CHAPTER 5

"In the inaccessible mountain range by way of desert untrod by human foot, the breath of the everlasting creative spirit is felt, rejoicing over every speck of dust that hearkens to it and lives."

-Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

CORRIDORS

EDESSA PALACE

"I am not a young man, Katara," Iroh said as they twisted through the palace. His papery voice carried in the marble hallways. "I have seen the face of evil…I have seen death… happiness, truth, light… and I know what is right and what is wrong. As for my nephew," he continued, "he is young. And still learning the paths to justice and good."

Where is he going with this? Katara wondered.

"He has lived a hard life. I was there for the majority of it. I saw him try to hide his tears over his parents death, and helped him conspire to regain his throne. He's conflicted." He chuckled. "I can imagine that you are wondering, 'why is this man rambling to me?' And that is because while he may be able to force a young woman to compromise herself for his own sake, I cannot."

He stopped suddenly, and turned around to look at her. "I can see inside you that you are good. You know the path to benevolence. I saw that in you when you were standing in that market, waiting to be sold to the highest bidder. You can teach him what I have failed to do."

Shell-shocked and stunned, Katara stood in front of the old general, confusion wrinkling her brow.

"And that is why I am giving you a choice," he said. He reached into his tunic and pulled out a small package, and placed it in the ground in front of her.

She looked down towards it, then back up at him. "A choice?" she asked, still slightly bewildered.

He nodded, a small smile on his face. "Yes. I cannot in good conscience take you somewhere you do not want to go. It is not who I am. Zuko knows this, but he asked me anyway to come get you. Which is a mystery in itself," he mused. "Which goes to show that destiny doesn't care about thoughts or feelings. Like a sandstorm thundering across the desert, it cannot be stopped."

There was a pause as she digested everything. Then: "You're letting me decide if I go to his chambers?"

"I am letting you decide where you wish to be, and letting destiny take care of the rest."

The response, although enigmatic, was something that she had wanted since she arrived in Edessa all those weeks ago. Tears suddenly welled up in her eyes, and she blinked to try and contain them.

Before she could speak, he said, "In this pouch you will find enough money to last you several days. It was all I could manage last minute. If you decide to leave, I want you to be able to find your own happiness. And if you stay…" he paused, then shrugged. "My fondest wish is your happiness. Someone or something must clear the sadness from your eyes. In life, we often find that the future is far more clear than the past."

And then he was gone.

She stood there, unsure of herself and her present situation. Just like that? She thought. I'm free? She looked around. Iroh had left her near the Reception Hall, which was close to the servants entrance to the palace. All she had to do was walk over there, slip a cloak over her clothes, and leave. It was then that she realized that the choice Iroh had given her was not something spontaneous, but something he had carefully and cleverly thought out. He prepared money, and gave her the easiest way out of the palace, the one that had the least guards, and the one that should we be able to slip out of unnoticed.

The revelation made her want to cry all over again. A man who she barely knew, a blood relation to the man who was the cause and end of all of her current problems, had shown her kindness. Suddenly, she thought back to a phrase that her grandmother would always whisper in her ear after she had made some sort of benevolence.

So shines a good deed in a weary world.

All of the faces of her family swam in her mind.

Grandma.

Mother.

Sokka.

….Father.

She could go home, back to Samos, and try to piece together her life again. She could rummage through the ragged remains of her tattered world, and maybe, just maybe, find happiness once again. There wasn't a day that went by since her family and village's brutal deaths that she didn't think of them, didn't pray for them, and didn't relive every single bloody memory in her mind.

And here, in Edessa, when she woke up screaming in the middle of the night, there was no one to comfort her and tell her that she was safe. No mother to stroke her cheek, no father to hug her, and no brother to joke with.

Here, in this palace surrounded by people, she more alone than she had ever been in her entire life.

She thought back to the ultimatum Zuko had so unceremoniously bestowed upon her.

I want you in my chambers within the next hour.

He made her feel… everything. Not just cold, but warmth. Not just passion, but confusion. Heat. Anger. Hurt. Nerves.

After the abyss of devastation she felt in wake of her family's murder, all of those emotions were unwanted. Unneeded. They smothered her. And when she was with him, her family couldn't have been farther from her mind. The thought shamed her, and filled her with guilt. So when faced with her freedom or the swallowing passion she felt with Zuko that gripped at her heart and threatened to never let go… the answer wasn't as easy as she wanted it to be.

In the back of her mind she knew that her old life in Samos was obliterated. But something still pulled her back there. She felt like there was something waiting for her. Like the sea surging up over the beach and dragging sand back into its watery depths, the ocean called to her. It was the one place she had ever felt normal.

So that was where she would go.

Lifting her face to the wind, she closed her eyes and let it lightly tousle her clothes and hair.

Free.

Slowly, carefully, as if she was afraid this sudden moment of peace and clarity would be shattered, she stepped forward, picked up the small pouch that Iroh had left on the ground for her and walked towards the servants entrance.

SULTAN'S CHAMBERS

EDESSA PALACE

At the large mahogany desk in his office, Zuko's fingers tensed and curled into fists. He flexed them again before cursing under his breath. Maps were cascaded over his desk like the water thundering over of his fountains. Notes and letters and calculations rippled slightly in the breeze that floated in through the window. As much as he wanted to concentrate on his battle plans before his meeting with the visiting sultan and his council, it was futile. All he could think about was her lips moving softly under his.

He cursed again, louder this time, before abruptly pushing himself up from his desk to prowl over towards his balcony. He placed his arms on either side, and gripped them together as he stood and scoured the courtyard of the harem.

She should be here by now.

Her tardiness made his already boiling emotions hiss and surge within his body. In the pit of his stomach, there was undeniable heat at the prospect of seeing the woman who so enraptured him. But also… there was some sort of uneasiness. In any other situation, Zuko would have defined the emotion as nerves. But at preset, What do I have to be nervous about? This just proves that Jet was right, I have to get her out of my system!

The sound of footsteps wafted over towards his perch on his balcony. Scowling, he turned around, saying "It's about time that you got here. Do you have any idea how late you are?" As soon as the words left his mouth, he frowned in confusion. "Uncle?" he asked.

And it was his uncle, not the maiden of the moment, that stood before him. Iroh had a small smile on his face, and looked almost pleased with himself.

Zuko didn't have the patience to find out why.

"Well?" he demanded. "Where is she?"

Iroh's fingered the tip of his beard. "Prince Zuko," he began, "I find it strange that you ask a question that you already know the answer to."

What is he talking about? Zuko wondered incredulously.

"Now is not the time for one of your riddles, uncle. I sent you out an hour ago to go and find the girl. Where is she?"

Shaking his head, Iroh moved over toward the small tea service that was located behind Zuko's desk. "Demands and impatience are a small, bitter part of a man, nephew."

Trying to keep his temper in check, Zuko closed his eyes and counted to ten. When that didn't work, he counted to twenty. Thirty. Forty. Fifty. Finally, he looked over toward the old man calmly sipping tea in the corner. He watched him, studying his every movement before crossing his arms over his chest, waiting for an answer.

"You of all people, my own flesh and blood, should know how I feel about making another do what they do not wish to. I cannot force people, Zuko. It isn't in my nature. You asked me to fetch her, knowing this. And now you seem surprised by the outcome?"

"Where is she?" Zuko gritted.

"She is where she wants to be."

"Damnit old man, why can't you just give me an answer!" he exploded, pushing over a clay pitcher of water and shattering it into pieces.

Iroh heaved a deep sigh before daintily setting down his teacup upon its saucer. "Since I could not force her to come to your chambers, I gave her a choice. It was her decision. And as she has not yet come here, it seems she chose to leave."

"You let her leave?" he roared. "Are you crazy?" He put his face in his hands and Iroh watched his shoulders visibly tense with the anger that bubbled hotly within him. "I don't have time for this," he said suddenly. "I have to meet with Ala-abin in an hour!"

"I can meet with him," Iroh suggested.

"But you're not me! This is my plan and my fight! And because of you, now I have to worry about finding her and bringing her back!" The last word was punctuated by the heavy thud of Zuko's fist as he shoved it into a wall.

Iroh raised a brow. "You have never cared about a runaway slave before, Zuko."

"That's because-" He stopped, and let out a strangled sound, not wanting to finish the rest.

….Afraid to finish the rest. In his head, he answered bitterly, that's because when I touch her, she comes apart in my hands. She's beautiful. Spirited. Strong. And God help me, but I can't stop thinking about her.

Iroh smiled to himself. His nephew had finally found a woman. He walked over to Zuko, and placed a gnarled hand on his shoulder. "You are in no shape to plan a war, Zuko. She is probably still in the city. Why don't you try to find her? I can handle the meeting."

Zuko threw off his uncle's hand somewhat unceremoniously. "Why would I allow you to be in charge when you yourself have told me more than once that you hate this campaign against Zhao?

Iroh idly stroked his beard. "The way to a win a woman's hand is not through demands and harsh words, Zuko. If you want her, and you truly want her to come back to you, you need to whisper sweet words in her ear. Handle her tenderly, and let her go and do as she pleases. She will never be tamed by force." He chuckled. "It seems now that you, nephew, must make a choice. Do you want her enough to trust me at the meeting? Or would you give her up for revenge?"

Thoughts flew through Zuko's mind while Iroh waited for an answer. This war is all I have ever wanted. What I promised myself from the day my parents were murdered at the hands of that monster. It's what I've dreamed off.

….But no matter what I do, I can't convince Ala-abin to join me. I need his men. They're critical to my plans. As trained as my men are, they are no match for Zhao's mercenaries. Maybe… maybe uncle will succeed where I have failed. Maybe he's right. I trust him with my life.

….but what if he fails? What if he sabotages me and ends this campaign solely because he disagrees with it?

He wouldn't. He wouldn't betray me.

And… Katara.

….Katara.

The thought of her not in his life made him feel empty. It was sickening realization.

Finally, Zuko broke away from his ruminative thoughts. "I'm going after her. You're in charge."

This time Iroh didn't try to hide his smile. He nodded his head. "Each day you grow and discover more of yourself and find your own path in this world, I become more proud. Your decision is most honorable. I will not let you down, nephew."

Zuko narrowed his eyes. "You better not," he growled. "Or you will end up like the last man who betrayed me."

Iroh laughed to himself as his nephew prowled out of the room. To be honest, he was immensely proud of himself. Like a game of chess, he had played consort and prince, carefully placing them each where they needed to be. Iroh was no fool. Katara could teach Zuko things that as his uncle, Iroh would never be able to. Before she came, Zuko would never have dreamed of missing this final war meeting. And the fact that he was was testament to how much he wanted her. It was a step towards the right thing to do. To forget about his revenge, and focus on what his life in Edessa entailed. After all those years of exile and scheming, he had his throne. And now he was about to have his woman beside him. Maybe when Iroh looked into the haunted cerulean eyes of the girl when he first saw her in Constantinople he knew this. Maybe bringing her to Edessa was part of a grander scheme to teach his nephew how beautiful life could be.

"And that is why they call me General," he cackled.

BAZAAR

EDESSSA

The crowded, bustling streets of the bazaar were a revelation after weeks of confinement in the palace. Women haggled over prices, street vendors called out to her to come and try one of their items before she bought it, men laughed and joked as they wandered the market. She passed canopy after canopy, under which there was everything from piles of spices to carefully woven baskets. The street was a blur of color, textures, sounds, and smells. Katara drank them in greedily, her eyes dancing from spot to spot as her mind whirred along with the activity.

"Ah, you look like a woman who wants to try the best lamb in all of Edessa!"

Katara looked in the direction of the voice, and saw a plump old man standing next to a stall. In it sat two immense platters, one piled high with steaming couscous, the other with a newly roasted lamb.

"Even pretty girls the size of my pinkie need to eat!" he called.

Katara blushed and pulled the cloak she had taken from the palace tighter over herself. "Thank you for offering, but I'm a little bus-"

The rest of her sentence didn't matter as she was cut off by a sudden commotion farther down the street. There was loud crashing noises as vendors and shoppers alike dropped whatever they were holding. Curious, she squinted and tried to see down to the other end of the bazaar, and noticed people crumpling to the ground in order to bow. It was then that she saw who was stalking down the street. Her eyes widened in sudden awareness, and she took a step back in defense.

The old man who had sold her the lamb gasped and fell to the floor with surprising agility. When he noticed Katara made no move to bow, he hissed up at her, "What do you think you're doing? Bow and show your respect for our honorable sultan and protector of the city! Bow for Prince Zuko!"

Oh no. No… no no no! He's not taking me back to that hell! She turned around and broke into a flat out run.

"Katara! Wait! Don't run from me!"

Her feet flew over the dirt road, her carefully placed cloak flying open to reveal the clothes that she had been so desperately trying to hide. There were collective gasps as the people in the bazaar recognized her attire for a member of the harem. Trying desperately to ignore them, she kept running, her legs and arms pumping as she furiously tried to outrun her present. As people noticed her clothes, especially the guards that littered the city, many tried to get up and stop her, and stand in her way. She weaved and dogged through them, and had made it as far as the grand square in the heart of the bazaar before someone suddenly caught her wrist, and twisted her arm painfully behind her back. Katara cried out at the sharp pain, and her head shot around to see who had imprisoned her.

A guard was looking down at her, a smirk across his face. "Thought you could run?" he asked.

"Let me go!" Katara screamed.

"Oh no, we can't do that. What would the prince think of me, letting you run away on my watch?"

Katara wanted to cry in frustration. She had only had freedom for a scant hour, and now… now she was back to square one.

"You! Guard, let her go!" Zuko's deep voice rang out in the square.

She looked up, and saw him running towards her. In his royal clothes, sweat dripping down his face and matting his dark hair, he looked absolutely ridiculous. And in that moment, she hated him. She hated him for destroying this one chance that had been given to her, for taking away her freedom not once, but twice.

"But my prince…"

"Do as I say!" He yelled, barreling over the guard's rebuttal and coming to a halt directly in front of Katara.

The guard bowed, reluctance in every hard line of his body. "As you wish."

He released her, and Katara jerked her arm back, rubbing her wrist in the spot that the guard had roughly gripped it. She glared at him angrily, and he laughed and gestured crudely at her behind Zuko's back.

"Are you hurt?" Zuko asked, amber eyes searching her body for marks.

"Only my pride," she muttered in response.

"Good. I want to talk to you," he said.

"Well then, you go right ahead." she responded bitterly.

He glanced around the square, and saw every eye on him and Katara. They were giving them quite the show. "Alone. There is place, a restaurant not far from here with private rooms. Will you follow me? Please?"

She gave a ragged sigh. At least he's asking me and not demanding. "Do I have a choice, honorable prince?" she asked wryly.

It was then that he did something that shocked her.

He extended his arm towards her, his palm face up. "I'm giving you one right now."

Katara looked from his hand up into his golden eyes. The glinted in the desert light, shifting and seething as though alive. Was this the same man who demanded and took and plundered from her? Mesmerized, not knowing what else to do, she placed her hand in his. He smiled encouragingly, and closed his hand around hers. He squeezed it lightly, and his thumb brushed lightly over her skin.

"Come," he said, and pulled her along. They weaved and meandered past men and women and children who had swept into deep bows for the honorable prince and sultan of Edessa. After what seemed like mere seconds, Zuko took her into a small alley and pushed open a large wooden door. He stepped through and Katara followed. They were standing in a small courtyard, sunlight beaming through a large square hole in the ceiling of the building. Surprisingly, she and Zuko seemed to be the only customers there.

"Welcome, friends, to my humble-My prince!" There was another loud noise as the man greeting them clattered to the floor in a hasty bow.

"Could we please have a room?" Zuko asked.

"Yes, of course, anything my prince desires," the man responded hurriedly. Still bended at the waist, he got up and led Katara and Zuko to a small room off of the main courtyard. In the room was a low slung table, and surrounding it were cushions upholstered in fine silk. Zuko waited for Katara to sit down before seating himself.

"Would you like anything to drink? To eat? Tea? Perhaps a platter of-"

"We're fine thank you," Zuko cut in impatiently, and waved the man away.

When he left, Zuko turned to Katara. "Why did you leave?" he asked bluntly.

Katara eyes lowered, and a for a while she didn't say anything. Finally, she answered quietly. "You lock me up in the harem for weeks, belittle me in front of servants and councilmen, treat me like I'm some disease… why wouldn't I want to leave?"

His fingers lightly cupped her chin, and gently moved her head up so she was looking at him. They looked at each other before he said, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry for any pain I've caused you."

It was her time to be blunt. "If you're sorry then why do you do it?"

His hand left her chin to bury itself in his thick mane of black hair. "I have no excuse…. You're in my blood like some fever and…. And I know that when I found out you had left, I had to come get you back. I don't want you to leave, Katara. I don't know why… I don't know why I can't just forget about you and keep living my life the way I have for the past ten years. And even though I only met you a couple of weeks ago, I feel like I know you."

"You don't know anything about me."

"I know that I don't want you to leave."

In her lap Katara's hands twisted together. His words were so unexpected, so different from the man she had seen in the past couple of days. Maybe she had misjudged him. Maybe he wasn't the pompous ass he made himself out to be. Maybe…. Underneath all of the roughage and seemingly tough exterior, this man that he was showing her now was what lied beneath.

…Maybe.

Samos could wait a little longer. The sea will always be there, waiting her return.

"Will you grant me a boon?" she asked.

He paused, before responding, "Name it."

"I'll go with you and stay in the palace, but under several conditions. I can't stay in the harem. I can't be a member of it anymore. I wasn't born into slavery, Zuko, I was sold into it. I hate being restricted. I feel uncomfortable in these clothes and even more uncomfortable entertaining strangers-"

"Perfect. I don't want those men touching you."

"-and I want to be given my freedom in two months time."

Zuko paused, and seemed to mull over her demands in his mind. His jaw worked as he ground his teeth together, and she tensed as she waited for him to explode all over again. But then, to her surprise, he answered, "Done. But in two months, you won't want to leave."

In response, she simply smiled.

THE NEXT DAY

SEA OF SAND

GREATER ARABIA

In the heart of Arabia, in a desert that streched endlessly in all directions and where great dunes moved across the desert like waves dancing across the ocean, he was there.

He had been there for years.

He and his men had conquered the desert, tamed it and made it their home. They were like the bedouin of the Sahara, wandering and moving with the shifting sands and caravans. With the army he had behind him, his rightful place as a palace.

But the desert was and will always be his home.

Underneath the blazing sun, a camp had been set up that took shelter in the troughs of the dunes. Canvas flapped and ruffled and strained in the harsh desert winds, but still held despite their flimsy appearance.

A man on a graceful white Arabian thundered over the desert sand towards the camp. His horse strained and heaved against the reins, and its great body was damp with sweat and foam. The man atop it ruthlessly kicked the animal and urged him on, denying the horse the rest it so desperately needed. Finally, in front of an unassuming looking tent located in the middle of the camp, he reigned in his horse, and slid off its back in a single smooth motion. He led the horse to a large trough full of precious water located under a canopy outside the tent, and the exhausted animal greedily drank. Tying the reins to the post of the canopy, he left the Arabian and moved towards the entrance of the tent he had stopped at. He paused to straighten his clothing and to try and knock the dust out of his hair.

Then carefully, he rapped on the canvas door of the tent.

"Enter," came a voice from within.

The man pushed through the door and swept into a deep bow. Behind a fine hand-carved wooden desk that were the spoils of the ransack of a palace a long time ago, sat his master.

His master looked up from the papers that were scattered across his desk, and said, "Ah. We've been expecting you, Farid. How was Edessa this time of year? I've heard its quite lovely."

Farid laughed nervously before standing up straight.

"What news do you bing?"

"Master Zhao," he responded, bowing his head, "I'm afraid to say that I have nothing good to report. Ala-abin gave his support at the final war meeting last night."

Zhao steeped his fingers underneath his chin. "Most interesting."

"He offered Zuko fifty men, and is sending them to him within the month."

"I trust that you will be part of those men that will reside in Edessa?"

Farid scoffed. "Of course. I've already put in a request. I'll be granted, I'm good friends with one of his lieutenants."

"And how is the resistance? Are there any against our dear betrayed prince?"

"The people of Edessa are loyal to him to a fault. He took the city last year with so few men because all the civilians wanted him to take back his throne. His soldiers are the same... many of them have been with him since he started his campaign almost five years ago. But..."

"Yes?"

"There is one soldier in his army, an officer. He's not one for revenge."

"Oh?"

"He talks constantly about how he abhors Zuko's incessant need to annihilate you, and he plots and schemes and tries to find ways to thwart him. He proved a worthy accomplice as we worked together to try to ruin Zuko's campaign for Ala-abin's support."

"Excellent," Zhao said, leaning back in his chair. "He will be our vessel. We'll bring down Edessa from the outside in, and an officer in Zuko's army could not be more perfect as a mole. When you return to his city, I want you to reveal who you really are to him, and I want you to work with him. I'm sending another man with you. He'll ferry messages back and forth so you won't have to leave the city. "

Farid bowed again. "Yes, master."

"You have done me proud, Farid. Tonight you may have your pick of the harem women. Eat a good meal and rest. Tomorrow you ride out at dawn."

"Thank you for your generosity, master." Farid bowed again, and walked out of Zhao's tent.

As Zhao watched him leave, something slightly akin to a smile curled across his face. What I started ten years ago will soon be finished. And... in exactly the same way it was started. From within, by betrayal.

The irony of the situation warmed his heart.

Mina34: I don't think i have the energy to write a long note... I'm about to fall asleep on my computer...

gretlcascade: any criticism is good criticism! and you're totally right about Katara's character, I agree with you 100%. was she better this chapter? thanks again for all your reviews, they're so helpful!

Juliet: not a problem! did you like this chapter?

Shrilaraune: another person I love getting reviews from. Could you elaborate on your last suggestion though? And sorry the bedroom scene didn't happen... it just wasn't in the cards for this chapter!

everyone else:

I LOVE your reviews! As much as I love nutella. Wait no... More. More than that.

That's a shit load of love.

Reader-chans, it would make my life if this love fest was continued and the little blue button below was clicked! Tell me what you thought of the chapter, kay? KAY!