Author's Note: Thank you to everyone who has been reading and reviewing! Reviewer of the week is protagonist-m, who gives fabulous feedback that makes me smile. Just a reminder that reviews make me happy, and my happiness makes updates come quicker.

The Avatar was glowing. I didn't know what the glowing meant, but it really could not be good.

I saw a new emotion making its way to Aang's face: rage, mixing fluidly with the grief already predominant there. It was entirely unexpected of the benign little boy, and I felt the first stirrings of fear as I realized that the situation was now beyond my control.

"Aang?" Katara questioned, releasing him and shifting away. Her hair and clothes were starting to move in the suddenly dynamic air in the room.

The Avatar did not regard her. He roared wordlessly at me. The artificial wind picked up, and objects started to fly. I ducked to avoid having my head knocked off by Uncle's teapot, which shattered against the wall behind me.

"Aang, listen to me!" Uncle shouted over the rising mayhem. "We did not kill any of the Air Nomads. They were gone long before I was born. Anyone who was involved is now either dead or ancient!"

Aang began to rise into the air.

"We are not your enemies!" I told him as I jumped up and reached up to take a restraining hold on his arm. Katara copied my motion, and together we pulled him back to the floor. Her arms went around the boy's shoulders, her mouth moving at his ear. I did not hear what she told him over the loud wind, but I noticed when the tension seemed to drain out of the airbender; the glowing faded, the cyclone slowed and stopped, and everything was jarringly still and quiet.

I met Katara's eyes over Aang's head, and she looked at me as though we were two exhausted parents who had finally managed to bring a child's violent temper tantrum to an end. It was a rather nice alternative to her death glare.

As Katara continued consoling the grieving Avatar, I catalogued the damage his little episode had caused. To be brief, everything not fixed down or extremely heavy had been picked up by the gale force and smashed against a wall. I was exceedingly glad that somebody else would be responsible for cleaning this disaster zone up. While attention was still on Aang, I discreetly waved away the guards that had silently appeared at the door, drawn by the noise. I think Sokka may have noticed them.

I was not particularly versed in consolation beyond the polite, obviously false comments of courtiers. I allowed Uncle to handle that.

Or not; Uncle was looking purposefully at me.

"I can't imagine," I began dryly, the Avatar still hiding his face in Katara's shoulder, "what it is like to lose your entire people so abruptly. But I do know loss. And I'm sorry that my forefathers brought about yours, Aang."

Aang straightened and faced me, lightly pushing Katara's arms away. He didn't meet my eyes as he said, "It's—not your fault." His shaky sigh sounded like it was not far away from a sob. "They would all be dead by now anyway."

I nodded, which he didn't see.

Aang looked around the destroyed room, his eyes avoiding the people within it.

"I'm sorry," he said about the mess.

"Don't worry over it," Uncle said.

Aang took great interest in his hands entwined in his lap, and he addressed them, "I still want to see my home."

"I'm not so sure that's a good idea," Katara cautioned.

"I want to see…what's left. If there's anything left."

"We'll take you there," I offered. "But it's almost impossible to get into the air temples. Their structure only allows easy access to those who can fly in."

Sokka looked like he wanted to ask how I knew that, but Aang spoke first, "I've got that covered." A little smile appeared on his lips, and I thought it might have reached his eyes.

I was having a difficult time refraining from staring; eventually, I settled for just trying to keep my mouth closed as I stared.

Sokka called the behemoth before me a "giant snot monster." Aang called it "Appa." According to the Avatar, it was an air bison, and it could fly.

Beyond wondering whether or not it would actually fly, I was really curious about how it had grown an arrow in a different tone of fur onto its head. I asked Aang, but he didn't know.

I was not overly opposed to allowing Appa to stay on the main deck of my ship. Despite Sokka's complaints against his cleanliness, he seemed for the most part nonviolent and lethargic. My crew ceased to be alarmed by him as soon as the great creature ambled on board, flopped down on deck, and promptly went to sleep.

We stayed there one more day as Katara tried to convince Sokka and their grandmother to allow her to accompany Aang. She wanted to see an air temple; she had an adventurous spirit, one not suited to life in a tiny, isolated community built on frigid nothingness. I could understand that.

Eventually, their grandmother's conditional consent was given, which I had not expected. It took Uncle's best brew of tea and a considerable amount of pleading on Katara's part, but she eventually allowed the excursion on a number of conditions. Sokka had to go with her to protect her. She was not to fraternize with the enemy. She was not to tell her father about this. After seeing the air temple, she had to come straight back to the South Pole.

This last part posed a slight issue for me. Even more so than detouring to the air temple, returning to the South Pole was counterproductive to my agenda. The more I delayed bringing the Avatar to the Father Lord, the more opportunity for something to go wrong and for me to lose my chance at regaining my honor. Beyond that, my ship was not a pleasure vessel to be employed with ferrying sightseers around as they pleased—it's a disengaged warship, what was she thinking?

But I knew what she was thinking: she was so desperate for a taste of life beyond confinement that she would want to journey on an enemy ship, taking on all the risks that entails, just to see some ruins with her friend. It was perfectly understandable insanity, which might make it sane after all.

When we did set out on course for the Southern Air Temple, along with a child Avatar, two semi-hostile teenage Water Tribe peasants, and one giant sleepy air bison, I expected to feel some sense of accomplishment for actually talking the quarry into coming willingly with its hunter. It was a feat worthy of Azula, but I was somehow lacking the satisfaction that seemed to be the consistent outcome of her manipulatory exploits. I ended up chalking my slightly apprehensive feeling up to the possibility that something still might go wrong.

As my ship was not a pleasure vessel, I had to scramble a bit to make accommodations for the extra guests. I would be sharing Uncle's chamber, and Aang and Sokka would be sharing mine, with Katara in the one I had initially prepared for the Avatar. The holding cell was still available, and for all I desired to stick Sokka in it, I had to bend over backwards to keep the Avatar happy if I wanted his continued cooperation. Under different circumstances, I would have exhibited much more petulance than my current charade now allowed for. I had to share a room with Uncle, and he snored.

The journey to the Southern Air Temple was about two days by sea, and I had no intention of letting those two days slide by unused. It was the very first afternoon of the voyage when I found myself lurking within the shadows of an air vent that led into what had previously been my room. My three young guests were gathered inside.

"Aang, I don't like this," Sokka was saying.

"I know, but I think it would at least be worthwhile for me to hear what the Fire Lord has to say. Besides, if I don't go, he might be mad, and I don't want to make any enemies."

"We're at war!" Sokka protested. "You have to have enemies!"

"Aang," Katara reasoned, "I know Zuko said you're undeclared, but think about it: the Fire Nation attacked the Air Nomads to begin the war. As an airbender, you have to be against the Fire Nation. Besides that, as the Avatar, you have to see that they're the ones upsetting the world's balance, which it is your job to prevent."

"But Zuko said that the Fire Lord wants to end the war," Aang reasoned back. "That's what the Avatar should want, right? The end of the war?"

"Well, yeah," said Sokka, "But if the Fire Nation are the ones to end the war on their terms, it may be a complete takeover."

"Zuko said it wouldn't be."

"Zuko didn't mention anything other than an end to the fighting. He didn't talk about what would happen to the world beyond our village."

"Well, if he didn't say, then we don't know that it would be bad!"

"But—"

"Katara," Aang cut him off, "Didn't you say that the Fire Nation wasn't at a disadvantage in the war? That they didn't need the Avatar in order to win it?"

"Yes."

"Then why, if they were just interested in taking over, would they even bother with me? They want me for validation—so that their actions can look legitimate to the other nations! That means that they really do want peace, if they're making the effort to play up to the standards of the rest of the world."

I was beginning to think that I had underestimated Aang. He was a child, but he understood an awful lot of the implications of what I had said, more than the other two had picked up on. He just didn't realize that it was all lies, that the Father Lord would rather exterminate the other nations than try to kiss up to them.

"That just seems…" Katara began.

"Suspicious," Sokka suggested.

"Unrealistic," Katara finished. "The Fire Nation isn't like that."

"How would you know that?" Aang questioned. "I bet you haven't even met a firebender before."

"You're wrong," Katara said icily. I was certain that there was something there, and I was sure Aang would press her to elaborate and alleviate my curiosity.

"Then when—" Aang was interrupted by a knock on the door. A servant informed them that it was time for tea, and I silently cursed myself for timing this poorly. I moved as they were moving so that any noise I might make wouldn't be noticed, and I crept back out of the vent the way I had come, running around to meet up with them and Uncle for tea.

I had to pretend to be sociable for a little while, carefully avoiding any subjects too political. It wasn't hard, as every other person at the table was inclined enough to chatter that I had to contribute very little. Uncle was delighted to learn that Aang knew how to play Pai Sho, and we were soon to be subjected to watching their game. It was especially slow, as they tried to explain the game to Sokka, who was not quick to pick up on it. He wanted a microanalysis of not just the rules but the strategy, and I could see that Katara was as mind-numbingly bored as I was. When she pleaded fatigue and begged leave to return to her room, I offered to escort her.

"Not a fan of Pai Sho?" I asked as the door closed behind us.

Katara shrugged. "It's not the game. It's Sokka making the game too tiresome. Do you play?"

"Only if Uncle can convince me to, which is not often. I don't have the patience for such a long game."

"Hmm," Katara replied noncommittally.

I decided that I might as well take this chance to do some digging for information.

"Not a fan of the Fire Nation, are you?" This question was much less conversational.

"No, I'm not. Why would I be?"

"Oh, you shouldn't be; I'm not a fan of the Water Tribes. However, you seem to have an especially fervent hatred for my people—you haven't been discreet about it. Why is that so?"

"It's none of your business."

"I think it is, as it concerns me that you keep fixing me with hateful glares. It's rude, and I don't think I've done anything to you to earn that much resentment."

We had reached her room by that point, and she stopped and turned to face me rather than go inside. "The Fire Nation is evil—they kill without consequence. Every bit of my hatred has been earned ten times over. And you're no different—you're the Fire Lord's son, and spreading war and violence and hatred is in your blood! So forgive me if I don't seem too anxious to be your friend. Good evening." She opened the door and went inside. My foot prevented it from closing.

"Hold up," I protested. "We're in a war; both sides are doing plenty of killing. I know some of my own people who have died at the hands of the enemy in this war."

Katara didn't respond right away. She had stopped a few feet into her room, her back to me.

"Katara," I said more quietly. "Please explain to me why you hate me so much. I don't understand. I don't hate you." It was coercion, but it was true: I didn't hate her. My main issue with her was that she kept glaring at me. That, and she was complicating my plans, but that wasn't really a flaw in her character so much as a particularity of circumstance.

Katara didn't turn to look at me as she spoke, and I had to come a couple steps closer to catch her almost-whispered words: "Six years ago, our village was raided by the Fire Nation."

I had suspected something along those lines; she had told Aang that she had encountered firebenders before.

"I remember that day so perfectly. The sky was very blue and there were hardly any clouds. Sokka and I were having a snowball fight." She chuckled quietly, making it a sad sound. "I had just hit Sokka full in the face with a snowball and I was giggling as he was gathering up an even bigger one to throw back at me. I didn't know why he suddenly dropped it until I too looked up to stare at the sky.

"The snow, which had very suddenly started drifting down, was black. Some of the adults in our village had seen the black snow before, so we knew what it meant. I have never been so scared in all my life as I was then."

I had come close enough to her to see her trembling hands. Stepping next to her, I saw that her eyes were closed and there were thin, shining streams of tears on her cheeks. I had absolutely no idea what to do for a crying girl, but thankfully I didn't have to, as she continued after a shuddering breath.

"I told him that I was going to find our mother. Then I—I—I—"

Apparently, that was her breaking point, as she started crying in earnest now, delicate hands coming up to cover her face. She let me guide her to a chair, and I sat across from her, waiting.

I had a hard time judging how much time it actually was before her breathing slowed and quieted and her hands came away from her face. She took the handkerchief I held out with a subdued, "Thank you," and proceeded to dry her red eyes.

"I ran into the village, passing warriors who were running the other way. Everything was so loud, everyone shouting and running, kids screaming. I remember the blue cloth under my hand as I pulled back the door to our home.

"There was a man inside, standing between me and my mother. She was kneeling at his feet. They both turned to look at me when I came in.

"'Just let her go,' she begged him, 'and I'll give you the information that you want.' And then he looked at me—I'll never forget the face under that helmet—and barked, 'You heard your mother, get out of here!'

"I was too frightened to do that; I wanted my mother. 'Mom, I'm scared,' I said."

Katara's voice had grown very unsteady again, and I was afraid that I was going to see more sobbing. Fresh tears spilled down her cheeks, and she reached up not to wipe them away but to clutch the charm on her necklace before going on.

"She told me to go find my dad, that she would handle this." Wet blue eyes shut, and a sharp intake of breath preceded her saying, "I ran as fast as I could to find my father. But we were too late. When we got there, the man was gone." Another breath, and Katara's fragile composure completely fell apart as she finished, "And so was she."

I let her cry. I knew that she wouldn't be receptive of any condolences I would give, and I didn't really know how to give them anyway.

After she had run out of tears and gradually fell silent, I felt as though I had to say something. I tried to imagine what Uncle would say in this situation.

"Your mother was a brave woman," I settled upon.

"I know."

"It's wrong that the war took her away from you."

"I know."

"It's something we have in common."

She looked at me in surprise. "What?"

"I lost my mother because of the war too."

"Oh." A pause, in which she looked equal parts disbelieving and curious. "I'm sorry."

I did not want to talk about this, but I didn't see a scenario in which I could avoid it and yet still keep her belief and sympathy.

"It's a long story, actually," I stalled.

"We have time."

I sighed. "I suppose it all started when my cousin died," I began slowly. "My uncle, you see, had a son named Lu Ten, who was several years older than me. When I was still a kid, he was already fighting in the war. He died in combat, and my uncle was devastated.

"Uncle had been holding the Earth Kingdom capital of Ba Sing Se under siege at the time he received the news. He abandoned the siege, a huge tactical set-back for the Fire Nation. While my uncle grieved, back at home in the Fire Nation, my father sought to take advantage of Uncle's precarious situation. He went to my grandfather Azulon, who was Fire Lord at the time, and asked him for Uncle's birthright. His son was dead, his line was ended, and he lacked the hard determination needed to be ruler in a time of war.

"Grandfather was furious with my father, that he would ask him to betray his firstborn son so soon after the demise of his only child. I was hiding behind a curtain while they were talking, and I heard Grandfather say that Iroh had suffered enough, but that my father's suffering was yet to begin.

"I had snuck away after hearing that, so the rest is unfortunately secondhand from my sister. She's…" I looked up, as though the ceiling would give me a word to adequately describe Azula. "A filthy liar. But I think she might not have been totally false with me about this—the truth was too much to her liking to distort it.

"The next morning, I was awakened by her singing cheerfully, 'Dad's going to kill you!' She said that Grandfather had decreed that my father's punishment must fit his crime, that he must learn the pain of losing a firstborn son by sacrificing his own."

Katara's eyes had gone appropriately wide at this. "Wait, what? Your grandfather didn't really—"

"I don't know," I admitted. "But given what happened next, I think he did."

I had the Water Tribe girl completely enraptured in the sad drama of my family. At least it had succeeded in putting her own unhappy history out of her head.

"When I was asleep that night, someone entered my room and sat on the edge of my bed, gently shaking me awake. It was my mother, wearing a dark cloak that I had never seen on her before. She spoke to me with great urgency, but my sleepy mind didn't make the connection at the time that it was a goodbye.

"The next morning, my grandfather had been found dead. My mother was missing. My father was crowned Fire Lord, as per my grandfather's alleged 'dying wish'. Nothing came of the supposed order to kill me."

"Whoa. I'm sorry, but…I don't really think I understand what happened."

"What I told you is all I really know; the rest is guesswork. If I was able to come to the conclusion I came to with just that, you should be able to do the same. I would like to leave this subject."

"Alright."

She didn't say anything else straight away, but she looked at me with a degree of curiosity, and I tried to guess what was on her mind. I was unsuccessful, until a flick of her eyes betrayed her. Of course she wasn't saying anything—nobody ever was quite brave enough to ask outright about the scar.

"What?" I challenged when she accidently slipped into staring.

She blushed, looking away. "Nothing."

"You can ask me whatever it is that is bothering you," I prompted, just for the sake of making her uncomfortable. I hated when people stared.

"Er," she hedged, "I don't really—I'm sorry, I mean…"

I frowned at her. "Stop. It doesn't matter." I stood, looked down at her, and said with practiced courtesy, "I trust you are well, so I will take my leave. Good evening."

"Good evening," she hastily returned, getting up and following me to the door. "Thanks for…um…"

"Sure."

The door closed behind me.

By the way, readers, it may interest you to know that I am no longer the creative force behind this story; the characters are, and they are the ones you should hold responsible for this monstrously long chapter. The entire exchange at the end was completely unscripted: I had planned "Oh, I should have Aang and Iroh play Pai Sho, what great filler!" but apparently Zuko decided he wanted to talk to Katara. *shrug* If it means that much to you, Zuzu, then whatever. I'll just put you down as a coauthor.