a rich, mocha color, was now tinged with blue. She doesn't have much time left. With whatever energy he had left, he sprinted wildly through the gauntlet of mechanical equipment used for navigation, getting the injured girl to the healer. Just hold on!
-----
Gently, he lowered her body on one of the examination tables. In one swift motion, he grabbed gauze jelly and bandages from the shelf as he attempted to cover the injury. His hands shook as he tried to apply the jelly around the wound. Cover the hole to make a seal, make sure you leave one side open, he repeated, pushing all thoughts of drinking the life giving fluid, far from his mind. He was trying to stick the gauze over the wound, like his uncle had taught him. Clumsy fingers to fumbled around trying to form a seal, failing miserably. Why won't you STICK! he wanted to scream at the top of his lungs. Bright red blood continued to flow freely, collecting into a pool all around her body. Its smell was even more cloying than he remembered. He tried to focus on the task at hand, but he found his lips uncontrollably drawn to the dying girl's wound. Quickly he pulled himself away, ashamed of his momentay loss of control. Someone else needs to do this.
"Lieutenant Ping!" he bellowed, "Lieutenant Ping, I need your help!"
"I'll be right there," the old healer answered absentmindedly as he continued wrapping the unconscious boy until he looked ready for the pyre.
Zuko cast an annoyed glance behind him only to see Ping busy himself with the hypothermic boy on the table while the apprentice was idly standing by. "Ing get over here!" The prince cried out.
The young man looked at him, pointed at the old healer and shook his head. "I have to watch my master."
Zuko was about to scream at the lazy oaf when the body before him lurched, gasping for air. The young girl was trying hard to stay alive. Clear blue eyes reflected the terror she felt at not being able to breathe. They seemed to cry out to him for help, but there was little else he could do. There's too much blood! Two pale fists banged against the cold metal table as he watched the girl transpire before his very eyes; helplessness consumed his soul. "Lieutenant PING!"
One last whimper escaped her lips before she stopped struggling. He stood there staring at the precious, life-giving fluid that continued pouring out of her. It's smell was inviting – hypnotizing really – which ruptured his thin veneer of self control. Without thinking, he lowered his head pressing his lips to her back. Delicious, warm, blood trickled down his throat as he maintained pressure on the wound. His lips felt the faint palpitations of her heart and he almost smiled, She's still alive.
Pulling away from her, his golden eyes stared at his bloodstained hands, feeling the warm, red fluid coagulate on his white skin. The Sanguine Trial...Father will kill me if he finds out! His stomach turned into a knot as he looked around him. Relief spread through his body – good, its only Ping and Ing, and they're too dumb to know what's going on – only to fill with tension again when he quietly stared at the girl lying on the cold, metal table. Roughly, he wiped his mouth clean of her blood with the back of his arm as he heard a slow shuffling approach him from behind.
"Oh dear." The old man muttered as he shook his head, frowning when he saw the puncture wound on her back. "I don't think I've ever seen anyone survive this sort of injury. The only person who can help her now is a waterbending healer." Quietly, he turned to the boy standing beside her table. "Her vital signs are fading fast and even if you create a seal, there's already too much blood in her lungs." Ping gently placed a gnarled, old hand on Zuko's shoulder. "There's nothing we can do for her your highness. I'm sorry." His wrinkly face looked sad, but his cloudy eyes remained indifferent.
Zuko shrugged off the lieutenant's hand, restraining the urge to wrap his bloodstained hands around his pencil neck. "Ing, fill the tub with water...five minutes ago!" He roared. She's a waterbender, maybe she can heal herself.
Immediately the seaman complied. Without rolling back his sleeves, the frantic prince stuck both arms in the tub, heating the fluid, melting the bits of ice floating on it before roughly grabbing the girl's body and tossing it in there. He could feel the eyes of Ping and his apprentice staring at him in bewilderment. "But your Highness – you'll kill the girl." Ping stammered.
"You said she was as good as dead, so I don't see the problem." The young prince's lips formed a tight line as he stared at the tub containing the girl.
A faint blue glow radiated from the girl's motionless body. A look of awe shone in the eyes of the men gathered there, dropping what they were doing to come stare at the moribund girl floating in the glowing tub. No one noticed an older gentleman walk in or a young Water Tribe warrior wake up from his slumber.
-------
Katara woke up to a din of voices with accents she had never heard before. They smelled like strong spices and heavy perfume, making her head ache. The world around her was blurry and her eyes were having a hard time adjusting to the dim light of the room. Slowly she made out the faint outline of a pair of golden eyes and the pale face of a rather handsome boy, hovering over her.
"Uncle, she's waking up" the boy called out.
Katara sat up with a start when she was hit with a wave of pain engulfing her head that made her throw up all over the blanket she was wrapped in. Beads of sweat rolled down her face as she continued regurgitating. A large wrinkled hand pulled her hair away from her face until the entire contents of her stomach had emptied out all over the floor.
"Wow. It's amazing how so much can come out of someone so small." The general's eyes disappeared behind a mountain of wrinkles as he smiled.
Blue eyes pleadingly looked into gold. " Where's my brother?" She looked around her, her stomach filling with lead when she did not see him. "Where's Sokka?"
"He's in the kitchen harassing my cook." Iroh deadpanned. "Apparently, the smell of roasted duck has miraculous healing properties."
Katara couldn't help but smile weakly. Yeah, that's Sokka alright. The general's laid-back demeanor put her at ease. Though still without strength, she apologized for her earlier attack and thanked him for saving her and her brother, but that apology did not extend to his nephew, which she still eyed suspiciously, like a mother would a naughty child.
Stupid peasant, the young prince thought to himself as he shrank under her scrutinizing glare. Why is she looking at me like that. He had to fight down the urge to either run out of the room, or throw a huge fireball at her head. We'll see if she looks at me the same way after I give her a pair of singed eyebrows! Pale hands began heating up when the door burst open. Never in his life had he been happier to see the healer and his apprentice.
"Sir, you called for us?" Ping and Ing panted in unison.
"Yes. I need you to prepare a sweet draught for the young lady here, Lt. Ping." The old man bowed and skilfully evaded the pool of vomit on the floor, secretly thanking Agni he didn't have to clean it up.
"Ing, you clean up this mess." General Iroh commanded. Ing stared into the pool at chunks that resembled partially digested seal jerky. A cold shudder ran through his body before grabbing cleaning utensils from one of the cupboards.
The prince smirked. Serves him right for not wanting to help that peasant. From the corner of his eye, Iroh recognized the look of self satisfaction on his nephew's face.
"Zuko...help him." Instantaneously, his smirk became a scowl at his uncle's command. All color drained from his face and he looked like he too was about to be sick.
The general carried Katara off the bed and took her to a different room where he warmed water for her and gave her a new set of red, silk robes. "Take as long as you need my dear. If you need anything, just tell the guard outside your door." The brunette nodded slowly, straining to smile.
She stumbled into the tub, near tears from the pain in her head. Every breath she took, made her feel as though rein-elk had kicked her in the chest. Almost as though by instinct, she felt the urge to submerge herself in the warm water. Slowly she felt her body relax as the pain let up a bit. If not for the need to breathe, Katara would have slept underwater.
Once the headache became tolerable, she completed her ablutions, clothing herself in the expensive looking robes. I wonder what these are made of, she mused as her small brown hand caressed the cool, smooth fabric. I don't think red is my color though. Tiny hands pulled silver streaks of water from her hair as she bended it dry. Slim fingers combed the thick, brown mane, framing her faceWanting to check her work, Katara looked for a mirror, but found none. I guess this will have to do, she sighed as she collected her bloodied clothes and rinsed them in the tub of water. A sinking feeling invaded her stomach when she put her index finger through the hole in the back of her robe. How did I survive?
Like a bolt of lightning ripping through the sky, all the neurons in her head seemed to fire at once. A shriek flew from her lips as she collapsed on the floor, clutching her head while she writhed in pain. She didn't hear the heavy footsteps of the old general, his nephew or any of the men who had stormed her room-nor did she care. All she wanted was for the stabbing pain to stop. It had rendered her incapable of any rational thought, so she didn't object when she was back in the arms of the pasty prince, being deposited on a soft surface.
Zuko cast a worried glance at the girl's thrashing body. For a brief moment,the world around him disappeared and all he could focus on was her suffering. Involuntarily, his pale, trembling hand reached for her, but became a fist the minute he remembered he wasn't alone. He muttered an audible curse as he stalked out of the room, avoiding Iroh's searching gaze.
The kindly old man sat on the edge of the mattress, held her close to him and whispered something in her ear as he tucked her into a nice warm bed. He stroked her hair as he spoke in a soothing tone, slowly calming her down until she fell asleep. His once jovial eyes looked grave as he left the sleeping child's room. Zuko, what did you do?
A tall man in a blue parka looked up at the menacing, storm-filled sky. Black clouds hid the sinister sanguine moon, whose light tinted the heavens red, and try as hard as he might, Hakoda could not hide the worried look upon his brow. "Kilana, have you seen Sokka and Katara?"
From a leather tent, a dark woman with chocolate colored hair emerged holding a spoon made out of bone. "They're not with you?"
The man grimly shook his head. Dark blue eyes filled with worry, as she dashed inside the tent, frantically looking for some torches. "I knew that black snow was an omen," her voice trembled. "I should have gone out to look for them sooner, but I thought they were with you." Tears poured from her sapphire colored eyes.
"They're probably playing hunter and seal. You know how much Katara likes that game. I'm sure they're on their way home," he said, mostly trying to reassure himself.
Kilana wiped the tears from her eyes as she pulled out several torches. "You're probably right, but round up Bato and the other men and go look for them." Hakoda quietly nodded as he took them from her hand. "And when you find them, make sure you give them this for me." The worried mother threw her arms around her loving husband, in a bear hug.
The Watertribe warrior made his way through the tents, peeking his head in each one, asking all of the men to grab their torches and help him look for his children. He didn't have to ask twice. Whenever someone got lost the tribe would mobilize immediately. Time was of the essence if they were to find them alive.
About twenty men formed a circle around the communal fire waiting for Hakoda to speak. The youngest amongst them huddled closest to the fire, speaking in hushed whispers as they clutched their whalebone clubs tightly. Hakoda raised his arms, and silence spread through the circle.
"Sokka and Katara are missing and we need to conduct a perimeter search before the storm picks up, however, if it hits early..." Spirits, bind the clouds and don't let my voice crack. "I want all of you to return here at once." The men looked surprised but nodded and lit their torches in the fire.
"Hey Hakoda," asked a young man with a torch and three scraggly whiskers scarcely passing themselves as a beard, "Do you think...well, the black snow...maybe it's...well you know...them?" As he said this his eyes darted all around him, as though he were expecting someone to spring up from the shadows.
A puzzled look, crossed Hakoda's face as he tried to make sense of the young man's rambling.
A portly, middle-aged man standing next to the concerned father looked around before speaking in a low voice. "What Kinto here is trying to say is, do you think they were taken by those things Chief Sangook likes to talk about when he's had too much sea prune sake?"
"I heard that, Kirkuk!" The middle-aged man cringed as a grumpy, old man yelled from across the circle. "They're called vampires and believe me, they are real."
Sokka's father looked somber and held the inquisitor's gaze. "No, I don't think so. But if it is, I'll be ready for him." He patted the scabbard where he kept the slaying blade.
------
Zuko returned to his room where he sat before an altar covered in candles. His eyes were tightly shut as he struggled to concentrate on his meditation. Feel the flame, feel its warmth, feel it...roasting me if father finds out I drank human blood. Honey colored eyes opened wide at the thought. Her headache seemed too intense. A sinking feeling invaded his stomach. What if I...he paused for a moment, cold shivers running down his spine. Impossible! I didn't even scrape her. He dropped his head into his hands. Never had he regretted anything more in his life. I just hope Uncle, doesn't figure it out.
His lament was cut short by a gentle tapping at the door. "Who is it?" he called out.
"Just me Zuko." A deep, dark despair enveloped him. "I just wanted to see how you were doing."
He knows. For an instant, he felt like pretending he wasn't there, but he had already called out to his uncle. "Um. Come in?" The door slowly opened revealing a stout old man. On his mouth he wore a pleasant grin, but the look in his eyes was cold and hard.
Quietly Iroh sat down next to his nephew, assuming a meditative position. Zuko waited on baited breath for his uncle to speak. The old man took a deep cleansing breath and released it.
"Zuko, I am proud of the way you handled yourself today." His eyes remained closed, but his tone was sincere. "I know today is a sanguine moon, but you restrained your impulses and saved the girl's life. I am proud of of your efforts." He inhaled and the flames nearly died.
Zuko swallowed hard. Here it comes.
He exhaled, bringing the flames to life, making them dance wildly on their wickers. "What I don't understand nephew, is how you saved her. How did you know she was a healer?" Iroh's eyes were now open, boring through the young man sitting beside him.
"I didn't." Zuko shrugged. "Ping said she was already dead, that only a waterbending healer could save her. She's a waterbender...I had nothing to lose."
Iroh seemed satisfied with his answer. "You know, there was a lot of blood all over the place. I was afraid some might have accidentally found its way into your mouth. You didn't taste any of it, did you?"
Zuko's heart turned to lead. "No uncle. I was careful not to taste her blood." Don't look at him, but don't act like your not trying to look at him. Why couldn't I be Azula right now.
"I know you know that drinking blood from a human before your Sanguine Trial is forbidden, but do you know why?" Zuko quietly shook his head, avoiding his uncle's interrogating gaze. "The reason why this is so, is because it creates an unbreakable bond between the hunted and the hunter."
Suddenly all the candles began to burn wildly. Iroh took a deep breath and looked sadly at his nephew. "When you drink their blood, you take a small part of the victim's mind and theirs becomes tainted by you. "
Zuko turned to his uncle. "So it's like turning someone?"
Iroh shook his head. "No. You have a different connection to those you turn; with the prey – you feel what they feel, see what they see." The old man's eyes had a far away look to them, "Sometimes, you feel their very heart beat within your breast." A wrinkled hand reached out, lightly tapping the young man's chest. Zuko could have sworn his uncle's eyes glistened with unshed tears. "You know what it's like to be human – through them."
"And the prey?" Zuko asked hesitantly.
"They remain mostly unaffected. From time to time they will also feel what those who have bonded with them do – if it's intense enough."
"Then why is it so forbidden?" Zuko blurted out, mentally swearing at his idiocy. His curiosity had gotten the better of him.
"It matters because you become vulnerable." Iroh's voice became a whisper, and for a moment he seemed lost in a distant memory. "If something happens to them, you'll care, whether you want to or not." He paused for a second while he regained his train of thought. "The point of the Sanguine Trial is to embrace your role as predator. You form a powerful bond with your prey and then break it. The pain you feel from killing your first human, shows you how fragile humans really are. It makes you respect them and appreciate your place in the universe. If the person is still alive, you have no sense of what it means to take life – who and what you are."
"So you learn to kill with remorse?"
"Yes."
Zuko mulled over the answer for moment. "Isn't the ability to kill without remorse, a strength?"
Anger flashed in the general's golden eyes and in his voice. "No. It isn't. Only a monster, or someone like Azula, would think that!"
The young firebender was slightly taken aback by his uncle's harsh words; respect for human life was the last thing he would have thought a heavily decorated Fire Nation general would have. "So, how does not valuing human life make you vulnerable, Uncle?"
He is not yet Ozai, Iroh quietly remembered. He inhaled deeply and his tone became more gentle. "Well, if your human is alive, then the bond still exists. You will never have a true understanding of what you are – that is dangerous. Also an adversary can get to you, through them. By holding their fate hostage, they hold yours. The Sanguine Trial is designed to protect you from that."
Golden eyes opened wide at the implication. "Does that mean they can read your mind?"
He's not the sharpest tool in the shed, but he's still a good boy. Letting out a heavy sigh, he replied. "No, Zuko, but they can implant ideas and images in your mind. They can't control you but they can set an effective trap for you." His nephew still looked dumbfounded, so Iroh explained further. "Think of what that means Zuko. You're Fire Lord, and someone captures your human – hypothetically speaking- and threatens to hurt them unless you do what they say - "
" - I'd still say no!" Two pale fists hit the steel floor as the angry teen glared at his uncle, then froze, as he felt a dark abyss open up in his gut once he realized that this outburst gave his secret away.. You idiot, now he knows for sure!
Oh Zuko, what have you done? The general smiled weakly, concern flooding from his strong features. "Therein lies the problem nephew – you can't say no."
The young man exhaled, carefully pulling all emotion from his voice. I have to know. "Does the bond last forever?"
Iroh gently shook his head, speaking softly, "Only until they die." The surly teen sat motionless, but the candles in front of him began to burn brighter.
Zuko sat in silence fighting with himself: I have to tell him, but if I tell him, father will find out... Maybe there's something we can do to break the bond – other than kill the waterbender. A pair of young shoulders slumped forward, the gravity of the situation finally hitting him. Defeated and scared, the young man looked at his uncle in the eye. "Uncle, there's something I need to tell you..."
A pale, wrinkled hand gently landed on the teen's shoulder cutting him off. Wise, golden eyes looked upon him with compassion. " Zuko...I already know"
--------
The heavens opened up, unleashing their fierce, white wrath upon the land, covering everything in a thin, icy blanket of death. The failed searchparty returned within an hour after setting out, taking refuge in their frozen forts. Families huddled together for warmth, praying in silence to the water spirits to spare them from their frigid fury; no one prayed harder than Kilana.
The soft fur tickled her nose, momentarily distracting her from reciting the Litany of La. She was trying hard to concentrate, but found it hard to do with Hakoda lying next to her. At that very moment, there was no one she hated more. He should be out there looking for them, not here lying under soft, warm furs – he and the other oafs who call themselves men! My children – our children – are out there freezing to death! The well being of the tribe be damned! With a jerking motion, Kilana moved away from Hakoda. Blue eyes rimmed with unshed tears at her impotence; she shut her ears to the wind howling madly outside, anger simmering beneath her breast. Unable to take it any longer, she turned around and looked into Hakoda's hurt, blue eyes, before turning her back on him again. Damn you Hakoda! Why couldn't you be more selfish.
"Kilana, they're my children too," his strong, voice had become a soft whisper.
You don't act like they are! "I know," came her curt reply. She turned to look at him. The icy glare she gave him would have frozen a lesser man's blood.
"Kilana -"
"- Just forget it Hakoda. We'll search for their remains once the blizzard is over." Venom dripped from her lips, poisoning her husbands heart. Once again she turned her back to him, drawing blood from her lip with her teeth, to keep from sobbing. I HATE YOU.
A defeated man tightly shut his eyes and turned away to keep from crying. In a few days, the dark months would begin, and it was Hakoda's duty to make sure the tribe survived into the days of neverending light. He couldn't lose any of the men – even if it was for something as noble as looking for his children. As much as it killed him to call back his tribesmen from searching for his own flesh and blood, it needed to be done. I'm sorry Kilana, but I must do my duty.
-------
A round, old, gray-haired man stepped in the room, followed by his surly nephew. "I'm glad to see you're awake. I hope you're feeling better..."
"Katara," the young girl offered.
"Katara," Iroh repeated carefully. "Beautiful name for a beautiful girl." Katara blushed violently. "It looks like you're feeling a bit better. You gave us quite a scare back there, you know."
Brown hands rubbed her temple gently as she smiled weakly. "I'm sorry, it's just that the headache came so suddenly..." The smile fell from her lips when her eyes landed on Zuko who averted his by eyes pretending to find a rivet on the door more interesting than her.
Iroh suppressed a chuckle, "Oh, don't worry about my nephew, his bark is worse than his bite. Believe it or not, beneath that surly exterior, lies a true crown prince."
The young man would have blushed, if he had a heartbeat, but instead, he decided throwing daggers with his eyes at his uncle would be more appropriate.
"Where are your manners, Zuko, introduce yourself to the young lady-" The young man's scowl deepened. " - and escort her to the stateroom for dinner." She could have sworn the room got a few degrees warmer.
"Oh, that's okay sir, I'm not that hungry." Pale, brown cheeks were tinged with pink. She kept her eyes focused on the older man, though she could feel the young man glaring at her.
"Nonsense. A growing girl needs nourishment," Iroh smiled at her before casting a withering look at his nephew, who muttered something that sounded like naztomakeyeraquaintance. Katara looked at him with a smirk and proceeded to introduce herself wondering how he could possibly hear her over the grinding of his teeth.
"Please join us for dinner in the stateroom." Iroh turned to Katara with a disarming look of warmth radiating from his eyes, " Your brother is already there, helping himself to some roasted duck and miso soup." The old man turned to leave so she was faced with the sulking prince's pouting, while he reluctantly thrust out his arm for her to take. She shyly placed her arm in his and pretended not to notice his displeasure.
They walked down long, dark corridors, lighted by a glowing flame coming from the prince's palm. As hard as she tried, she could not stop herself from looking at his hand. Zuko was becoming increasingly self conscious, with every step they could until he could bear it no more.
"What are you staring at!" He screamed as he turned around to glower at the shrinking waterbender. The frightened expression on her face made him feel a little nauseated, but nothing compared to what happened next: as they stood in complete silence, he could hear the violent tattoo of her heart, then much to his horror, he began to feel its faint echo in his own chest.
He stared at the little waterbender in absolute terror, fighting the urge to run into the blizzard and disappear forever. In the back of his mind he could hear his uncle's voice saying, "Sometimes, you feel their very heart beat within your chest...you learn to be human – through them." He looked back at Katara: she was no longer cowering; instead she was glaring at him, blue eyes reflecting the fury within. A sudden urge to scream, "Your ugly face!" nearly overcame him as he backed into a wall. Golden eyes grew wide in shock as those same words flew out of her lips.
Bile rose to his throat. No! he thought in despair, I refuse to go through life like this. Uncle said the bond broke with their death... I could do it...there's no water and she's still weak...but the very thought of seriously hurting the girl, made him even more sick.A gentle tapping brought his attention back to the waterbender, who was no longer glaring at him. She studied him closely, with her head tilted to the side. It was almost comical, and it made Zuko feel ridiculous that he was frightened by a someone so small. His body relaxed enough for him to gain his composure. Pale lips formed a line as he offered his arm to Katara. Blue eyes looked at him questioningly before quietly accepting.
------------
During dinner Katara tried not to stare at her hosts, forcing herself to look into her soup bowl. Occasionally she glanced over at Sokka who was too busy shoveling shrimp dumplings into his mouth, and talking to Iroh with his mouth full, to notice anyone else's eating habits. She also noticed that the young boy who had carried her up the brow did not eat; instead he stared into his goblet as if transfixed by it.
Blue eyes met gold and for an instant both children felt like the world had stopped all around them. A faint beating, sounded in his ears as he looked away in anger. Unconsciously he brought the goblet to his lips. The thick, warm liquid trickled down his throat. Why is she looking at me; does she know what happened? Questions popped into his head faster than he could verbalize them, but were immediately forgotten the instant their eyes met. Their serenity frightened him. What if she knows?
Katara had never seen anyone quite like him. He was a no more than a year older than Sokka, she guessed, but much taller and far more conceited, if that was possible. Still, he was quite handsome. His skin was as white as the fresh, fallen snow and his hair as black as the deep ocean on a moonless night. His eyes were golden and bright like the rays of the yellow sun, reflected off of the snow drifts. The heavy, red silk robes he wore, only made his skin look that much lighter. Several times during the meal, their eyes met, but he always seemed to look away with displeasure, which was beginning to irritate her. Sokka and I may not be royalty, but that's no reason to not want to eat with us, she thought with indignation.
"I'll show you to your rooms now" The old general practically hopped out of his chair beckoning to the Water Tribe children once their meal ended.
"But Sir, we have to go home." Katara stammered.
"Not in this weather." Iroh's eyes looked grave as he shook his head.
"But our parents -" the siblings cried out in unison.
" - Your parents are probably not looking for you in the middle of a blizzard." The old man's voice was gentle, but commanding. "In the morning, I will personally escort you back to your village. But until then, you must remain in your rooms, do you understand?"
Katara and Sokka quietly nodded.
"Good. If you need anything during the night, ring this bell – do not leave this room – or open the door for anyone unless its Zuko or me. It's for your safety." The Water Tribe children looked perplexed, but Sokka took the golden bell from an extended, pale hand. Katara cast a furtive glance at Zuko, who avoided her eyes.
Ring. Ring. Ring. All eyes were on Sokka.
"Sokka, stop ringing that bell!" Katara hissed at her brother.
"What? I'm just making sure it works." Sokka grinned broadly as he rang it again. Iroh smiled politely and Zuko rolled his eyes to the back of his head.
"Sokka, I mean it. That sound is annoying." Katara could feel her color rising.
"We have to be sure Katara. Remember, safety first – Ow!"
"I said that's enough Sokka! Say goodnight now." Small brown hands tightly wrapped themselves around the pony tail on top of his head and pulled mercilessly.
"Goodnight! Ow Katara, that really hurts!" The young man whined in a cracking voice.
Iroh let out a hearty chuckle. Zuko just stared at the dueling siblings and felt a strange pang. In a way he was reminded of Azula and all that he had left back home and he wondered if coming with his uncle had been the right choice. Father wants me here, and here I shall be. A heavy sigh escaped his lips as he looked at Katara one last time before she closed the door. Goodnight.
Six Komodo rhinos dragged their massive bodies through the interminable, frozen wasteland before them, leaving only narrow trenches as proof of their journey. Bitter, arctic gales burned human, animal and vampire flesh alike. The only respite from the cold came from the body heat shared between riders and beasts, which in the case of the vampires, went only in one direction.
It was this way that Iroh and his entourage chose to travel since slow-moving beasts were better ambasadors of good-will than metal tanks. The Southern Water Tribe, was after all currently neutral, and they wanted to keep it that way. The war was going badly for the Fire Nation, and the less help their enemies had, the better – even if it was from backwards peasants.
"How far would you say we are from your village," the portly general turned to ask the child clinging to him for dear life who remained silent for a few moments.
"Hmmmm..." a little brown forehead furrowed. "My warrior instincts tell me it's just over those drifts up ahead." Blue eyes squinted, nodding violently when he caught sight of a blue figure in the distance. "Yup, definitely up ahead."
Katara scowled at her brother. He seemed so proud of himself. Where were your stupid warrior instincts yesterday Sokka? she wanted to yell at her brother, but changed her mind when the rider of her beast scoffed at the Water Tribe boy.
"Is there a problem?" Her voice was barely above a whisper, but Zuko heard it loud and clear. Through his five layers of clothes, he could feel the small body behind him, sit up straight, as if preparing for a fight, and tried not to let his eyes roll to the back of his head.
"No," he lied. But really there was a problem. A great big one. He had heard her thoughts – every single one – and it didn't seem to be getting any better. His uncle had already told him what he could expect, though how he knew exactly was never discussed, but it wouldn't be the end of the world. As long as no one else knew, everything would remain the same.
She seemed a little surprised thathe heard her, but it was all forgotten the minute she caught sight of her father's figure. "Daddy!"
Ephemeral beats echoed in his chest and he almost smiled at the feeling. In all of his years, he had never felt this way when greeting anyone – even his own mother. Maybe this bond thing won't be so bad after all, he thought to himself as he saw the little Waterbender fly off his rhino to meet her dad.
88
"Sokka, Katara!" Blue eyes were wide in disbelief. Hakoda looked like he had just seen the walking dead, without realizing he literally had.
"Kilana, come out here. The kids are back." The father hysterically called into the tent. Within seconds, a woman flew out, practically lighting up the dark morning with her beaming smile.
"Katara, Sokka!" She screamed as she ran towards her children, who ran up to meet her, picking them up in a tight embrace. "You had me worried sick. Never, ever do that again you understand. The whole village went looking for you and..." The rambling mother stopped in mid sentence when she noticed the old general and his foreign looking entourage. A coil formed in her gut as she glared distrustfully at him.
"Children, who is this?" The woman asked as she pushed Sokka and Katara behind her, turning to look at her husband who was already walking towards the strange men.
Kilana invited the party inside the tent for some hot sea prune sake, which Iroh graciously accepted, speeding things along by warming the sake pot in the palm of his hand. The wife squealed with delight, embarassing the old general just a little bit. The adults sat around the bear rug while the children found themselves ostracized to some dark corner of the tent.
Iroh explained to Hakoda and Kilana the reason why he was returning their children to them. He spared no detail in doing so, and was not sure why he saw Hakoda's fists and jaw clench and all color drain from Kilana's face. By the time he was done, the once cheerful Water Tribe matron, now looked pale and hopeless, as though she was just issued a death sentence.
Hakoda coolly asked the teenager's uncle if he wanted to see the chief to explain the reason for his visit, callously ignoring his wife's supplications. Iroh was certain he had done something wrong, but accepted his hosts invitation to see Chief Sangook. He asked Zuko to stay in the tent for a while, and as he walked out he took one last look inside and caught Kilana's desperate blue eyes. Her beautiful face was stained with quiet tears, her eyes begging him for something he didn't quite understand until she looked back at her daughter and shook her head. A cold chill ran down Iroh's body as he hoped he had misunderstood the situation. He opened his mouth to say something, but a large gloved hand tapped him gently on the shoulder asking him to follow.
In a darker corner of the tent, Sokka and Katara sat in silence facing Prince Zuko, which made the already naturally awkward teen, even more self conscious.
"Soooo," Sokka squeaked as he ran his hand over his budding wolf-tail, as if making sure it still there. "How old are you?"
"Thirteen." He barely spoke above a hushed whisper, trying to ignore Katara who was staring at her mother in horror. Dad knows! kept echoing hysterically inside his head.
"I'm eleven – almost twelve. I'll go ice dodging next year, when I begin my warrior training." Sokka beamed, but the prince seemed genuinely uninterested, which hurt the proto-warrior's feelings a bit.
Zuko cast furtive glances in Katara's direction, hoping to catch her eye, but she continued to stare at her mother, the beating in her chest growing more frantic with every passing minute. What's wrong? Who don't you want to know? He wanted to scream at her, to grab her by the shoulders and shake her – to have her do anything other than what she was doing right now. Unable to stand much more of her simpering, he got up, drawing her eyes to him. For a moment their eyes met and he suddenly wished they hadn't.
Clear blue eyes, stared back at him and he heard her voice whisper in his head, He's going to kill me... I'm going to die...
"Who's going to kill you?" He yelled at her in complete frustration, which only made the little girl sob harder.
"Who's going to kill whom now?" Sokka asked as his eyes moved between Zuko and Katara.
"I don't know!" Zuko bit back defensively, throwing his arms into the air in complete panic. The situation would have escalated completely out of control if Kilana had not gotten an emotional hold of herself and intervened.
"No one is going to kill anyone today." She said in the most condfident voice she could muster though she didn't believe it. "Sokka, take Prince Zuko to the lodge where your daddy and grandad are." Sokka jumped to his feet and signaled to Zuko to follow him. Scowling, he followed Sokka out of the tent without bothering to say goodbye.
"Katara honey, don't worry, we'll figure something out." Was the last thing he heard the heartbroken mother say to her inconsolable child.
-----
On a thick, warm, rein-elk pelt, Iroh sat cross legged in front of a cooking fire, a teapot whistling was the only sound. Zuko was fast asleep, curled into a little ball in a corner; his back to the fire. The old general's quiet moment was interrupted by light footsteps outside the tent. Almost as if by instinct, Iroh flew out to meet his guest nearly falling into her in his zeal. Quickly, both adults regained their composure.
"Genereal Iroh, I need to speak with you about a serious matter – one involving Katara." Her voice quivered a bit and she cursed herself for not having more control of her emotions.
Iroh looked into her deep blue eyes and felt a strange pang in his unbeating heart. He could tell she had been crying - probably for hours – and that it was related to his conversation with her husband earlier in the day. "What can I do for you, my dear?"
"I want you to take Katara with you." Her voice was quiet but strong.
"I can't do that! We're heading to a war zone – it's not safe!"
"You're taking your nephew and he's not much older than Katara – please, I'm begging you...just get her out of here."
Golden eyes stared into blue in disbelief. "Why would you want tha lifestyle for your daughter?"
"It's not like I want it, but she can't stay here – you've made it so that she can no longer live here." Kilana's glare froze Iroh's blood. "Yes, you heard me, she's going to die – because of you!" Her poisonous words found their mark, and she smiled inwardly at their effect.
Iroh shook his head slowly. "I don't understand."
"I know you know our nation once boasted the most powerful waterbenders in the world before our war. We used to have magnificent structures – now we have nothing. Ask yourself why."
"There was a war – with whom?" Iroh seemed a little embarassed at his lack of knowledge.
"Waterbenders." She knew it was a half truth, the whole truth being undead waterbenders, but it made her point as the general's features grew grave upon hearing that bit of information. "Hakoda – Katara's father - is in charge of cleansing the tribe of waterbenders."
Although his face remained a mask of impassiveness, Iroh suddenly felt as though a great chasm had opened before him ready to take him to the spirit realm. "I see," was all he could will himself to say. He looked into her eyes, losing himself to his memories as he fingered a small necklace he had in his sleeve. "I can't take her with me, Kilana" he shook his head, "But I will offer you some assistance. Give her this necklace – tell her it's an old family heirloom from your side of the family." A cold, wrinkled hand carefully deposited an intricately carved necklace into a pair of warm, gloved hands. "Put it on her and don't let her lose it. It was my beloved's and is now her's. I will use it to find her in case you are not around – for whatever reason."
Kilana stared at the trinket, eyes going wide when she saw what it truly was. "You can't be serious!" She practically stammered. "This is...this is a – "
"- Betrothal necklace." The old man's face was inscrutable until he let out a long sigh. "It belonged to my beloved." Kilana looked like she was about to say something, but Iroh raised his hand to silence her. "I would know this necklace anywhere, but not necessarily your daughter. Please don't think I am offering her marriage. I just want a sure way to know who she is if you two get separated."
The woman slowly nodded as she tightly wrapped her hand around the necklace. Blue eyes never left his face. "Thank you, but I don't see how this necklace will keep my husband from carrying out his duty."
"Leave that to me my dear." Kilana wanted to object, but there was something about the old man's countenance that gave her peace. "Chief Sangook does not know about Katara – only you, your husband and my crew. I'll make sure to keep it that way, just wait until morning."
Kilana bowed deeply to the general before leaving. As Iroh returned inside his tent, two startled golden eyes looked straight at his uncle.
"What are you going to do?"
That same night Katara heard her parents arguing inside the tent next door. They were talking about her, but she couldn't make out the details. She tried waking Sokka, since he was always better at making out mumbles, but he slept like he was dead. Slowly, the little girl inched her way towards the side closest to her parents, but stopped halfway when she heard her mother leave the tent in a huff. Katara dove into her sleeping area, pulling the furs over her head as she trid to slow down her breathing. She felt her mother snuggle close to her and kiss her on the head. Everything will be alright, she whispered into her daughter's ear. In silence, Katara waited for her father to come in, but he never did. That night, their father did not sleep on the same fur as their mother, and she wondered why. For some reason, she couldn't help but think that maybe her waterbending had something to do with it.
Kilana awkoe before the sun had risen, combed her hair and changed into a clean parka. She gently patted the two bundles snoring softly under the fur covers, making her way out of the tent only when she was sure neither would get up to follow her. Hakoda had been furious with her the night before. He had accused her of deceiving him in the worst possible way and confirmed her worst suspicions about his intentions towards their daughter. Whatever love, whatever loyalty she had felt for her husband was gone. She would do anything to save Katara – anything – even the unspeakable.
Her heart was full of courage as she stopped outside Iroh's tent ready for whatever help he had to offer her. Breathe Kilana, it may all be over soon enough, she reassured herself. No matter what happens, Katara will be alright. She blew into her hands to warm them up, jumping at the sound of Iroh clearing his throat.
"You're up early my dear." Iroh smiled weakly pointing at the dark sky.
"I couldn't sleep. I spoke to Hakoda..." her voice broke like glass, rendering her incapable of finishing her sentence. She didn't need to – the old general understood.
The portly old man held out a small wooden box in one hand and a miniscule glass vial in the other. "Take this tea," he said pointing to the box, "and brew one cup for Katara and another for Hakoda. In each cup you will add one drop – you hear me – just one drop of what's in this vial. Anymore and you will end up poisoning the ones you love. Once they've had the tea - "
The mother felt her heart jump in her chest. " - What's the tea supposed to do?" She interrupted without thinking.
Iroh looked a little annoyed, sighing louder than he needed to. "Once they've had the tea, you will need to tell them to forget ever having met me."
"Why does Katara have to take the poison?" Her face felt hot as she eyed the items in the general's hands with a little more suspicion.
"It's not poison per se." The old man furrowed his brow. "For her safety and Hakoda's, it's best if they never remember seeing us."
"What happens if they remember? What if they can't forget you?" Kilana bit her lip as she reached for the vial and the tea.
"Repeat the process until they do. They can only drink one drop each time and can not have more than one cup of tea a day. Any more, and the consequences could be fatal." Golden eyes narrowed and bored into blue. "You must understand the importance of the danger of doing this."
The worried wife looked at the items in her hand. "Is there any other way?"
"No, not really. I will return in six months time and take your daughter to an abbey in the Fire Nation. She will be safe there." His tone was commanding leaving little room for argument.
"But if Hakoda doesn't remember, she can stay." Kilana argued in her most authoritative voice.
Iroh shook his head. "He'll remember sooner or later. This just buys us some time."
A deep pit opened in the blue-eyed woman's stomach. "I see. So I lose her either way."
"So it would seem." Wise, golden eyes softened a bit as he looked into her sad blue eyes. "I'll take good care of her, I promise."
Kilana nodded and thanked Iroh, before heading back to her tent.
Inside his own tent Iroh saw his nephew was sitting in a meditative position. "I see you're up Zuko."
Zuko simply nodded, not even bothering to open his eyes. "Then you'll surely know what Katara's mother and I have discussed."
The young man remained still, pretending not to hear his uncle, though he felt his anger about to boil over.
"It's for the best, nephew. If she's in the abbey -"
"She won't remember anything uncle! You're taking her memory from her – against her will! That isn't right." Golden eyes burned with anger as he stared his uncle down.
"Calm down Zuko. She'll remember sooner or later, and she won't forget you – not really." The last statement had its intended effect.
"I just don't want to..." He couldn't finish because he didn't know what to say. Ever since he bonded with the little waterbender, everything had become confusing. He no longer knew where he ended and she started. But as frustrating as the entire situation felt, the thought of losing that bond altogether was far worse. Vampires were quiet, boring creatures with shallow emotions. Their hearts never raced, their blood didn't run through their veins, even their lungs didn't really work involunatarily. They were dead inside and out. To have a connection to someone – no matter how small or annoying – brought life. He could sometimes feel her very heart beat in his chest and knew what she was about to say before she did, freaking her out to no end. But most of all, he thought he understood what humans meant by love. What she had felt upon seeing her father – that fluttering of the heart – he had never felt before, and part of him longed to feel again.
"I know Zuko," his uncle said soothingly as he knelt beside him and smiled. "Have a cup of tea."
The Fire Nation visitors did not stay more than three days, leaving almost immediately after informing Katara's grandfather of their military actions in South Pole waters. The Southern Water tribe had little choice but to acquiesce. They were no match for the Fire Nation, and were glad the fire lord regarded them well enough to send an envoy. What Chief Sangook did not know, was that the Dragon of the West had acted of his own accord, out of diplomacy, something Fire Lord Ozai, did not seem to understand.
The Southern Water Tribe, could not really demand that the Fire Nation exit its waters. While their warriors were fierce, there weren't enough of them, or boats for that matter, to coerce the Fire Nation to leave South Pole waters, so Chief Sangook had little choice but to save face by acquiescing. In exchange for this trespass, Iroh offered the South Pole protection from Air Nomad attacks and several sacks of a rare jasmine tea. The aging chief smiled, knowing full well this was an empty promise, since the aggressor in this war had been the Fire Nation, but was glad for the tea.
The day after the Fire Nation ship had sailed, Hakoda came down with a raging fever and was vomiting violently. Kilana lovingly cared for her husband, and summoned the village healer in hopes of making him better. Sokka and Katara were scared. They had never seen their father ill before. Sokka tried to help around the house by taking over his father's chores and Katara made most of the meals and tent repairs. By pulling together, they would see their father through.
In a few days their father was better, but he seemed to act a little differently. His head and arms seemed to spasm involuntarily and his speech was a little slurred. He seemed to remember perfectly well who he was, and in a week resumed all normal activities; but something was still off. From time to time Hakoda would start hallucinating or forget where he was. People around him thought this would pass and were patient with his ever increasing erratic behavior. After all, they needed to show some respect, since this man would once day become their chief when Sangook died.
Kilana counted the months, hoping General Iroh would make good on his promise to return for Katara, but it was becoming increasingly difficult to live in such a small village. People were now whispering that his slurred speech and erratic behavior were because she was poisoning her husband with an unknown substance to cover an affair with Bato. They even said Katara was in on it, waiting for her father to die so that she could marry Kinto and make him the new chief. How else was that betrothal necklace to be explained?
Time after time the frustrated wife tried talking sense into her kinsfolk, but they would not listen. The stories they told were better at whittling away the hours infront of a fire than whatever "truth" Kilana would tell them. As the months went by she noticed her husband's memory was getting worse and his behavior was becoming even more random. Whatever anger and resentment she had felt for him melted away as his condition deteriorated, leaving the core of her love for him to shine bright in her heart. The love of her life had returned to her – but at a tremendous cost.
As the Winter Solstice celebration approached, Hakoda went out with other tribe's men to catch some fish when he began to act strangely. He took off all of his clothes and jumped into the freezing waters. The other men tried to pull him out, but by the time they got to him, it was already too late. Kilana mourned the loss of the love of her life and her children were devastated. None the less, people continued to whisper. Soon the whispers became vicious rumors, which in turn were treated as fact, and The young wife's life became impossible. Everyone blamed her for Hakoda's death, claiming she had poisoned him, though no one could ever prove anything.
Unable and unwilling to wait another month for the general, Kilana and her children packed their belongings taking the next trade ship out of the South Pole. She had given Iroh six months and a day for him to keep his promise to her, but would wait no longer. If only she had waited one more day, she would have seen Iroh's ship arrived with the morning sun. A bad bout of food poisoning had delayed his ship two days, which he cursed the minute he learned of Hakoda's untimely demise, followed by Kilana's move. In his heart, Iroh knew he would see that family again and decided to use that port call to shop for whatever goods the South Pole had to offer, which sadly were little more than seal jerky and parka's which were one size too small.