Midsummer Madness Chapter 31: The Snake Tattoos, 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 31

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"Ohhh, Whooo's shooooo cuuutiee? So, where is her mother?" Katara asked half in baby talk, as the infant sucked happily on one of her fingers. She had followed Yeo out, and the two had discussed everything that had happened while they were walking along the muddy lakeshore.

"Er, 'ell . . ." Yeo suddenly looked uncomfortable and began to toy with one of her necklaces, "She went inta labor 'n the last new moon . . . none 'o us had our bendin, an' even if we did, we don' think we coulda done much. She . . . she bled out."

Katara stared at her blankly.

"She died."

"What?! But, don't your men know healing? Why didn't one of them help her?!" Katara stopped, staring at the other woman, horrified. Another mother died?! How many more?

"Well, y'all weren't here for the new moon, but, the men folk tend ta take a 'huntin' trip round then cause, well, we all have the same cycle, and most of us get a little cranky all t'geter." Yeo scratched the back of her head, "So they make 'emselves scarce."

Katara clutched the child tighter to her chest, protectively, "So . . . what happens to her?"

"She goes ta the Sun Warrior's Temple as soon as she don' need 'er wet nurse no more." Yeo explained, "They'll give 'er a name and raise her up right, you ain't got to worry about a thing." Yeo gestured with her head for Katara to come, and the water bender grudgingly began moving again. As they walked, the swamp bubbled and they both coughed in the sudden stench.

"Why don't you send her to her father?" Katara asked, "He lives in Ba Sing Se."

"Ya can't just bring him a child and throw it at him, he ain't got no idea the li'l Green Bean even exists. Ye plan ta just drop a bomb on him like that? No. She belongs ta the sun warriors. It's tradition."

"It's not MY tradition. It's not HER tradition." Katara mumbled, then glanced out over the green and let out a small, strangled scream. She wasn't sure how she kept from dropping the child out of shock, she chalked it up to maternal instincts, and the startled infant began to wail loudly.

"'Tara, what in the-"

"Look!!" Katara readjusted the child against her and pointed, "It's Hama! What is she doing here?! She is dangerous!! You cant let her stay here!"

"Oh! Yea." Yeo followed her gaze. Hama sat on the ground, rocking back and forth, knees pulled to her chin. Behind her, one of the older women was working on her, her healing waters engulfing the woman's temples as she read her. Another younger one sat cross legged in front of her, apparently working on her hands, though it was hard to tell from the distance what she was doing.

"What is she doing here?!" Katara repeated and didn't bother to mask the hostility in her voice.

"Ain't it obvious? She's here fer healin', her mind was busted up pretty bad. Her hands and feet too. She is gettin' better though, or she was when Vel was workin' with her, she's been sorta plateauin' lately. Keeps mutterin' bout men fire benders 'offerin her a drink' in jail."

"She would! You shouldn't have let her here, she isn't safe. She'll hurt someone."

"From what Vel gathered, she was a prisoner fer the Fire Nation fer years. Poor thing, I can see why she hates them. We hear tell what happens to pretty young ladies when they're in jail, but ya cant just hold on'ta anger like that, it poisons you." Yeo looked pointedly at Katara, and the water bender fumed, not liking what Yeo was implying. SHE did not hold onto anger like that. Usually.

"You sound like Aang." Katara grumbled.

"Why do y'all hate her?" Yeo asked curiously, subtly lifting the baby from Katara's arms in case she tried anything stupid that could result in accidental baby crushing.

"She . . . she taught me a technique. A hideous one." Katara shook her head, "She called it bloodbending. It was an abomination."

"Oh, Yea, Vel found that in a memory too, we're all hopin' ta learn it from Hama once 'er mind is stable again."

"WHAT?!" Katara was yelling by now, her voice cracking, and Yeo was starting to look a little taken aback, "I thought you were all about peace and love, I mean, even your bending style isn't combat centered! It's a dance, for the love of the spirits! How can you condone using blood bending on a person?!"

"Have ya ever stopped ta consider that there is good 'n bad in everythin?!" Yeo had raised her voice a bit now too, mainly to compensate, "Bendin ain't good or evil, it's USED fer good or evil. Bloodbendin aint no different! Y'all could use it to staunch bleedin, fer performin' transfusions, fer keepin' blood from floodin' a shattered area, fer reducing swelling, we think it may ev'in help contain sepsis! Why are ya so black 'n white Katara?!"

It stopped Katara in her tracks, she hadn't ever considered the practical applications of the technique, only the impractical, invasive ones. She felt her face flush with shame, and she turned away from the priestess, refusing to yield.

"Oh, don' throw a pity party, come on. Y'all can visit with Hama once she ain't sick in the head no more." The older girl patted her on her back, "Prolly ain't a good idea fer her to see ya now, don' wanna stir up any bad memories."

"So, what's a transfusion?" She finally asked, after they had walked in silence for several minutes.

"Well, when one person loses too much blood, it's basically takin' blood from someone else 'n putting it into them . . . only, bloods don' always mix so good. Sometimes it works, sometimes it don't . . . we ain't sure why." Yeo had begun tickling Naj's baby's stomach and cooing to her softly.

...

"You have to go find her!!" Zuko yelled at June's back as the bounty hunter saddled her Shirshu. Once the nagging had started, June decided that Nyla was rested enough to head out. Really there was no bed in existence soft enough and no free food rich enough to compensate for having to deal with the Lord hotman and his yearning for his estranged girlfriend.

"No." June tightened her girth placidly.

"I'll pay you your shirshu's weight in gold!!"

"Look, I've had about enough of your idiocy." June glanced over her shoulder, "I'm not taking the bounty. Find someone else."

"Why the hell not?!" Zuko was desperate now, "Double Nyla's weight in gold."

"Sorry. I have a date with a sword master that I have been trying to land for years." June adjusted a stirrup.

His shoulders sagged, and he ran his fingers over the stone of her necklace, "I just . . . I really need to apologize to her. Don't you have a heart?!"

"No."

"I'm sure she'll turn up, Nephew." Iroh interjected, "These things have a way of working themselves out."

"And what if she doesn't come back?!"

"Sucks for you." June finished her adjustments and swung up into the saddle, "Maybe you should put up wanted posters for her. That's pretty much the same as hiring a sword."

"I don't think-"

"I am sure the Lady June is kidding, after all, what woman would not be angry after being hauled across continents back to her impolite boyfriend by a bounty hunter. Let her come back to you on her own, Lady Katara is very brave, and I doubt your boorishness could scare her off for long." Iroh chided him.

Zuko growled to himself in frustration and turned back to the palace proper. He was hurt that Katara had vanished, and annoyed that she hadn't seen fit to write him. He couldn't blame her though, she probably thought he never wanted to see her again. She probably thought he hated her.

"It's been a long time, Uncle, nobody has heard from her." Zuko nervously toyed with the cuff of his robe, "What if she is hurt, what if she is in trouble. It's not like her to run off."

"You really have no idea where she could have gone?" The Dragon of the West smiled serenely at his nephew.

"Why am I so bad at this?!" he asked himself wearily, "Either I am throwing fireballs or I am throwing insults. What if she decided she hates me again? There has to be a reason she isn't coming back . . ."

"Nephew, you are still very young." Iroh told him as they walked, "You will learn how to handle yourself better with women in time. Remember how far you have come since that lovely girl Song?"

"I know."

"I was hoping you were no longer in need of my help. I am anxious to return to The Jasmine Dragon and reopen it. Perhaps you will allow me to embark tomorrow?"

Zuko turned to look at his uncle with his good eye, "Really? So soon?"

"You seem to be back on your feet again, the country's economy is stabilizing, and I see no reason to stay."

"Okay, I guess I'll arrange a convoy for you."

...

"But, you can see she isn't a danger to anyone in her current condition."

"I don't care! She's a murderer!! Arnook is going to send word to the Fire Lord that she's here as soon as we're positive it's her!"

"Well, until then, she ain't bein' moved! She ain't in no condition fer prison, 'n now she's sleepin, y'all'll just have ta wait ta question her. Y'all even sure she is Royalty?"

Three voices. One was the man, the one who had found her, the one who had forced her tender skinned limbs into the heathen furs he had worn. She no longer felt them scratching across her wounds, but it was hard to tell, her skin pained her so immensely that it was hard to think of anything else. Thankfully, whoever laid her down had put her on her stomach, her good cheek pressed into the blankets, and she felt a cool, soothing caress across her back that eased the hurt.

"She's got those yellow eyes like a man eating arctic wolf! I don't know any more about her than that, I don't NEED to know any more about her than that. Believe me, she is royalty. The letter said that they were both incinerated alive, and she looks pretty disgusting, though, she wouldn't have to be burnt to be repulsive."

It was then that she decided that this arrogant son of a mongoose dragon was her new arch enemy. Nobody talked about her like that, no matter what she looked like. Opening her eyes, she tried to roll over.

"Oh, no, Sweetie, You have to lie still, we're trying to heal you. Some of the scars we can get rid of, but sadly, most of them will be yours to wear for the rest of your life."

"Now look what ya did, ya brute! Y'all woke her up!"

"I can wake her up if I want, she is MY prisoner!! I found her dying carcass!!"

"Well, right now she is MY patient, and I say, y'all can't see her until she is well."

She opened her good eye and tried to yell something insulting at him, but ended up provoking a small but excruciating coughing fit instead, and drenched her fingers with phlegm and salt, and whatever else had worked it's way into her lungs. So much for instilling fear into his very soul, he seemed more amused by her physical agony than anything else. His expression communicated the sort of smugness one felt when they looked at someone who was getting exactly what they deserved.

"Look! Yer upsettin' the patient!! Ya need to get out o my hospice!!" The lanky, fair one was yelling at the warrior furiously, but he seemed unphased. His disrespect only seemed to make the crone angrier.

"She is a murderess, a thief, a liar, and a lunatic, who cares if she is put in a jail cell to rot?! So what if she loses a limb or two to gangrene, it might actually improve her attitude."

"OUT!!" with a sweep of her wrists, the snow under the man's feet conveyed him out the door, and then with another flick, the door was barred by a huge column of ice.

"Well . . . I didn't think it was possible for someone to drift from the Fire Nation to the North Pole. Not even from the northernmost Islands, but it seems you did."

She shifted, touching the skin of her face and was immediately sorry, the pain was severe and immediate.

"I'm Yugoda." The first, dark skinned woman told her, bringing her a glass of water and bending it to her mouth so she could drink, "The woman who just disrespected our traditions and threw out an honored warrior-" At this the accented woman muttered something apologetic, "-out, is Vel. You're very lucky to be alive, what's your name? Do you remember it?"

Name? She knew she had had one at one point . . .

"I don't know . . ."

"Oh my," even though she said it, Yugoda didn't seem surprised, "Well, what do you remember?" As she spoke, she smoothed the water across the girl's ravaged shoulder blades and neck.

"I remember . . ." It hurt her head to think about it, but she tried anyway, her own determination spurring her on, "I remember playing volleyball on a beach . . . I think I won."

"Anythin' else?" the lighter crone asked, her voice carrying the strange, rural accent.

"Falling . . . then, then nothing." She decided not to tell them about the shark man. For some reason, she really really did not want to be considered crazy.

"Too bad," Yugoda sighed, "You're in the Northern Water Tribe. You're badly burned, at least sixty percent of your body. Vel and I have been working around the clock, and we've managed to patch you back together for the most part, at least none of your muscles are exposed anymore. You must have drifted for nearly a week before Hahn found you washed ashore."

"He's the arrogant ass?"

"He is the Honored warrior, ex-fiancé of the Princess Yue, and veteran of the Invasion. He's a bit worked up now that he's found out . . . well . . . who you are."

"So, are you going to tell me?"

"It's best if we wait until yer a bit stronger." Vel came over, holding a bowl of steaming jook, "Ya should eat somthin, see if ya can't keep it down."

Even though her stomach growled audibly, after two mouthfuls, her stomach twisted and she felt a wave of nausea hit her, and she refused any more. It was divinely unfair to be crippled with both hunger and nausea simultaneously.

"Are you sure you don't want more? You need to eat something substantial to regain your strength."

"How long was I out?" It was a struggle to stay awake, all she wanted to do was drift back into oblivion while her body repaired itself. It felt . . . familiar . . . to have two older women above her, fussing over her, and she felt safe.

"It's been almost three months. Y'all have been feverish n delusional fer most of it, tossin and turning and screamin' like a madwoman." Vel shifted to run her waters over the girl's calves and the back of her thighs, "Damn near drove the other patients out of their mind, we had to move you into your own room lest one of 'em smother y'all with a pillow to get some shut eye."

"I want to see my face."

"Y'all don't want to see it yet." Vel cut in quickly, "Let us heal it a bit more, ye'll be perdier."

"Get me a mirror." She was resolute.

The two women looked at each other, then Yugoda shrugged and crossed the room. She rummaged in something, probably a trunk, and returned a moment later with a small, hand held mirror.

She gazed in horror at the monster looking back from the reflection on the glass. One side of her face was perfect, smooth and pale, the other was a cavernous mass of scar tissue, scabs, and ruined skin. Her hair was short and patchy, no longer than an inch, and large bald patches were visible where her skin was still just too ruined to grow hair yet. Disgusted and repulsed, she set the mirror down flat on the bed and pressed her face into the pillows, ignoring the pain that exploded behind her cheekbone and lips.

The two older women exchanged glances again and then both filed out of the room. For this she was grateful, although she missed the soothing touch of the water they manipulated, she would have been humiliated if they stayed to watch her weep.

...

Katara had not meant to stay so long. She had not planned to do more than swing through in a roundabout course to Omashu. At least that's what she told herself, but days turned to weeks, which turned to months.

In the afternoon light, she perched on one of the large roots of one of the bangrove trees and watched the swamp children run around, playing in the mire. They had invented a game that seemed to involve mostly screaming and throwing handfuls of mud at each other. It was odd, watching the small girl crawl around, screaming in delight as she played with the other children.

"I know what yer doin, and I can tell ya now, it ain't a good idea." Yeo sat down next to her,

"I'm not doing anything!" Katara protested, pretending to fuss with her braids and loops.

"Y'all're gettin' all attached to her." Yeo frowned, "She'll be off her wet nurse soon, 'n one o the priestesses'll take her to the Sun Warriors Temple."

"I could take her." Katara volunteered, "She likes me a lot."

"Yer not a priestess, 'Tara." Yeo told her, "Yer no' her blood family neither."

"I know, I know."

Somehow though, she felt responsible for the little girl, and that feeling was what compelled her to stay longer. She felt like they were family. She felt like she had an obligation bring the girl to meet her father. Unfortunately, the older women did not take her seriously, they were sure that no Fire Nation Nobility, even nobility as jolly and easygoing as Iroh, would accept a half Moerae child.

Katara, however, was a firm believer that women became mothers at conception, and men became fathers at birth. He just needed to see her for an instant and she was sure he would fall in love. If Iroh didn't want her after that, then she would bring the girl to the Sun Warrior's temple herself without complaint. She would even help them initiate and name the sweet little spark-hiccupping girl. Unfortunately, only a Sun Warrior or a Moon Priestess could take the infant out of the swamp without being considered a kidnapper by the clans. It was a project though, and helped keep her mind off of her memories, and helped the time pass quickly.

"Zuko went to visit the Sun Warriors once." Katara spoke, trying to strike up a new conversation, then jumped up to separate two boys whose play fight was turning into an actual fight.

"UUUhjgghg," Yeo groaned loudly, "Ya know I love ya 'Tara, but, we're all gettin' sick o hearin bout him."

"Sorry." Katara mumbled as she put the two squabbling children in time out.

"Okay, okay, tell me bout yer ex's adventure in the Temples o the West."

"Well," Katara chewed her lip, "Actually, all I really know is that he and Aang learned a technique called the Dancing Dragon. He tried to teach me it once, we ended up falling in the river . . . I still remember it though . . ." Katara stood and closed her eyes, trying to conjure the steps in her head. Slowly, she mimicked the movements, stopping every few seconds to correct herself, "Wait, was it this next . . . or do I go down . . . hmm . . . I think, then this . . ."

When she finished, Yeo bounced and clapped, and surprised at the attention the water tribeswoman was getting, the toddlers began shrieking with delight and turned their mud pelting on the older girls.

Relaxing back into Temple schedule was easy, and Katara had been obliged to pick up where she had left off, learning swamp style bending and teaching pole style. Her sixteenth birthday came and went, as did Toph's fourteenth, and she felt guilty that she didn't contact the earth bender. A group of four teenaged girls from the North Pole even showed up one day chaperoned by High Priestess Fae, muddy and bedraggled, but eager to learn what had been denied them in their home country.

She instantly became popular with them, as she had studied under legendary bender and renowned chauvinist Master Pakku. Everyone, it seemed, wanted to study with the Avatar's Waterbending instructor, everyone wanted the bragging rights. The next time that Fae left, this time to make a trip to the Southern Water Tribe, Katara slipped a letter into the older woman's hand, asking her to drop it off at the nearest village she passed with a Hawkery.

Eager to pull her own weight, she picked up chores, watched the children, helped trap and gather food, and even learned a few of the Swamp's guarded techniques, how to read the twigs, how to trigger an artificial power surge using herbs and chanting, and how to make the special drinks that dispelled fertility. After a few months and constant badgering, she broke, and agreed to join in the celebration of drawing down the full moon. She didn't last very long, slipping away from the dancers and the drums before the celebration had even reached full swing. It just didn't feel right without Zuko as her dance partner.

"Again 'Tara?" Yeo whined, as they both picked at their evening meal of swampweed, possum chicken, and flies, "Why 're ya torturin' yourself over this monogamy. Ain't like y'all are officially handfasted 'er nothin'. Thought he pretty much left you after yer mother finding fiasco. It was just a summer fling, wa'nt it? Maybe it's time y'all moved on?"

"I'll be fine." Katara turned and glared at Yeo, making it plain to the older girl that she had crossed a line.

"Ya sure? It's the spring equinox, it means that the hot season is starting again, you don't want to celebrate the coming of the hot weather with a hot man between your thighs?" Yeo held out a half of a coconut shell full of their birth control mixture.

"I'll 'celebrate' it by myself." Katara muttered as she took a long sip, whether she planned to dance or not, it was Temple rules that she drink the stuff. She had usually celebrated the full moon by babysitting the kids until they fell asleep, then taking a long walk into the swamp, finding a cold pool to lie in and freezing it.

"You know, ya can't fight it fer ever, the moon tugs on you, n' sooner or later, yer going to do something ya regret because y'all keep denyin' yerself."

"I'm not a slave to the moon, I can control myself."

"Been four moons you've dodged it, yer comin to this one. Y'all wanna be a full priestess, y'all gotta . . . you know . . . participate in our ceremonies!!"

Katara stared at her friend for a long time, then her shoulders slumped in defeat, "Okay. I'll dance, but that's all."

Yeo grinned victoriously, "Been meanin ta ask ya, can ya can give me one of them tribal piercings? They're gorgeous, 'n I am jealous."

"They're not very practical." Katara grumbled, her mind still on the concept of joining the sisterhood.

Yeo dug in one of the pouches she had on her hip, "I been tradin' with those gals from up north, they been real keen on our swamp beads, n I been sweet on their bone carvin' skills. Check it out." The Priestess pulled out a handful of Water Tribe jewelry.

"They're beautiful." Katara held out her hand and then examined them with half interest, "Pretty good quality too, this one is pretty thick though, I would file it down. Usually the men make a necklace for their bride, but it's up to a girl to make her dowry."

"So y'all know how to poke the right hole fer it?"

"Yes, I know how to do it, the women of my tribe would do them a few months before their weddings, I think it was symbolic. Of course, You don't HAVE to be engaged to do it, it's just tradition." Katara sighed and stared into the water, poking at her reflection with a stick.

"So, Wha's a 'dowry'?" Yeo asked, then held up a horseshoe carving with the moon engraved on it, "Oh! this un' 'ere's my favorite."

"A dowry is jewelry, skins, clothes, blankets, anything really, mostly valuables, money, or things that will be useful for the newlyweds in their new household."

"Tha's barbaric! Makin a gal pay to marry a man she don' wanna." Yeo huffed.

"Well, their definitely burning their beast bindings now, so to speak," Katara smiled at her friend's indignation, "trading their dowries and celebrating the Full Moon."

"I'll go boil some water." Yeo stood, gathering their empty plates.

"Even if I heal it up afterwards, I don't recommend you letting anyone put their mouth on it for a few weeks." Katara told her with a small smile.

"Ok, ok, We can do somethin' tame . . . Ya can pick out a few that ya want, there's too many there ta all fit on my body."

"I don't need any jewelry." Katara insisted, but by the time Yeo had gotten back with a steaming, sanitized coconut full of water, Katara had already sorted them into piles according to where they went, gauge, and general, overall awesomeness.

...

Three scrolls were perched on his desk when he walked in that morning. One was rose colored and embossed with meticulous, gold leaf calligraphy running down the rolled edge. It was clearly a formal invitation to his cousin's wedding. He put it aside without even opening it. He knew the when and where, and he had already contributed substantially to the bride's dowry, mostly in the form of mutant Fire Nation Exotic animals. Who knew if you bred a cow hippo and a cow pig you would get a strange creature dubbed a 'cow'?

The second was from Kyoshi Island, and he put that aside too. It was probably Sokka writing him to tell him how Suki was doing and how much Kisa was moping since Ty Lee and Aang had set out together to scour the Earth Kingdom for air benders.

The other was sealed and bore a crest from the Northern Water Tribe. He hoped against hope that it was from Katara, sending him some sort of news, contact information, he would even take a written scolding and berating, he was so desperate to hear SOMETHING.

He had carried her necklace around with him for weeks after she had vanished into the night, but after leaving it in his robe pocket accidentally, (and subsequently tearing apart the laundry rooms looking for it) he decided to leave it in the drawer table near his bed where it would be safe. His mother's comb had also taken up residence there, along with her last letter.

Falteringly, the Fire Lord unraveled the Water Tribe letter, his eyes skimming over the page.

It was not from Katara.

In fact, it was the very opposite, instead of his chest flooding with relief, he felt it tighten in rage. He almost incinerated the letter accidentally as he exhaled a lungful of smoke.

They had her.

The murderous bitch had survived, and they had her. Hollering for a courier to fetch him a bird from the hawkery, he grabbed for a quill and parchment. What should he do? Did he want to drag her back here to be executed? Did he want them to take care of it? Did he want to give her a trial? Was it wise to let the public know that she was alive?

The ink covered nib, poised and ready sank lower, and his grip on it relaxed as he began considering his options, and what would be best for his country. Better that his people not know she is alive until after the last pockets of resistance gave up. With her "dead", the Ozai supporters had lost a lot of power and influence. They were dwindling down to almost nothing, but discontent was still rampant. Taxes were high, morale was low, and people were angry about the child limit he and his uncle had instilled . . . not that most families could afford more than one child with the recession.

So, dragging her back to the Fire Nation for a public execution was out, even though it was his personal favorite option.

He didn't want to ask them to carry out her sentence for him, mainly because he wanted to see her. He wanted to look her in the eye and ask her vindictively why she did it, if it had been worth it, and if she felt better now. He wanted to see her before her sentence was carried out, and he simply didn't have the time to take the royal procession north.

Maybe . . . an idea began coagulating in his head, Maybe she is good where she is for now . . . He didn't have to request for her to be extradited. He could leave her there to freeze. What better place for a Fire Bender to be detained than a glacier full of water benders? She could stay there and ice up until he had the time and the resources to deal with her properly.

Reluctantly, he began composing a reply. He would ask them to keep her in whatever prison facility they had until the political climate in the Fire Nation had smoothed over. He would send them a stipend for her upkeep, and would appreciate a general update on how she was. Nothing too detailed, just whether or not she was alive.

He dated it, sealed it, and then handed it off to one of his pages.

Satisfied he had made the right decision, and silently hoping Arnook would agree to the request, he picked up the invitation. All it meant was a pointless and time consuming visit to Ba Sing Se. It would put him behind schedule, and he would have to work overtime to compensate. The only good part of the whole thing would be that he would get to see his uncle and his friends again for a few days. The palace was empty now, Entourage Avatar had dispersed across the globe again, save Toph, who had taken on a job in his guard as a high ranking interrogator. When he had asked her why she wanted such a job, she had replied that she was the best suited for it, as she could tell when people were lying, and that 'sweetness' had asked her to keep an eye on him, which she fully intended to do.

Although he had been productive, he had also been lonely and depressed, and missing his friends.

...

"You sure you're up for it?" Katara chewed her lip nervously.

"Yea, I am." Yeo was shaking a little, like she usually did when her cycle ran high, "I need the extra power to be able to bend properly."

"Alright, if you're sure."

"Anyway, Bean is goina be eight months next week, 'n she'll be leavin. If y'all really wanted to take her to her papa, it's now 'er never. Gotta wear the marks to walk the path."

"That makes no sense, I know the style, I've lived in the temple for months, and you're telling me a little curly cue snake is what is going to change these women's minds about my ability to baby sit an infant? I thought you were supposed to be wise!!"

"Look 'Tara, tha sisterhood wont entrust the safety o' one of ours to'n outsider, simple as that."

Should she do it? She had never actually considered jumping on the bandwagon and joining the sect the first time she visited. She wasn't morally opposed to the idea by any means, it just wasn't something she saw herself doing. The longer she stayed, however, the more pride she had in the place, and the more it felt like home.

Once she showed up at Iroh's door, everyone would know where she was. It was terrifying. She would have a lot of explaining to do, especially to Sokka and Aang, (And Zuko if he decided they were on speaking terms). They would probably be pretty annoyed, and Sokka at least would not think that was a good enough excuse for vanishing for nearly a season. Aang probably would, but Aang usually let her do whatever without really being angry at her afterwards. She hoped that the letter she had asked Fae to give to Sokka when she reached the Southern Water Tribe had soothed his rage a bit. He had not sent someone to fetch her, that was a start, wasn't it?

The ceremony to join the sisterhood was simple, it could hardly be called a ceremony at all. They forged their way to the grandfather tree in the center of the swamp and climbed to the top of it's roots. Since it was dark, they set up a circle of candles to light them as they moved, and then several sticks of incense to keep the bugs away from her arms as she was being inked. She had had to repeat a few verses that Yeo recited, she had to drink from a chalice that contained a liquid that tasted suspiciously like blood and herbs, and she had had to take a vow of secrecy, and make a promise to protect the swamp. That had been the easy part.

In all her years, she had never fully appreciated how exhausting it was to get a tattoo. It made her gain a lot of respect for Aang, and his commitment to his bending and his spirituality. The pain was intense, and it was a slow process. Yeo had charcoaled in the snakes, and then bent the Ink, froze it into a needle, stabbed, defrosted, and withdrew. Wash, rinse, repeat. After a while, it felt like the priestess was stabbing into an open wound, and Katara was sure that the dripping fluid on her arm was not extra ink.

The steady pain, the screams of the swamp birds, and the rush of the wind, and the ripples of the water below lulled her into a kind of trance. Slowly, spots materialized in front of her eyes, then they grew to an all encompassing blackness.

She was kneeling at the Spirit Oasis, watching Tui and La circle each other. Looking up, she saw Azula kneeling opposite her, the girl's skin slowly melting and dripping off of her. Grinning the same, superior smile she always had, the princess pointed at her.

"Don't be so disgusted pretty Lady." The Princess sneered and pointed, "You're not so porcelain yourself!"

Katara looked down and screamed. Her arms were burnt and ragged, the tender skin ruined all the way to her shoulder. In her panic, she slipped on the snow, falling headfirst into the oasis. There should have been cold, but it never manifested, and a pool floor, but she never collided with it. The fish were growing larger and larger, circling her, tossing up a current that dragged her to and fro in their wake.

The creatures opened their mouths and displayed row upon row of sharp teeth, ant the scales of their body shifted, changing from something aquatic to something reptilian. Larger and larger they grew, until Katara realized that instead of two fish, she was being circled by two dragons.

Opening their jaws, they began snapping at her, It was clear that they weren't trying to bite her, rather herd her to where they wanted her to go. Cooperating with them, it wasn't long before her head broke the surface, and she crawled onto a foreign shore. The sand stuck to her wet arms and legs, and she began trying to brush them off.

"Katara?"

She looked up at the mention of her name, and recognized the Fire Lord's silhouette standing over her. He was tall, taller than he should have been, and she craned her neck back, trying to make out his face, but the sun blacked him out. What she did see was ropes twining around him, anchoring him to the ground.

He bent down stiffly and offered her a hand, which she took gladly. His fingers closed around hers and . . .

"Done!"

Katara snapped awake, at Yeo's voice, nearly rolling off the roots as the dream released her from it's clutches. The sun was rising and the candles had burnt themselves out by the time she had finished, and both girls had been too exhausted to trek back to temple grounds, so they had slept uncomfortably on top of each other on the roots of the grandfather bangrove tree.

The first thing she noticed when she woke up from her early morning nap was the huge serpent god was coiled in the branches, looking down at her, it's multiple sets of eyes calculating. Katara didn't care how sacred he was, it was damn creepy to watch girls sleep. The second thing she noticed was the complete lack of sound in the woods. She detangled herself from Yeo, and stood to meet the god.

"What are you doing here, Spirit god?" she asked respectfully, bowing her head.

Welcome, my new disciple, I see great possibilities in your future. It's heads returned the gesture, and I see terrible potentials. You will breathe new life into those that breathe life itself, and you will mend a net to catch the wind. The serpent's multiple heads turned away then, and it coiled higher into the tree, disappearing from view. As it left, the normal sounds of the swamp started again, the animals once again stirring.

"Yeo!"

The older priestess grunted as she was shaken awake, "'Ya can go back ta sleep."

"Yeo, I had a dream. I think . . . I think I've stayed here too long."

...

None of the other patients liked her.

None of the healers liked her.

She was sure of it.

The women working there and their apprentices were always on edge around her like she was dangerous. Nobody would talk to her for very long, so she would sit in the corner of the infirmary, waiting for meal times, medicine doses, healing sessions, and for one of the women to come around and help her rub her dry, peeling skin down with seaweed lotion.

It was the least favorite part of her day, the rubdown, she had to expose her whole jagged and disfigured back to one of the healers, and they would rub the lotion into it. Usually they would flee right after, usually only Yugoda would stay and offer to help loosen her skin. Slowly but surely, her range of motion was increasing, unfortunately, she knew by then that what she saw in the mirror was what she got, no amount of healing water would smooth her skin, the scars were permanent.

Sometimes she remembered her days and where she was and why, sometimes she did not. The other crone, Vel, had been moving the water around her head every day for months, and the blackouts became sparser, but her memories never returned, in fact, they got blurrier.

It was an odd, at times painful sensation, having someone else in your head, and sometimes she got wind of the other woman's memories. They smelled of heat and decay and water, and something felt familiar about it. She knew wherever she had come from, it had been hot. They had said she was royalty. Hahn had said it, and then when the men had questioned her, they had confirmed it. Unfortunately they refused to tell her either her name, or her crime. She knew she murdered someone, she didn't know who or why, but she was confident in the fact that they had deserved it, and that she had been right to do it.

The days dragged by, but she hardly cared, and she would fall into bed at night, feeling empty and forgotten. Wherever she had come from, nobody was looking for her, nobody wanted her back. She had no family, no memory, no name, she was nothing.

It was one of those nights that she heard them, it was Yugoda and one of her older apprentices. They probably thought that she was asleep and that they were whispering low enough.

"It really is unnerving, the way she watches us walk around the hospice with those eyes. It's damn creepy. The other patients can't get the rest they need when they know she is in the room. You have to do something, Yugoda. Maybe it's time we sent her to the Ice prison. She is well enough for it now, we can send someone over to administer her treatments."

"Physically, yes, she is well enough, but, her mind is still delicate, it might always be, and Vel told me that while she was in her head, she made sure her memories were blocked. That woman is a master of whatever it is she does, and if she locked up the girl's mind, I doubt she is dangerous to society."

"You don't know what she is capable of!" the apprentice was insisting, "Who would do that to themselves? Who burns themselves like that?"

"Vel examined the memories closely while the girl was feverish, she told us all in detail what she found." Yugoda whispered back, "The poor thing was so angry, she lost it, tried to escape the embrace by lighting them both up. She thought that her mother would let go of her and they could, I don't know, pull off their clothes and stamp out the flames, but her mother wouldn't release her. So, who is at fault? The woman who started the fire, or the woman who prevented their escape from it?"

"Are you sure we're talking about the same woman here? She's a monster. We all know it. She would have killed her whole family if she wasn't stopped, instead of just her mother."

Mother, her hands tightened in the covers, I killed my mother? The vague, nauseating hatred washed through her again, and settled in the pit of her stomach as she strained to remember whether it was directed at her mother or herself. All that her mind conjured was the smell of burning flesh and the terror of a freefall.

"You hold your tongue, If you keep telling a child it's a monster, it won't be long before they start to believe you." Yugoda's tone was stern, "and I have not worked my team raw saving her skin to have her once again convinced of this."

"Yes, ma'am."

"I'll see what I can do to get her out of the way tomorrow, maybe . . . ." Yugoda had started walking down the hallway, and the apprentice followed.

Rolling onto her back, she stared at the ceiling, and waited for the oblivion of sleep, but it never came. Her mind was too busy trying to assimilate and rationalize what she had heard the women gossiping about. She was still staring blankly at the ceiling when Yugoda bustled in the following morning with a tray of food.

"How are you feeling today, sweetie?"

It was a routine that they repeated every morning. When she didn't answer, the old crone shifted her weight and bent a slab of ice up next to the bed, then set the tray down on it.

"I brought you some stewed oysters and sea prunes for breakfast, our fishermen pulled them up this morning."

"I don't want it." she snapped, the same as she did every morning.

"You have to eat something, sweetie, you're very weak." Yugoda persisted, pulling a chair up to the impromptu table, "Remember a week ago when you were strong enough to walk around the hospice?"

"The food here is disgusting."

"Well, aren't you the picky eater!" Yugoda bantered as she siphoned the herbs into the tea, Although the old healer would not force her to eat her food, she would force her to drink the tea that they brewed, and she had learned the hard way that they would resort to bending it down her throat to make sure she got the proper dosage. She knew they were drugging her, but she wasn't sure why.

"I'm sick of sludge and bottom feeders."

"Sometimes the warriors will hunt the Turtle Seals, but they decide who the meat goes to." Yugoda told her kindly, "If you get strong enough, you could go hunt one yourself. It would be good for you to get some fresh air and exercise, plus, I'm sure the other hospice patients would appreciate the extra protein."

"Don't be obtuse. I don't know the landscape, I don't know what a turtle seal looks like, and I don't know how to hunt."

"Then perhaps taking a walk around the grounds would be a good start for you. Eat your breakfast, ALL your breakfast, and I'll let you out for the afternoon. It'll help you to stretch the scarred tissue on your legs out properly."

Yugoda was trying to get rid of her, the old crone wanted her out of the hospice for a few hours so the other patients could breathe easy. The idea of a change of scenery and the sun on her back, however, proved to be too much for her stubborn streak, and she swung her legs out of the bed and hobbled over to the table. The food smelled even less appetizing than it looked, but she lifted the warm bowl with both hands and began to sip it cooperatively.

When she was done, Yugoda had already found a spare parka for her, and waterproof pants and boots. It always struck her as odd how everyone wore heavy furs indoors all the time but she never seemed to need one. Unless the temperature dropped below zero or the wind chilled the air, she never felt the need for anything above the worn, blue woolen robes.

"Here you are, I think this will fit you well enough."

She looked down at the backs of her hands, scarred and ragged, and shook her head. Her face flushed and she pulled her shirt sleeves down over them. Were the scars really self inflicted? Did she hate herself that much?

"Come on, you'll be wearing mittens, and a hood, nobody will see your scars. You'll just catch a bit of fresh air in the yard, it'll be fun. You can watch the benders practice down the way . . . stay on the hospital grounds though."

Finally, she relented and allowed herself to be bundled in a heavier coat. The feel of the skins on her reminded her of the boy who had pulled off his coat when he found her. She went outside and her nose tightened and froze as the temperature dropped. He must have been shivering the whole ride back to the camp with her, it was an oddly chivalrous gesture for someone who obviously hated her so completely.

'Watching the benders practice' was putting it generously. They were small specks way down the hill across the tundra, and she had to strain to see anything at all, let alone the details. The moves, however, reminded her of something. She couldn't quite place it though . . . it was just . . . familiar.

Looking back at the hospice, she decided nobody would notice if she went and got a closer look. After all, Yugoda was a busy woman, and most of the other attendants were all probably secretly praying for her to fall into a precipice while she was out. Carefully and awkwardly, as the skin around her joints was stiff and didn't like to bend, she skidded down the slope to the icy turf where they were practicing.

She could do it too, not exactly, but similar. What was it? She chewed idly on one of her fur gloves, trying to remember. It was important. She had been good at it. It was blue like water, but, not.

"Hey! Girls can't crash the men's bending class, you're not supposed to be here!!!" Something grabbed her roughly on her arm, and flung her around violently.

Without thinking, her body seemed to react on it's own, and without really planning to, a burst of fire erupted from her fisted palm and shot wildly past her assailant's ear. Her aim was off, luckily for him, mainly due to her stiffness. It was starting to come back to her . . . the fire . . . how she could make things burn . . .

"What the fuck!" Looking up, she saw the grey blue eyes that belonged to the warrior, her savior/nemesis. He was pale with fury, his free hand had drawn back into a raised fist, but he was stalled in a hesitation, probably deciding whether or not it was ethical to hit a woman, weighing the fact that she had just attacked him, she was a murderer, and a fire bender into the equation.

She didn't wait for him to decide, dropping to a crouch, she swept her leg in a circle, taking his out from under him. Her muscles remembered, even if her brain did not, and she easily broke the hold he had on her, twisting back and away. With a grunt, he landed hard on his back, the snow knocking the wind from him. Unfortunately, moments later, her quads gave up the ghost, and she lost her balance. Before she could topple, she grabbed for the Warrior, who had rolled onto his side and was coughing, his lungs still in shock. The men practicing had dropped their stance, and were hurrying over to see what the scuffle was about.

"Get OFF me, Azula!"

Glancing back at the hospice and the safety it provided, (or more accurately, the safety the angry crone with the weird accent provided) she leaned forward and shifted to her knees next to him, grabbing the chest of his blue fur coat.

"What you just said, Is that my name?!"

"Let me go!" With more force than she thought he would summon, he shoved her to the side and sat up, dusting the snow off of his jacket curtly, "Yea, it's your name. If I were you, I wouldn't be proud of it." He was angry, she could tell, but was trying to maintain a certain superiority. He was trying to act like she wasn't even worth it, like she didn't even matter.

"What's going on here, Hahn?"

"Nothing."

She stood, suddenly uneasy at being surrounded. She knew if Hahn said she had attacked him, (which she sort of had), she could be in a lot of trouble. As far as she knew, he was an important man from a wealthy family, he could probably have her fed to the sharks. Looking around, her brain made instinctual calculations for her, they were benders, they would need to bend the snow up from the ground and liquefy it before they could attack, doing that and dropping into stance would take about 1.75 seconds. She could kick the one directly two paces in front of her in the head, then pivot and elbow his neighbor before he recovered, that would take about 2.3 seconds, then she could drop to the ground to avoid the first wave and . . .

"Did she attack you?"

There was a long hesitation, and she tensed to fight, two of her fingers folded over invisibly inside her mittens, and she unlocked her knees. The anger in his eyes, however, turned to a disgusted grimace, then pity. He shook his head, slowly, as though he didn't want to.

"I asked her to show me a move."

The tenseness of the crowd eased a bit, and she let out a breath. That was odd. Why would he lie to protect her since he obviously hated her guts?

"Come on, Azula, I'll walk you back to the hospice. Wouldn't want you to wander off and fall off an ice precipice." He spat, pushing past the other men and grabbing her arm again, starting to drag her back up the hill. She wondered briefly if there had been some sort of communication about her preferred demise.

"Weird, usually he doesn't bother to remember Fire Nation names." She heard one of the men whisper to another.

"Ha! Show him a move my ass, he just doesn't want to admit that he just got schooled by a little girl." Another gloated back, and she felt Hahn's grip tighten, and saw his back stiffen.

Well, that explained the lying.

"She did not!" He whirled around, glaring at the benders, and Azula took the opportunity to remove his hand forcefully from her arm. She did not like to be grabbed.

"So, what's this? The second time you were batted around by the Fire Nation?"

Was it just her, or did there seem to be a bit of rivalry between the benders and the warriors. Nothing seemed too out of line, but there was a distinct competition between the two factions.

"I wasn't batted around, and she is my prisoner! Chief Arnook promoted me a rank for capturing her!!" he gloated, "What rank are you?"

"I'm not your prisoner!" She understood struggling for the favor of a leader, but this was ridiculous. They were talking like she was a bargaining chip in a popularity contest! The filthy commoners had no right to talk about her like that!

"Husband." One replied, making an hand motion that she didn't quite understand.

"Finding her was just a lucky break." Another one of them scoffed, shaking his head, "And she isn't your prisoner if she can beat you up and escape."

Hahn rolled his eyes, "All of you stop, I'm your senior-"

"Why? Are you worried that I would obliterate you?" The taunting jab was out of her mouth and into the ether before she could think better of it, "Because we all know I could."

Everyone quieted, looking from Hahn to her then back.

"I don't fight girls."

"Well, If I'm willing to make an exception, you should be too." She crossed her hands over her chest, smiling a conniving smile.

"Everyone take a break. Practice is over. Everyone off the field." Hahn snapped, "Except you, Girl."

They stood in silence as the benders cleared the area, neither breaking eye contact. Neither one wanted to be the first to back down. She was so engrossed with standing her ground and preparing for an argument, that when the physical attack came, she was totally taken by surprise.

She barely managed to leap out of the way of the strange orbed club when he recovered and threw a punch. It hit her hard, and she staggered a few steps before finally finding her stance again. Almost instantly, the blue fire flared to life at her fingertips, and she dodged backwards, letting her muscle memory be her guide.

After a few minutes, of attacking and dodging, they were fighting in a pool of ankle deep, freezing water, and her muscles were screaming in protest. It was clear he had her on the defensive, and she knew it. It wouldn't be long before she collapsed in complete muscle exhaustion . . . if she even lasted that long. Almost on cue, she stepped the wrong way to stay out of his range, and she felt a knee jerk into her stomach soundly. It was accompanied a fraction of a second later by an elbow jammed down into her back like a hammer.

Azula collapsed soundly into the snowy water, gasping for breath.

When she opened her eyes, she found herself looking down the shaft of the heathen club he wielded.

"I don't know what the hell you think you're playing at, and I don't know what stories those medicine women have been filling your head with," he told her, his voice colder than the ice she lay on, "But you're a prisoner here, not a patient. Do you understand that? You're a lunatic, You're a danger to my tribe, and I won't hesitate to kill you if you provoke me again."

"Not in your wildest fantasies would you ever be able to kill me." She didn't bother to mask the distaste in her voice as she hiked herself up onto an elbow, both hands clutching her stomach. "Cremation, drowning, and exposure couldn't end me, I doubt very much you could, misguided sentinel."

"You scoff, but you're your own prisoner in your own mind. You can't even remember who you are. Get up."

"You said my name was 'Azula'." His hatred hardly phased her. She dragged herself up to her feet, completely soaked, her hands still clutching her aching core.

"Go back inside and don't bother us again." Hahn pointed towards the door, "None of the boys want to be distracted by a hideous, mutant of a girl while they try to practice."

It took her the better part of an hour to stagger back up the hill it had taken her minutes to walk down. Nobody seemed surprised when she pushed through the doorway sporting a new black eye and a ring of bruises around her waist. Nobody was surprised when she spent the rest of the evening sitting on her favorite chair in the corner, watching everyone and sulking. She wasn't even surprised when she was forced to drink a both larger and stronger version of the tea they made her drink, and she wasn't surprised when it made her vision swim and her brain unfocus.

What was surprising was the very next morning, after breakfast and the daily lotion ritual, Yugoda again suggested that she go out for a walk in the yard.

...

Ok, so chapters up I ended up having to break it into two, I thought I would be able to wrap up the story arc in one. But ah well. Live and learn.

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I'm hoping it came off in the chapter. Azula's personality is basically the same, but she cannot remember much of who she is or where she came from. She is also being drugged to keep her a bit more manageable.

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I am going to update as soon as I can, but probably not until after the 8th of February because I am going to be at the New York Comic Con!! Whoo!! But that means I have a lot to get done by then.

I'll be cosplaying DotBS Katara (with brown eyes), so, if you're going, be sure to say Hi!!

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I love hearing from everyone, it's really great to know if you're enjoying the story or not. I hope you liked this chapter!!

Review!! ---