Midsummer Madness Chapter 30: The Letter, an avatar: last airbender fanfic

Title: Midsummer Madness

Author: Burning_Ice

Rating: R

Summary: Katara learns that there are both advantages and drawbacks to being a female water bending master, and pays back a favor to an old friend.

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Disclaimer: This is a fan made project, I didn't create any of this. I don't claim it as my own. But you should definitely go buy Avatar merchandise, mainly because it rocks.

Chapter 30: The Letter

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Stuffing things back into her backpack, Katara couldn't help but cry, the quarter moon had risen, and with it, both her hormones and her bending. She knew he didn't mean it, she knew he was distraught; she knew he would be angry at her for a while and it was normal, but it didn't make it sting any less.

He was right.

Katara paused in her frantic packing, she had to think of a way to make it up to him. She couldn't bring Ursa back from the dead, she couldn't avenge her death, she couldn't even support him. He wouldn't let her.

Poking through her bag, she pulled out the strange necklace Ursa had given her. Lifting it up, it caught the last of the light and sparkled happily. In a sudden fit of frustration and self loathing, Katara threw it across the room.

It bounced against the far wall, and then rolled end over end, disappearing under her vanity table. With a grunt, Katara crossed the room and got down on her hands and knees, reaching into the darkness for it. After several minutes of fishing, she managed to hook her fingers through the string, and retrieve it.

Almost impulsively, she reached it up and fastened it around her neck marveling at the juxtaposition of it against her olive skin and her travel cloths. Even more curious was the fact that, as soon as it was on her neck, she heard the strangest sounds floating faintly out across the water of the bay.

It stopped her in her tracks, and she rushed out to the balcony, leaning far out over the railing to try to hear more clearly. It was a seductive, tuneless, and enchanting; it made her want to rush to the water and throw herself into the waves to find their source. The urge was nearly unstoppable, and she found herself slipping a leg over the railing, intent to jump off.

Terrified, Katara yanked the thing from her neck, breaking the clasp in her haste, and went to put it back into her pack, the very bottom of it. Sighing loudly, she straightened and looked at herself once again in the mirror.

She couldn't give him his mother, but maybe she could give him the next best thing.

...

She had no idea how long she had drifted.

She had no idea where she was.

She had no idea what to do.

Memories . . . jumbled at best, and non existent at worst. She remembered heat, fire, pain, and she remembered anger, in fact, she still felt angry, she burned with it, she couldn't remember why though.

She was cold.

It was ungodly cold.

It was teeth chattering, lips bluing, finger numbingly cold.

There had been a fall, then hands on her . . . pulling her away from the light . . . pulling her into the dark; the cold; the deep.

She remembered it though, obscenely clear. At first she had thought it was a great white shark, it's skin was blue, rubbery, and smooth like that of a shark, and it's eyes obsidian black, not just the center like hers but all of it, it had no iris or white. It's fingers were webbed and clawed, and the strange, grotesque gills on it's neck opened and closed as it breathed. Black hair, long black hair like seaweed floated around it's head, and it's chest and underbelly had a lighter, bluish white coating it.

She had screamed, she couldn't help it, and wasted all the oxygen in her system, and no longer had breath to fight with.

She had struggled; tried to reach the surface, but he wouldn't let her go. He towed her deeper and deeper into the underwater darkness, further and further from the shore. There was no air, no way to reach the rocks, she felt herself drowning. Her vision had blurred, and the images swam as her brain shut down.

Then there was nothing but blackness.

The ground was bitterly cold, and she rolled onto her back, and the discomfort faded. She tried to open her eyes, but only one complied.

Ice. Everywhere.

That was almost worse than the water . . .

She remembered her head pillowed on the horrid creature's chest, it was swimming on it's back, dragging her and stroking the water strongly with it's free arm. There was no shore in sight anywhere on the horizon, and the water was chilled.

Snow . . . She was clearly no longer in the warm, tropical waves of the . . . where had she been? It was on the tip of her tongue, just out of reach.

I must have come from SOMEWHERE . . . she thought blankly, It was the most monumental place in the world . . . I just . . .

There had been someone else.

Someone important.

Someone important she had to find, or had she found her already?

Something grunted, and she swiveled her head, her cooperative eye falling on the thing, the monster. It was laying on it's stomach on the ice like some sort of blue ocean seal, propped up on it's elbows. It had no legs . . . how had she not noticed earlier? That seemed like something important. Opening it's mouth in a mimic of a smile, it revealed row after row of sharp teeth. It had to be copying what it had seen humans do, as it didn't get the motion quite right, and the result was more sickening than reassuring.

Rearing up like a cobra, it leaned closer, and she instinctively tried to move away. Instead of coming towards her though, it crawled back to the water, dragging itself on it's hands and . . . tail.

"Next time we meet, Granddaughter, I'll kill you."

...

Someone was banging on his door.

They all just needed to leave him alone. He wanted to be alone. Why wouldn't they leave him alone?

"Fire Lord, the Bounty Hunter June wishes to speak to you."

"I have nothing to say to her." Zuko called vacantly and pulled the blankets up over his head.

"Oi, Zuko-"

"Fire Lord Zuko." The guard corrected her.

"I found Ursa's ostrich horse," June continued as though he had not said anything, "I have her things, but I guess if you won't see me, I can go throw them in the ocean and be done-"

Both doors flung open, and the disheveled, puffy eyed, unshaven Fire Lord emerged.

"Give them to me!" It was the first bit of interest he had shown towards anything in over a week.

June grinned, usually men were easy to handle if you gave them the proper incentive. If they do something right, they get a reward. Of course she hadn't learned that in the context of dealing with men, but rather training her Shirshu, but dog-moles and men were surprisingly similar on their most basic levels. June reminded herself to get the water bender an animal training scroll for her wedding present, as the Fire Lord responded very well to the commands.

"I don't have them WITH me, the bags are in my room. Why don't you wash up and shave, and I'll show you what I found?"

"No, we'll go now. Which guest suite are you staying in?"

"Jeez. Zuko, have some respect." June crossed her arms and pretended to look horrified, "These are your mother's things!! You're going to show up with a week's worth of sweat and tears and grease to paw through them? What's wrong with you?"

He glared at her for several minutes, then turned to his guard, "Summon my staff, have them pick out some clean robes and lay them out on my bed."

"And tell them to bring new sheets while they're at it." June told him, crossing her arms and switching her weight to her right hip.

It took less time then expected. The servants bustled in and out, drew the curtains, hauled the drapes open, and generally brightened up the room. As she waited in the hallway, June mulled over whether or not anyone had told the haughty little boy that his girlfriend had split a few days earlier. Probably not, he was being such a jerk to everyone that they had been giving him his space. June rolled her eyes, she had buried her father herself after he had been killed. Her and Nyla had dug and dug and then she had dragged his body into the hole, and she had buried him and then she had cried and cried. Then she had gotten up, washed the dirt off her arms, and seen about finding herself and Nyla some dinner, as life must go on.

Dusting himself off, Zuko stumbled out of his room for the first time in almost a week, squinting in the sudden light. June nodded in unenthusiastic appreciation.

They walked in silence, and the older bounty hunter wondered if she was supposed to say something. All his friends had been trying to talk to him with mixed results, and she decided that if they couldn't console him, she had no chance at all of doing so either.

"Here." She pulled the saddlebags out letting them dangle precariously from her first two fingers. She swung them back and forth tantalizingly, and the young man's eyes followed them like a cat.

"Watch it!" Zuko grabbed the bags, his hands shaking.

"You might want to go through them in your office." June crossed her arms smugly, amused by his carrying on, "Your servants are bustling through your rooms right now, you know, cleaning stuff, you'll get zero privacy."

"I'll keep that in mind."

Before the scarred noble could leave the room, however, there was a flurry of footfalls outside the door, and suddenly, Toph, Sokka, Aang, Momo, and Ty Lee burst in, nearly tripping over each other to simultaneously squeeze through the doorway. Ty Lee and Aang, were by far the most nimble, and made it first, Sokka, being the largest and most ungainly was trampled a bit in the process.

"See," Toph declared, "I told you he left his room."

"Zuko, I'm glad you're feeling better, maybe we didn't need to send for Iroh after all." Ty Lee bounced up and down and clasped her hands under her chin, her fingers laced in delight.

"Why did you summon my uncle?"

"Umm . . . Toph, didn't you tell him?" Aang shifted uncomfortably, as though he could sense a confrontation brewing.

"Tell me what?"

"I thought Sokka would. They have the manly bonding thing going on."

"But you were the one who was there!"

"Did you guys send a messenger hawk to him?" Zuko asked dully, "I haven't yet, I know I should have, I just . . . couldn't . . . I hope you were delicate about it. He is getting older, and it is going to be a shock. Though . . . I don't know . . . I think he knew already. He probably knew the instant she showed up on his doorstep that she was there to say goodbye."

Aang put a hand on the older boy's shoulder, "Well, we didn't send him a messenger hawk. Katara went to tell him the news in person."

Zuko visibly tensed, then snapped a short, "I'm going to my study," before brushing out of the room.

...

Katara leaned out into the wind, letting it wash away all her memories of the previous week. Since she wasn't a fire bender, she couldn't take one of the amazingly fast one person airships, and somehow got stuck with the whole royal procession, and it had taken longer than she thought it would. She had argued that she wasn't royalty, so would have no use for the entourage, but Zuko's steward had reminded her that Iroh was royalty, and it would be scandalous for him to travel on royal business without it. So the jaunt that was supposed to take a day or two was slowly stretching to the better part of a week, and it would probably be nearly a fortnight until they looped around and arrived back at the Fire Nation.

Ba Sing Se looked beautiful from the air, but she felt her stomach tie into an apprehensive knot as the ship glided closer and closer. What was she going to tell Iroh? How would she break the news to him? What if she couldn't convince him to drop everything and visit the Fire Nation? What if he blamed her too? Katara was so lost in thought that the sudden drop of her stomach that marked the beginning of their descent took her completely by surprise.

The tea shop, the redesigned Jasmine Dragon, was situated in the upper ring, in one of the most fashionable plazas. Therefore, it was a short walk from the aerodome, and shorter still because Katara ran most of the way. She had insisted, successfully this time due to the strategic use of bursting into tears, that the procession stay with the ship. Iroh would want to hear the news in private.

Since the afternoon was young, the cafe was filled with older men, most of which were playing Pai Sho with each other, and sipping thoughtfully on their mugs. Iroh was leaning over the board of one of the men, giving advice, a tray filled with tea mugs perched precariously on the fingertips of his left hand.

Katara cleared her throat, and Iroh turned, the cheerful smile that had played across his lips vanished, and was replaced with a look of pride.

"Young Lady Katara, please come in and have a seat," He pulled a chair out from one of the tables and motioned to it, "To what do I owe the pleasure of your company? Where is my nephew . . . or have you parted ways for now?"

"Thank you," Katara sank down catching her breath, then tried to whisper so the old men across the floor couldn't hear, "I need to talk to you, I have bad news."

"Of course you do." Iroh told her, sitting down in the chair across from her, "You were searching for Ursa after all. That woman has bad news tied to her apron strings. She means well though, now, tell me, did you find her?"

"She found me."

"Are you hurt?"

"I'm fine, but . . . Iroh, she's dead." As she talked, Katara picked at her fingernails nervously and looked acutely out the window, "Azula too, they burnt and drowned. I was . . . I should have . . . Spirits, I messed things up so badly."

"How is my nephew handling it?"

Katara looked up, searching the older man's face for hatred or blame, but he seemed only concerned; concerned and sad. With another long stare out the window and a deep breath, the young water bender fielded that one too.

"He's not well. He wont leave his room, he won't eat, he won't sleep, he's angry all the time or depressed. He's either a volcano or a zombie." Katara chewed on her lip, "He agrees that I'm responsible for Ursa's demise."

"I thought my nephew understood that finding someone to blame solves nothing . . ." Iroh shook his head, "Of course, old habits die hard, and In times of extreme stress, we tend to revert back to them."

"Iroh, I'm sorry, I know Ursa . . . I know she . . . and you . . . sort of . . ." Katara groped for words, " . . . were close."

"So, you came to deliver me the news in person?"

"Well . . ." Katara glanced over at the patrons again, but they seemed engrossed in their game, and paid her no mind, "A few weeks ago, Zuko was showing me things in his study . . . like, population charts, and trade routes, and he was talking about the recession the Nation is in . . . how the population is skyrocketing . . ."

"Yes, he and I have corresponded a good deal on the problems he faces." Iroh looked like he knew what she was going to ask, but was going to force her to ask it anyway.

"I think he needs help. He isn't in any condition to run a country, especially not a crumbling one." Katara's fingers had moved from picking at each other to playing with her armguards, "I know he wont be pleased about me asking, but I think he needs your help. I was hoping you would fly back to the palace and help put things in order. I know you have your tea shop that you want to run, but it won't be permanent, just a few weeks until he is back on his feet."

The old fire bender gave her a warm smile, "Of course, Katara, I would be honored to help Zuko, he is my kin, but you must give me a few days to shut down and board up the place."

"I was hoping you could leave sooner than that. It's a really slow airship. Why don't I stay and close up the shop for you?" Katara offered, she kept telling herself that she wanted to arrive a few days later so Iroh would have a chance to calm Zuko down without her. She knew she was lying to herself though. Deep down, she knew she was scared and therefore procrastinating.

"Oh, that would be lovely, I'll write down what needs doing." Iroh seemed just as anxious to be on the airship as Katara was to be off it.

"Wait! Before you go," She reached into her tunic and pulled out the necklace the woman had given her, "Do you know what this is? Ursa gave it to me."

Iroh stopped in his tracks, his features rested into a deep frown.

"Don't put it on." He told her, "Ever."

...

Sitting on his chair behind his locked study door, Zuko stared at the saddlebags, almost afraid to open them. Was this it? After a lifetime of living and loving, these two bags were all that was left of his mother's life? It blew him away how someone's legacy could be reduced to a few worthless things.

He undid the clasps reverently, and pulled out his mother's possessions. The change of cloths was old and ratty but there was no mistaking the high quality. They must have been expensive travel cloths when she first bought them. He buried his nose into them, breathing in deeply.

They still smelled like her.

Her lingering scent brought with it the memories, and Zuko felt his eyes sting again, and he quickly blinked them away.

Setting them aside, he pulled out an expensive comb, several of her hairs still clung to it, tangled between it's teeth. He turned it to catch the light, admiring the carving of the back, it was decorated with fire coral, and carved into the likeness of a dragon. Zuko recognized it as something his father had given her as a present when he and Azula were little. Ursa had cooed and fussed over it, and placed it into her hair, and Zuko remembered Azula had wanted to touch it, but Ursa wouldn't let her.

Next he pulled out a dagger and hurriedly set it aside. He didn't want to think about his mother hurting anyone.

At the bottom, the last thing he found was a painted picture, he pulled it out and unrolled it, and a leaf of paper fell out and fluttered down into his lap. Curiously, he picked up the slip of paper, reading the symbols of his name on the front. Holding his breath, he opened it.

Zuko,

Please do not search for me again, there are things about my circumstances that you don't understand. If things change, Azula and I will return to you. For now, behave as though we are dead.

I love you very much and always will.

Ursa

He read and reread it, losing count of how many times he had scanned the page.

It made no sense.

He folded it back up carefully and tucked it into his robes. Pulling his hair from his topknot, he massaged his head, trying to puzzle through it. What was going on?

Looking down, he saw for the first time the piles of paper stacked up on his desk. Reaching out he picked up the top leaf and read it. Maybe if I do a little paperwork, I'll figure it out.

...

Katara placed the last of the boards over Iroh's window and hammered it into place. It was pretty much the last thing she had to do. She had talked to a neighbor about when and how much to water the old master's plants in his garden, she had brought the vats of tea that were cold brewing to the basement and covered them, she had put the chairs on top of the tables and covered them, and she had talked to the baker about canceling Iroh's order for cakes indefinitely. The old man had been cranky about it, but refused to let her pay for the sweets he had already made, saying he would take it up with Iroh when the man returned.

One thing she had not done, however was to request an audience with the Earth King to ask for an airship. After a little thought, and then a lot of trying to talk herself out of it, Katara decided that she could go back on foot. She had crossed the country before, granted though, not all by herself. She did, however, feel perfectly capable of handling herself though. It seemed an especially good idea due to the fact that she seemed to be adding to the problem, and not the solution.

She had forgone the Emu Horse, and instead bought a buffalo deer. It wasn't just that they were native to the tundra of the north and south, she also felt that their four legged gaits were a lot smoother than the Emu Horse's two legged ones. It was a large male, and she could barely see over it's withers to brush and tack it, but it was soft, docile, and had such pretty horns.

Taking one last inventory of the place, making sure she hadn't forgotten anything, she led her new steed out to the front of the building and swung up. The Buffalo Deer, which she nicknamed 'Shaggy boy' in her head, tossed it's antlers and exhaled loudly.

"Oh stop." Katara muttered, "I don't weigh that much. Like you have any ground to stand on, you weigh like, a ton." With a squeeze of her leg and a slight tug on the reigns, Katara was off, destination the Fire Nation, by way of Omashu.

...

The whole court was waiting at the balcony to see the homecoming of General Iroh, Dragon of the West. News traveled fast among the courtiers, and they cheered as the airship came into view. Zuko, standing on the sidelines, felt only annoyance. He wished Katara had not run off to get his uncle. It made it look like he couldn't handle governing the Fire Nation by himself.

Iroh walked down the gangplank and bowed to him, then placed a hand on his shoulder, giving him a friendly pat, and the Fire Lord's annoyance dissipated. Good naturedly, he returned the gesture, he really had missed the old coot.

"Zuko, It's been too long." Iroh fell in step beside his nephew as they made their way back into the palace, "I am sorry for your loss."

"Our loss."

"She will be missed. How are you handling it?"

"Ok, I guess."

"The lovely Lady Katara said that you were blaming her. She was most distressed about it."

"It's her fault." Zuko snapped, his happiness dissipating like smoke, leaving him feeling hollow and resentful.

"Is it now?" the old man asked rhetorically, then fell into a thoughtful silence.

They had reached the palace, and the guards bowed as they passed. Falling back a step, Iroh let the Fire Lord lead the way.

"Come with me to my study, and I'll show you the market graphs, I have been having trouble feeding everyone. I'm going to have to cap the children a woman can have or everyone will starve during the rainy season. I'll have the staff move your luggage to one of the guest rooms," Zuko droned, "They already know where Katara's things go."

"She did not return with me." Iroh told him, "She volunteered to stay and close up my shop. I think you have given her a bit of a fright."

Zuko frowned, "That's not like her."

"She'll be along soon enough," Iroh scratched his chin, "I have heard some rumors that you and she-"

"Enough, Uncle."

"May I ask a question?"

"What?!"

"As far as I heard from some of the ranking generals, you and Katara tried to find Yon Rha before the war ended. Why?" Iroh asked, stroking his sideburns.

"We didn't try to find him. We did find him. He killed Katara's mother and I wanted to . . ." Zuko trailed off, suddenly unwilling to finish the sentence. He quickened his pace, trying to outrun the rest of the conversation. The guards in front of his office stood to attention, and one opened the door for the two Noblemen.

"Why would you search for him?" Iroh asked, then turned to thank the guard as the man closed the door behind them.

Zuko sighed, tapping a pile of papers, straightening them, "I don't know, she, well, she was mad at me. She blamed me for Kya's death."

"Hmm, interesting." Iroh held out his hand, and Zuko gave him the stack of papers.

"I know what you're doing!! Stop it! You can forget it!!"

"I'm not doing anything," Iroh told him innocently, "When were these numbers drawn? Yesterday?"

"You are trying to make me feel guilty!"

"I'm trying to make you see clearly through the clouds of anger and sadness behind your eyes." Iroh scratched his stomach and sat down in Zuko's chair, reaching for a pen.

Zuko grumbled something about stubborn water benders.

"I'm sure you will make the right decision and make me proud," Iroh told him, then when Zuko glared, he pointed to one of the papers, "as to whether or not to pass this bill."

They worked in silence for a little over an hour, or, more accurately, Iroh waded through the paperwork while Zuko pretended to read the reports piled up. He couldn't concentrate, his mind kept wandering back to Ursa's letter to him. He hadn't been able to think of anything else for the past few days.

Finally, sitting there with Iroh, it dawned on him. Ursa had wanted to fake her and Azula's death, that's what the burning and fall had been. There was no way to plan it, Ursa must have improvised and sacrificed her skin for her safety. She must have hit her skull on the rocks accidentally as she fell.

The rage struck him so abruptly that he stood and screamed a mouthful of fire, creating a huge scorch mark on the ceiling. Turning he grabbed the chair he had been sitting on and threw it across the room. It created a satisfying crunch when it made a hole in the wall near the door.

"Zuko!! What are you doing?!" his uncle ducked, surprised at the sudden, unprovoked outburst.

Ursa had meant to fake her death!

That meant Azula was still alive.

That meant his mother's murderer was still alive.

"She's alive!"

"Zuko, Ursa is gone, she rests in the spirit world with-"

"Azula's alive!!" Zuko banged his fists on the desk so hard that the papers jumped, "Where's Katara?!"

"Nephew, I believe you're overtired, Katara is in Ba Sing Se, Azula is at the bottom of the ocean." Iroh walked over and put his hands on his nephew's shoulders, pressing him down into another chair, "You should rest."

Zuko obliged, sinking back down into the chair, but he shifted restlessly back and forth, eyes still blazing, mind working furiously. Where would the tides have dragged her? Where would she run? She would need medical help, where would she find it? Did she really survive?!

...

As Zuko paced down the hallway, a somber Sokka was waiting for him at his door. The younger boy kept touching the hilt of his sword anxiously, and his face flooded with relief upon seeing his friend.

"Can we talk?"

"Can it wait?" Him and Iroh had finally caught up with the economy, and the older man was really proving his mettle, solving most of the problems that had left Zuko stumped. The whole process was exhausting.

"No." Zuko watched as the younger boy crossed the room and pulled the curtains, letting the morning light flow in. "Katara hasn't come back yet."

"I know." Even though he kept his voice calm, Zuko felt a twinge of panic. He hadn't wanted her to leave completely. He had just wanted to hurt her feelings, to make her sorry.

"She isn't coming back."

"What?! She's coming back. What makes you think she isn't?!" How could she run away and leave him alone? Why would she do that to him?! He had thought she was more honorable than that, running away was beneath her.

"It's been three weeks since she left to fetch Iroh, so where is she? Listen," Sokka confessed, "There is something I didn't tell you that night that you asked about our Mom. Remember? Before you both went to find the Southern Raiders?"

Zuko paused, taken aback "What?"

"Katara was the last one to see her alive." Sokka looked at his feet, tracing the floor with his toe and looking guilty, "I . . . well, I held it against her for a long time."

"So?"

"Well," Sokka reddened with shame, "I never told her outright that I blamed her for our mother's death and that I hated that I didn't get to say goodbye and she did. I acted it though . . . For a few years, I was a jerk about it to her, I wouldn't talk to her, or if I did I made snide comments, I would hide her things and tell her she lost them, I would push her in the snow when we played 'chase'. I was confused, and sad, and we were only little kids. It's water long under the bridge now."

"So?" Zuko repeated again.

"'So?'! So, I think she has a little bit of a complex about it!!" Sokka yelled, ". . . and she's run away."

"She left weeks ago, why didn't you tell me then?!"

"Toph told me she had gone to get Iroh in Ba Sing Se, we thought it was an errand. It wasn't until this afternoon that I realized she wasn't coming back."

"How did you figure that out?" Zuko asked, unimpressed. Surely Katara would borrow one of the earth king's air ships. She was friends with the Avatar and an honored hero that fought in the war. Of course the Earth King would supply her with what she needed.

"Follow me."

Zuko glanced longingly at his room for a moment, but the stress of Katara's alleged desertion outweighed his fatigue, and he stumbled off after his girlfriend's older brother. He was walking him to her room, the one he had given her, though Zuko could not for the life of him understand why.

"I went in to make sure that her cloths were cleaned and the fruits replaced for when she came back." The water tribesman explained, "and that's when I figured it out." He pressed the currently unguarded door open, and pointed for Zuko to enter first.

At first, the Fire Lord didn't notice anything out of place, and he had no idea what Sokka was going on about. Her cloths and possessions were all neatly laid out on the table where she had left them, probably from inventorying what she wanted to take with her for the few days she would be airborne. The Fire Nation silks were in a neat pile, next to them were an extra pair of travel cloths, training cloths, extra under wrappings, sleeping dresses . . .

Then he spotted it, a glint of blue against the burgundy of her pillows.

Her mother's necklace.

...

Katara flattened out the map on the grass, near where her mount was grazing.

"See, we crossed the ferry a week ago, then we went south west, so that should put us about . . . here." She pointed to the outskirts of the Si Wong desert, "Maybe we can reach Omashu in another two weeks if we're lucky, we'll have to stay at the oasis for the new moon though. Spirits I hate planning around this girl time."

The draft animal shook it's ears placidly, then scratched it's nose on one of it's feathered ankles. With a sigh, Katara turned back to the map, her eyes falling onto a farmiliar dark green squiggle.

"Or, you know, we could swing by the swamp, it would only take a few extra days." She told the beast, "You wouldn't like it there, Shag-stag, it's so hot, we would have to give you a haircut . . ."

Katara chewed her lower lip, although she had been joking, suddenly, she very much wanted to go back to the foggy mire. She wanted to see her friends again, she wanted to finish learning swamp style bending, and she wanted to bitch to a bunch of women how stupid Zuko was behaving.

The desert part of the detour didn't take long, after staying her bendingless moon time at the oasis, they just bore a little more to the south than they needed to. It wasn't long before the sand gave way to mud, and the mud gave way to marsh. The Buffalo Deer's large feet were surprisingly deft at staying on top of the mud, and his long fur kept the bugs from biting him. Unfortunately, the beast did not seem to fully understand the concept of 'vines' and Katara repeatedly needed to untangle the creature's horns from the forest canopy.

Since she was approaching from the east and not the north, Katara had little bearings as to how to find the temple to the moon. All she knew was that she felt like she was going the right way. She spent days wandering blankly, and was about to give up, when out of the blue in the last of the sunlight, she and her pet stumbled onto the bank of the temple lake.

...

She tried to sit up, but her body didn't cooperate. Her back, the backs of her arms, her legs, the right side of her face, it all wouldn't move, it all hurt. The ice she lay on felt good against it though, and she managed to roll so that most of her was flush against it.

Opening her working eyelid, she looked at her hand and screamed. Or tried to. Her throat was raw, and little sound issued forth from it. The appendage in question was swollen almost beyond recognition, it had soaked up the water and her skin had expanded painfully. Flipping it over in horror, she found the backside was white, jagged, and serrated, oozing fluids even though she was freezing. It was dotted with scabs and peeling skin, and it too had doubled in size. In places along her arm, her skin was torn, and she could see the white glint of bone poking through.

This time, the scream came.

She pulled herself onto her elbows, intent to stand and run, but the pain of all her weight on the burnt flesh was too intense and she collapsed back down onto the ice. Her shrieks of terror melted to sobs of pain, and then dissolved into hyperventilation. With her energy spent, her eyelids became heavy, and she felt sleep settling in on her, a sleep she wouldn't wake up from.

"May the spirits be merciful!!"

Opening her eye, she saw a figure, she hadn't heard him walk up over her sobs, but he must have heard her screams and come running. He was tall, dark, clad in furs, and in one of his hands he clutched a spear, the other hand was clamped firmly over his mouth, intent on keeping the contents of his stomach, well, in his stomach. His hair was shoulder length and black, and she knew she knew his species, but couldn't remember where. What she did feel clearly was the sudden surge of superiority she felt. How dare he behave in such a manner? How dare he become nauseous at the sight of her!

"What happened to you?!" He finally inquired, "You look half drowned . . . and half charred . . ."

"I don't remember. I fell . . . somewhere." She glared at him with her good eye.

Crouching down, he seized her chin, and she screamed again, fresh pain cutting up her burnt cheek where his thumb pressed.

"Gold eyes." His dark eyes turned disgusted, "You're Fire Nation aristocracy." He began stripping off his parka, undoing the furry ties in a hurry.

"Don't touch me!" She commanded, how barbaric would one have to be to rape a dying girl?!

"Ha! Don't flatter yourself," He snapped back, although her chest and torso were surprisingly unmarred, and had her face not been burnt beyond recognition, and her heritage clearly undesirable, he might have considered it, "I wouldn't touch one of your kind with a ten foot pole, I almost drowned a year ago during the siege. You need to see a healer, I'm taking you to the medicine woman. Stand up."

"You idiot," Her temper flared, and the ice around her began to hiss and melt, "Don't you think I would have stood up already if I could?"

He didn't appear to listen to her protests, he took one of her arms and forced it into the parka, ignoring her verbal tirade. Her vision swam again, this time from the pain of having something pressed against her, and she dropped back into blissful unconsciousness.

...

It was nightfall by the time Katara reached the temple, but many of her acquaintances were there to meet her already.

"'Tara, ya cut your hair!"

"Where's Zuko?"

"What's that animal? It's so perdy!"

"Y'all okay? Ya look sad."

Katara tried to field the barrage of questions the best she could, explaining that it was a Buffalo Deer from the north pole, that she didn't exactly cut her hair, and that Zuko was in the Fire Nation. The led her into one of the common areas and one of the girls left to fetch her cooler cloths, and Katara proceeded to fill them in on what had happened after they had left the swamp. She recounted questioning Ozai, fighting Azula, and then Ursa's untimely death and Zuko's anger.

As she suspected they would be, the girls were quick to chime in about what a jerk he was being, and Katara found herself defending him. She started saying that it was all her fault anyways, and the tears fell, hot and fast.

"Wait here, 'tara." Yeo stood, "I 'ave somethin' that is goin' ta cheer ya up!"

"Y'all should stay here fer a while!" one of the other's suggested, "Until ya'r feelin better."

"I can't. I need to get back, just a few days. I wanted to say hi to Vel and Fae while I'm here."

"Actually, they'all're not 'ere right now, them n a few o the older priestesses went ta the North Pole shortly after y'all left," the third explained, "After hearin about the mistreatment of the youngin girls there, they decided to extend the offer of sisterhood to 'em."

"I'm sure the men will appreciate THAT . . ." Katara muttered, remembering their chauvinism and becoming annoyed at the thought.

"Unfortunately fer them, it ain't their choice."

"Here we are!!" Yeo sashayed back in with a bundle in her arms, "Lil baby no-name, She ain't got a name yet, on account o- er, well, we call her 'Bean', fer two reasons, first, cause she is lumpy like one! Come have a look see, 'tara!!"

Katara stood and leaned over the sleeping infant, and her heart warmed a little. She was so adorable with her dark hair and little tiny nose. She couldn't have been more than a few weeks old.

As she watched, the baby opened a pair of large, slanted, gold eyes, and wailed. As she did so, a crackle of green sparks leapt up from her balled hands, and Katara yanked her head back, startled by the sudden heat.

"Oh yea . . . tha's the second reason we call her 'Bean' . . . cause of the fire bein' the wrong color 'n all." Yeo clarified, smiling and tickling the baby's stomach with her free hand.

...

Azula's bits are meant to be jumbled, since she cannot remember much, and she keeps blacking out.

Why is the pain not unbearable? Azula is mostly numb, she has been naked on the ice for hours.

PLEASE NOTE: I do NOT recommend you google search 'third degree burn' to get an idea of what her body looks like.

I do not recommend it at all . . . ::shudders::

...

Sorry for the long wait, I accidentally burnt my fingers at work, (Oh milk steamer, why did you betray me?!) and haven't been much for typing.

Luckily though, school is starting up again, and this will lead to an increase of productivity. I'm not sure why I get more done when I am busy with school work, but I do 

...

Anyways, leave me one (review) and let me know how you like it!!