****THIS IS AN EDITED CHAPTER****

Please note, you guys... Chapter 7 had been edited.

I received many PMs about Katara being too OOC. If there is something I can work on in my story, please let me know - but do so in a constructive way. Writers are emotional, personal, and sensitive. Like I said, I take to heart what you review, but if it just an attack towards me, it really brings me down and makes me re-think writing this at all.

This is a fanfiction. I am not a writer of ATLA. This story is different than the original, it is different than the comics. This is my work (using ATLA characters) and I just thought I would share it with you all. That's it - so please avoid attacking comments. Be constructive.

However, I do agree with Katara's actions in this chapter, so that is why this has been edited.

Please note I will not go back and edit every little thing everyone doesn't agree on liking - but this was a big exception; I did not develop Katara the right way and I apologize. Feel free to re-read this Chapter and let me know what you think.

**Secondly, and this is important: the wolfhelm Katara wears IS in fact her father's - I know the show depicts it as a halfhelm in which you can see Hakoda's face, however, for the purposes of THIS story please imagine it to be a full helm in which her head literally looks like a wolf's head and you can only see her eyes. It adds to the suspense, of course, and I love me a badass assassin with no identity.

Also, I based events of this story on the true aftermath of the show. While the ATLA visual novels produce the Restoration Movement only a year or so after Ozai's fall, mine is still five years because of my plot. I just wanted to let you know that rebels in Yu Dao and conflict between Zuko and Keui was a real thing, written by the ATLA writers.

Chapter 7: The Turning of the Tides

The new morning was still, save for the gentle lapping of Northwestern water against the canoe. The sky was not yet lit by the sun and the waves made a serene sound, subdued yet filled with promise that in a moment of anger, the sea could swallow any man whole, leaving no trace of the life left behind. One could be easily deceived – for the waves hid their temper well while the earth slept, but come light, the monsters would have their turn at havoc.

Katara crouched, kneading her knuckles in the cold air – though it was considerably warmer here, near a hundred miles off the Western coast of the Earth Kingdom (or so her map told her) – and she breathed into her palms to avoid the stiffness that began to creep into her muscles. She was aching from the hours spent tensely watching the ship that rocked gently in the distance, a mere five miles from her own boat. She had been following them for near three days, precariously watching the movements and speed of the vessel as it began sailing to the southwest. This ship was exactly how she had remembered them to be – monstrous, metal, and spewing soot in every conceivable direction. To so quickly go from the natural wonders of the Spirit World to watching this hunk of iron and steel sending black oil in the waters made her sick and angry, but a part of her blessed the ship for its oil, for following the spills they left behind in the water was how she so quickly tracked the ship down. She watched the scarlet and gold flag embroidered with the Fire Nation insignia ripple gently in the breeze and her eyes narrowed as the flame appeared to be alive and burning with each movement.

She smirked to herself, letting her gaze drift upward to the almost full moon, showering the world in blue light.

Not long now.

Wait for me, Sokka.

Two moons had passed since she began her rigorous training with Suki. It was trying on them both, for they only dared to practice late at night or very early in the morning to avoid suspicion – however that proved to be less daunting of a task than either of them had anticipated, for quite soon after their first session, Aang was called upon by some king in the Earth Kingdom and Toph went to accompany him. However, there was still Pakku and her father and Gran-Gran (who seemed to know everything at all times) to be wary of and eventually the exhaustion was enough to drive her back into a coma – a thought she amusingly had once in a while, though it was rather dark humor – but then she would picture her brother in her mind's eyes, warrior's tail swinging as he laughed, and she would pick herself up from off the ground and resume her defensive stance. It was unbearably difficult to face her newfound weakness and accept it and if she could, she would have, but she couldn't – they were the signifiers that she had survived all those years, however, and so, with time, she learned to at least acknowledge she was weak for a valid reason. Her determination was unmatched, for every stream of water that wound around her body, every wave that caught Suki offguard reminded her of Azula's – of the Fire Lord's – yellow eyes and she felt progress, she felt the beginning of strength.

The weeks passed – her weary limbs became more resilient as her muscle built beneath her skin; the bags under her eyes disappeared, her sunken-in cheeks filling in until she looked healthy – of which Gran-Gran noticed delightedly and Katara told her it was due to her appreciation for the Northern food and her love of walking around the city and admiring the icy pillars beneath the sun. As the days continued, she was able to fend off Suki for longer and eventually found herself on the strong offensive, which sparked a wave of pride in the progress within her. It was exhilarating , this secret goal she harbored within her, flowing outward into her veins until it consumed her like dead leaves in a fire and she became addicted to training; often Suki remarked her pleasure in how quickly Katara recovered, claiming she would be near to where her skills used to be. Katara was pleased, but it wasn't enough, she needed more, to do more and be more. She would not lose again.

And so she began training on her own until all of her waking thoughts were consumed by images of water and strategy and defensive poses. She discovered new abilities on her own, some of which frightened her, but the apprehension was good – it meant Azula would feel that same fear.

In the two months she trained, her nine-and-tenth birthday came and went. She pleaded with her father and Gran-Gran to not make a celebration out of it and, after much heated deliberation, they reluctantly agreed, and so Katara spent a nice, quiet feast with her family and Suki (who had become her closest, most treasured friend). Aang and Toph had already left for the Earth Kingdom.

However, on the morning of her birthday, a package rested in solitude next to her bed, neatly tied. She had smiled, assuming it was from her father, but upon seeing the tuft of bison hair attached to the ribbon, she became hesitant to open it, a sense of dread rising up within her that she could not shake off.

A part of her wished she never did open it, for there in front of her, staring at her with expectation and filled with empty promise rested a beautifully-carved necklace attached to blue silk. Initially, Katara assumed Aang did not realize what such a gift meant to her people, but another terrifying thought reached her: what if he did?

The guilt gnawed at her relentlessly, but she left it, still resting upon the wrappers Aang had so carefully wrapped on her night table, untouched and unworn.

Even if she had felt differently about the Avatar, love was not possible for her. Not now.

Now, she was strong, stronger than she had thought she'd ever be.

But it was not the time for sullen thoughts and pangs of guilt and regret. No, memories were a poison and she could not allow to herself to drink it.

The Fire Nation ship steadily came closer through the hours until it was a mere three miles from her. She pulled the wolfhelm over her head – which she had guiltily stolen from her father's chambers as she snuck out of the palace – and lowered herself out of the canoe, slipping soundlessly into the lapping waters.

Zuko pinched the bridge of his nose, squeezing his eyes shut. He exhaled sharply.
"How many times do I have to tell you?" he snapped. "Forward all missives and letters to my Uncle and the Lady Mai. We still have over a week until we return to the capital. I don't have the time – nor the resources – to give proper responses to our beloved nobles."

Admiral Jun almost sighed, but one sharp glance from the Fire Lord and he bowed deeply, muttering, "Yes, Your Grace."

"As for what the nobles shall be told… Tell my uncle my stance on the Movement remains the same. My people will stay in the colony. Tell them no more than this – I do not want rumors to swarm the palace like flies. Enough lice resides within our curtains as it is." The Fire Lord thought he could see a slight smirk from his admiral, but the man kept his composure and merely bowed again, saying, "At once," before turning sharply on his heel and leaving for the firehawks.

Damn the nobles.

They had been incessant. Was Aang an enemy of the Fire Nation once more? Would there be war in Yu Dao if Zuko refused to force his people to leave the colony? What would Kuei do? What would Aang do? How would Zuko respond? He couldn't take it anymore – he could not – and it was all he could do to not burn down his chambers in his frustration. Well, as politics would have it, Earth King Kuei had called upon Zuko once he learned of his presence in the Earth Kingdom and the meeting fared as horribly as the Fire Lord had assumed it would be. The Earth King demanded to know why the Fire Lord was visiting the colonies and Zuko wanted to scoff, for were they not his colonies? He could see them as he wished. But it was true, what Aang had warned him – hostility was becoming higher, tensions were rising, and it wouldn't be long before violence ran rampant through the streets. Still, he could not bring himself to bow to Kuei's wishes. The "pirate" threatening Yu Dao Admiral Jun had warned him about was some citizen named Smellerbee. It was an awful name, but at least Kuei had the decency to tell him. It didn't change anything, however – thus, the Fire Lord refused cooperation with the Earth King and sailed for home.

He handled it diplomatically enough, he thought. He was proud of himself, actually, for patience had never come easily to him. He didn't want war with Kuei, he didn't want that at all, so there must be something else they could do to reach an agreement. The answer, if there was one, eluded him and so he commanded Admiral Jun to have his men steer them towards home.

Will you be proud, Uncle? What would you have done?

"Your Grace."

Zuko looked over, grunting as his admiral sprinted towards him, worried.

"What?" Zuko replied. "You couldn't have sent those letters yet."

"There was a distress signal," Admiral Jun panted. Agni, you must be joking. Zuko's eyes narrowed as he snapped, "From where?"

"Our sister ship on the outskirts of the Western Air Temple."

"Who attacked it?"

"I…do not know, sir, we have yet to receive a messenger hawk-"

"What are you waiting for, you bumbling oaf? Tell the captain to steer us towards the ship; quit wasting time." Zuko spun on his heel and walked briskly towards his cabins, struggling to keep composure but his veins were boiling and it felt so good, yes he hadn't felt rage like this in a long time. War was a sin, but it brought men to life in ways it never should.

But was this what it was? War?

No…He, no, could not jump to conclusions. Not yet.

He threw open the door to his cabin, his robes swishing noisily around his ankles as he rummaged through his drawers in a frenzy, dipping a quill into ink and writing a hasty letter to his uncle. He would know what to do; he always did.

There was a rap on the door, followed by Admiral Jun's face.

"We are on our way North," he speculated. "I fear our return to the capital had been postponed."

"Yes, it does seem that way."

"My Lord, is it wise?" the admiral asked hesitantly. "It could be a plot to-"

"I am aware, but we do not know how large a fleet has attacked our ship. I cannot leave it to chance."

"Understood."

Zuko handed him the letter. "Send this to General Iroh at the capital. If a hawk arrives from the ship, find me immediately. I would have our men be ready, as well – Agni knows what the sea manages to throw at us."

She wiped her brow, panting. The inside of her helm was unbearably hot and a bitter sheen of sweat made her lips salty. Her hair clung to her face, but her deed, her goal had been accomplished. She did not know if she could handle so many soldiers, let alone firebenders, but she had proven herself. She had proven it to all of them and now she stood amidst a clutter of bodies littering the ship deck. She hadn't killed them, no, she didn't…didn't want to lose herself so soon.

Whoever she was now, it was no one Aang or even Gran-Gran knew and maybe, just maybe, that would have frightened her but now… Now, it didn't and that alone was frightening in itself.

She stepped over their bodies, her eyes narrowing beneath the helm as she made her way to the control deck. The captain, he never came out. There were more crew hiding inside, no doubt, but they had no chance – the sea bent to her will and her will was to win.

She looked up as a hawk shot out from the ship's control deck, a scroll attached to its leg. For a moment, she considered sending up a water whip to flick the letter of its leg but she stopped herself. Let the Fire Lord know of her endeavors. It would only bring Azula to her quicker, and Katara wanted her to be angry when she came.

She sent a wave of water towards the door, breaking the metal in instantly and it crumpled with a loud crush, hitting the opposite wall with a clang. The captain was at the control panel, panicking as he pressed numerous buttons. When he saw Katara he shrank back in fear, throwing out his arm in a half-hearted attempt to burn her. She lazily flicked water up, casting his flame to the side which dissipated with a hiss of steam.

And she stood there, watching his golden eyes flicker back and forth and, yes, he was afraid and she basked in it. He lurched forward in a sudden movement, his face crumbling in rage but she send a stream of water to his temple, colliding harshly with his head and he slunk to the ground, unconscious.

She turned towards the control panel he was trying to protect.

So many buttons…

She hadn't seen technology like this before, no. The ships she was accustomed to were those of wood and nails – the way they were supposed to be.

There was something on the control panel that looked like a compass surrounded by numerous buttons. Her curiosity took the best of her and she pressed one to see what would happen; a loud cracking echoed through the metal walls of the ship as something overheard exploded in the sky, startling her.

A flare?

Yes, she heard that sound earlier – the captain must have sent it up when his men started dropping like flies on the deck. Good. She wanted them to be afraid. Even more, she wanted the Fire Nation to know she was there.

How long until you come after me, Fire Lord?

It had become a game – and it was exhilarating.

She turned the ship starboard and then straightened it out again, freezing ice around the wheel so it would not move nor budge, keeping the vessel on course and she went out onto the deck, standing at the bow of the ship. She threw out her arms, feeling her blood rush through her veins as loud as the breaking waves against the hull and she moved her hands forward and back, forward and back and the water began lapping faster as the ship was propelled more quickly through the waters. It was a very tiring trick; moving that much water at once to drive an entire ship forward made her limbs tremble but she couldn't stop.

Earlier, she had heard the captain and men exchanging hushed whispers about the Fire Lord's ship, which was apparently southeast of the Western Air Temple, near the coast of the fire nation colonies. She, unfortunately, had forgotten to properly thank them for their information before locking them up unconscious in the cells below decks in the coolers, where the fire in their veins could not dream of igniting.

She wanted to also thank the Fire Lord for her disgusting ships again, for as she looked down into the sea, she could see a long stream of black oil leading her towards the southern horizon and Katara smirked, basking in the irony that the Azula's own ship would aid in her demise.

Zuko squinted, trying to see any discernable shape in the distance but the night had just come and it was dark and devoid of stars, it seemed, and so he couldn't truly see anything at all. He grumbled to himself, scratching at his head in frustration. Yes, there was a rising apprehension within him, toying with him and making his limbs feel itchy. There wasn't anything he could about it, however, except wait until he spotted his ship on the horizon. Thoughts clung to him like mothballs in old tapestries – did his captain keep hold of his ship? Is anyone dead? Who is attacking?

He had no answers. He hated not having answers. He felt incompetent, for why kind of lord would let his people be overrun so easily?

Damn it all.

It wasn't the time for thoughts concerning his proficiency. No, he could sulk about his shortcomings as a Fire Lord later. Now, however…

Now, he was running to the control deck. A hawk had swooped over the ship not a moment before and Zuko had almost missed it in his grumpy thoughts. Well, he heard the screech of the massive bird, alright, and so he whirled around, calling for Admiral Jun and heading inside.

When he arrived, the Captain had already untied the scroll from the bird's leg and was holding it out to Zuko, who promptly unraveled it, his fingers slightly trembling. It was hastily drawn – as he had expected – but the words… Agni, the words, they-

Pirate…the North…All men down…

He blinked, his fingers tightening their grip on the parchment until it became wrinkled and bent.

"Admiral, send another letter to my Uncle. We have a pirate on our hands and a good one, I'd wager."

"Truly? How do you know?"

"Because!" Zuko spat loudly. "This assassin took out the entire crew and we are not riding on a battleship – we are on a royal barge! If this pirate could take over a ship meant for war, what do you think he could do to us on a cruiser? Agni, damn it. Damn it all. Send for my Uncle. Get me my armor. Captain, have your men burn more coal. We need to move faster. We have no trebuchets, no explosives, nothing… Defense is our only option."

"Right away, my lord," the Captain replied, bowing quickly. "Hard to port! Hard to port! Zhen, you fool, get down into the boilers and pile up the coal, dammit! We are in for a fine race, my boys."

Zuko did his best to keep his pace nothing more than walking really fast, but he wanted to sprint. He wanted to run forever, actually, but he also wanted to destroy whatever pirate was threatening him now and the desire of the latter outweighed the former and so he went to his rooms, changing quickly out of his royal traveling robes and into the trousers, pointed boots, and tunic that was easier to move in for battle – if that is what it must come to.

He placed his crown upon his dresser. No, he did not want to lose it. At any rate, the fool of a pirate would still know he was the Fire Lord for the scar he could not lose, even if he wanted to. He tapped his dresser, impatiently waiting for one of his men to bring his pauldrons and chest armor. Wearing these clothes reminded him of his younger years. Searching for the Avatar, joining the Avatar… He was a boy, a teen then and now… Now he was one-and-twenty and he was leading an entire nation.

He wondered if she would have been proud of him.

If she…

He opened the drawer of his dresser, his eyes resting on the blue necklace, glowing brilliantly in the light of the full moon that seeped into his chambers. He pocketed it; something about having it close to him was reassuring.

And he needed it, he needed the reassurance for this pirate from the North. The North...where Aang had been for the past few years.

Have you sided with Kuei? Have you betrayed me?

He couldn't bear the thought; he tasted bile in his mouth at the possibility and so he pushed it from his mind. His head couldn't be cloudy, not when disaster was eminent.

He slammed the drawer shut, but not before catching the familiar blue mask, smiling up at him. It had been a long time since he had donned it, though he always brought it with him and he didn't truly know why. The Blue Spirit, yes… Maybe, if there was no chance at all he would hide himself behind the mask – at any rate, it would confuse the pirate, who would wonder where the Fire Lord went, long enough to take him down. He left it in his chambers, however, for if he needed it, it was not right now.

The Fire Lord wagered they had about half a day before their sister ship would be seen on the horizon. It would be long enough to make sure everything was as defensive as it could be. Yes, they needed all the time they could get but he was not about to be greedy.

Zuko was fitted into his armor and returned promptly to the deck, conversing with his admiral enough to feel secure about the way things were progressing on the ship. A hefty supply of coal, raging fires in the furnaces, metal bent to cover his and the captain's chamber doors as well as the control deck, precious goods hidden below decks… Yes, it was all going smoothly, much smoother than he had anticipated.

So now, we wait.

Zuko hooked his twin blades across his back, folding his arms as he stood at the bow of the ship, watching the black waves pound against the hull. Water was beautiful, so beautiful, but it was unforgiving and, on this night, it was unbearably angry.

"My lord!"

Zuko looked up from his writing desk, the quill coming to a stop in his hands.

"What is it?"

"The ship…" his admiral panted.

He bolted to his feet, the chair falling backwards in his haste.

"It is impossible!" he shouted. "The night is still young. We were supposed to have until tomorrow, we were supposed to have…" He trailed off, massaging his temples. His heart was racing and it was annoying but the Fire Lord could not tremble, the Fire Lord could not falter where his men stood tall and ready. It was truth, though, that he was nervous and perhaps it was ridiculous – it was one person, one pirate but…

He grumbled, thinking of every curse word and insult imaginable to curb his frustration. Needless to say, it didn't work. He was still angry.

"Should we tried to outsail them, my Lord?" Admiral Jun asked, his eyes urgent and wide. "This pirate could have had others join him."

"I know. No, we cannot flee. Even if we did… None of our forces are close enough to help in time. We are on a royal barge, Admiral, and the captain of our sister ship sent the distress signal here. It is obvious to our pirate that I am here. If what he wants is the Fire Lord, then the game has started. I won't run. At any rate, my uncle knows the situation at hand. If something should go awry, I have already written a letter that will be sent to him immediately, calling for his aid."

"And what of the Lady Mai? To run a nation-"

"My High Consult knows of his duties should something happen. He will stand by her side and help her. She can handle it and I trust his judgment. It will be alright, yes, it has to be alright."

Zuko ignored the petulant gaze of his admiral. He may have been curt in his response, but he needed to be. Time was too precious and they had wasted enough of it as it was.

He shifted, grimacing under the weight of his metal pauldrons. They were sharp and curved upwards in the traditional style of the Fire Nation and they rested on his shoulders heavily, poking his skin uncomfortably. He scratched the back of his neck as he pushed aside various parchments on his cluttered desk until he came to the note he had written to his uncle. He handed it to Admiral Jun, saying, "Send this to my uncle if something goes wrong."

Admiral Jun nodded, stuffing the letter into his tunic and bowing sharply before exiting the Fire Lord's chambers with haste.

It didn't make sense.

How did you catch up to us so quickly?

The pirate could burn as much coal as he wanted, it wouldn't change the maximum speed the ship could reach. But even so, the questions arose, boiling within Zuko like water and he tried to shut it out but his apprehension was rising and for a moment he let a sliver of fear enter his mind. It was a mistake, he knew, and so he reached into his pocket, his fingertips lightly brushing her necklace and he breathed deeply, willing his heart to slow as he left his room, the weight of his twin blades almost searing against his heated skin.

The waiting was agonizing. The middle of the night had passed recently, the moon at its peak, and the ship followed suit, beating the dawn at its own game. The waters were quiet and still, reflecting the patient bodies of Zuko's men who sat waiting, just waiting. Their bodies were rigid, hands gripping the hilts of swords, fingers pulsating beneath the fire they held in their hands for warmth and the breathing was almost timid, as though they were afraid to live too loudly.

Zuko damned himself for sailing on the royal barge. It was the proper ship to take when he was confronting the rebel problem in Yu Dao, but had he known he would be attacked by a pirate he would have had his captain sail something more suited for defense.

It doesn't matter. Had I sailed a warship, Kuei would have seen it as an attack. No… There was nothing I could do. There was no way any of us could have foreseen this.

No one except perhaps the Avatar.

Have you betrayed me, Aang? And if so… Why?

And so he bared his shoulders back, watching the inky horizon as his own ship came towards him, the Fire Nation flag rippling in the height of the night.

Katara leaned against the railings of the ship, her breathing labored and quick. Pushing the waves against the hull for so long had tired her violently and her limbs were trembling from the exertion. She pushed back sweaty strands of hair that were seemingly glued to her forehead and she sighed, the cold air in the still-sleeping morning quiet and crisp. She was making good time – dawn would not come for hours, but she only needed one. Only one hour and she will have taken the Fire Lord's ship.

She hoped it was the Fire Lord's ship, anyway. It had to be, for it was an extravagant, ghastly thing adorned with gold and magnificently large flags bearing a more intricate version of the insignia than the one on her ship. She frowned, tapping her fingertips against the metal railing. A part of her wondered if it were a trap – Azula had proven herself to be smarter than Katara thought, at least in her dreams anyway – but there was no way they could have been waiting for her. She told no one of her plan to overtake the Fire Lord, not even Suki.

Suki…

Katara was sorry. She was very sorry to her friend, but she had to harden and steel herself from all emotion if she wanted to succeed. Still, she felt as if she owed Suki something. After all, it was the Kyoshi warrior that told her what she finally wanted to hear: Sokka was alive.

Alive.

She was giddy, apprehensive, angry, and protective all in one feeling. It was almost dangerous to her body, for what heart was possibly built to feel that much in one moment? But she basked in it, it propelled her forwards and so she glared at the horizon, picturing Azula's lupine eyes in her mind as her ship continued to gain on the barge.

It was a full moon. Her gaze flicked up to the sky and she took a deep breath, willing the moon spirit and the ocean spirit to guide her on her path and grant her the strength she would need to save her kin.

"Yue," she whispered. She had not spoken to the moon spirit yet. She had only heard stories – stories from Chief Arnook, from Suki and very few from Gran-Gran – but still, she felt a little awkward reaching out to the former princess. She was a real person, after all. But on this night, Yue was radiant and filtered into Katara's veins and she felt peace.

"Yue," she repeated, holding her fingers to her neck out of habit, her heart sinking when it was barren of her mother's necklace. "Can you hear me? Perhaps you can. And if so… Please help me. You may have met my brother, Sokka. Did you know him? You would have liked him, I think. He may have annoyed you at first, but…" She grimaced, smacking her hand against her forehead. She was horrible at talking to spirits, it seemed. In the Spirit World, it was easy. Hei Bai was always with her and his presence came naturally. It was like she belonged there, wading in the rivers that were so fond of changing directions. Things didn't make sense, no, but once she accepted that fact, it was as though she suddenly understood everything about that world.

Here, though…

The physical world was much more confusing. She shook her head, massaging her temples.

"Yue, please help me," she groaned. "Help me succeed. I need Sokka back. I need unwavering strength. I know you want peace, but… Sometimes aggression is needed before waters can settle, right? I don't…"

She gave up, mumbling to herself in frustration. Spirits don't take sides. That, she knew. She had known it this whole time, but it was worth a shot.

She turned away from the moon and back towards the Fire Lord's ship. She needed the strength of the full moon to win and so she had to the beat the dawn. She took a deep breath, pushing out her arms and beginning the circular motion again, wincing when she felt her limbs begin to strain as the ocean around began to bend to her will, pushing the ship forward even faster than before.

"Stand ready."

Admiral Jun stood rigid, his hands clasped behind his back. The men had risen from their crouched forms, taking up their arms or readying their veins for the flames that would soon warm the sky.

Zuko was nervous. His belly was twisting into knots and waves of anxiety would creep over him at what seemed like regular intervals. It was annoying. Agni, it was annoying.

It's only one pirate. One, solitary person.

But this pirate had managed to take out an entire crew. This pirate from the North managed to operate an entire ship by himself. This pirate somehow managed to propel the ship faster than seemingly possible. And this pirate might know Aang.

Out of all the things Aang has ever taught me, it would have been nice if he taught me how to close my mind. Maybe then I could keep these thoughts away.

Zuko sighed, twirling his blade in his hand out of habit. The ship was large, menacingly so, and it seemed to swallow up the entire horizon. It was close, so close, and his own barge was deadly silent. No one moved nor even seemed to breathe. He didn't like it, not at all.

He squinted in the darkness. He couldn't make out any discernible figures on the ship, but perhaps it was still a little too far to see. It was not even a mile away, but even so the flag seemed to swallow the world and seeing his own insignia, rippling in the moonlight, gave him no comfort.

The ship had stopped.

Zuko's eyes narrowed, his blood's temperature rising in his confusion.

"Why has he stopped?" Admiral Jun asked quietly. The Fire Lord made no response, instead proceeding to the bow of the ship. The clouds had parted, leaving the moon to shine down brilliantly upon the deck, showering Zuko in blue light.

Why have you stopped?

His gaze narrowed even more. None of this was making sense! His questions – none of them were being answered. His sister ship stared at him, stationary, and his hands clenched into fists, a muscle twitching in his jaw.

What game are you playing at?

Katara took a deep breath. She balanced precariously on the railings of the stern of the ship, looking down at the inky black waters.

It's time.

I can't turn back.

She turned, careful to not slip off the railings, so her back was towards the ocean. She looked at the empty deck before her, letting her thoughts turn to who she would soon face. If she was afraid, it was buried by her anger. It felt… good.

I'm coming, brother.

She closed her eyes, throwing out her arms and letting herself fall backwards off the railing. She plummeted into the water, the coldness enveloping her body in a breathtaking, surreal way. She felt alive, electric, every hair standing on end as she propelled herself through the black sea, bending the water around her mouth to leave a bubble for air.

It was almost a mile to the ship, a distance she covered in what felt like no time. She could see the keel under the water, massive and black and metal in its monstrosity. She pulled herself up, careful to be straight as an arrow in the lapping waters to avoid unnecessary sound. The ripples hitting the hull were loud enough, however, and so she had no problem moving up to the side of the ship as no more than a ghostly entity, unsure herself if she was more than just an enigma. It had seemed the Fire Lord had ordered her ship to come to a halt and Katara sent a quick thanks up to Yue for it would have been much harder to keep up with the ship while avoiding detection were it still moving forward.

I need strength, but it seems luck doesn't hurt either.

Katara pressed herself against the ship, the metal searing cold against her skin. She panted, letting her limbs relax for a moment before straining her ears to hear any sound of movement above. These steel and iron monsters were enormously tall, however, and so she could not hear anything at all but she didn't doubt that they were waiting, starkly waiting for her. She looked towards the bow, squinting in the moonlight.

The moonlight.

Dawn wasn't due for a few more hours yet but the moon had passed its peak. Time was passing all too quickly and Katara knew she must hurry if she were to have any chance at taking the Fire Lord and her beloved men. The blue light from the moon faltered; clouds were gathering in the night.

It may just rain.

Katara's gaze narrowed.

There was a man leaning out over the bow of the ship. She tried to creep closer, careful to stay hidden against the side of the ship as she let the current of the water carry her closer to the front. She could not see much of him in the distance that separated him, save for his stark black hair that looked blue in the moonlight and the two blades that glinted against his back. The way he stood gave him a regal air and Katara found herself drawn to him – not in a good way, no, but in a hungry way.

She shook her head, clearing her mind. She would destroy him if she had to, but he was not her target. No…Her target had the eyes of a sick wolf, the hair of a slick raven – or are you a coward, a crow? – and the gaze of an apathetic serpent.

Do I not have to be the same? Don't I have to be just like you if I am to win?

Katara scoffed, moving her hands around in the water to warm up her muscles. She would never be Azula. She would never be any degree like her. It was true, she had to think like her – for the Fire Lord was damnably smart.

You might not approve of what I'm doing, Yue, but if you knew Sokka, you would know that this is something I must do.

And so she repositioned the wolfhelm on her head, closing her eyes before thrusting her arms downward, the water spiraling around her like a funnel as she sprung herself out of the sea, soaring up the metal wall until the deck was in sight.

Just a little closer…

The men were ready. She could see them, crouched and stern, weapons or flame in hand. They were waiting, waiting for something and she knew even they did not know what they were waiting for. Katara smirked coyly.

Should I have sent a messenger hawk first to let you know of my visiting?

It was as easy as the flick of her wrist. She let her funnel of water carry her in a big arch over the deck so quickly the soldiers did not at first see her. Then, one of the men's eyes widened in alarm but before he could yell for aid, Katara flicked her hand and a stream of water flew beneath her fingertips, jolting straight towards his chest and throwing him backwards. He landed in a crumpled heap and Katara let the water around her body bring her back down to the sea, out of sight.

She panted, gripping the bolts in the ship's body for stability. She wasn't weary – no, the moon was granting her with power – but there were so many men, so many of them and most, if not all, of them were benders. She had taken over the other ship easy enough, but it was nothing more than a patrol group, so there weren't many onboard.

Now, though, there were at least twenty of them on deck. Inside, there were probably more than a dozen more waiting for her. For the first time, she felt a little afraid.

Don't back out now. Don't back out now.

She looked up at the moon which was mostly obscure from the rainclouds, focusing on her breathing and the feeling of her blood pumping through her veins. She flexed her arm, watching her veins bulge and then disappear.

Yue, grant me the power of a beast.

But only as a last resort.

Humanity, once lost, was terrifyingly hard to find again.

She could hear them shouting on the deck, wondering when their shadowed enemy would reappear. It was strangely comforting to know they were worried and so, using that thought to boost her adrenaline, she summoned the swirling tube of water around her body once more and shot herself up onto the deck with blurring speed. She landed at the bow of the ship, looking up slowly at the men who stared at her in shock through the slits of her wolfhelm. They were frozen for a moment; the air felt devoid of time until one of the soldiers snarled a guttural sound, leaping forward and jutting out his fists which we were alight with flame, and in that moment all of time seemed to speed up alarmingly and they were coming for her, they were all coming at once like a deluge of red and gold and it reminded her, it reminded her so clearly of the day, that day they took her mother from her – the day when the snow turned black and the people dressed in blue were crying and the demons dressed in red were laughing and her mother, she was bowing in front of a man, yes, that man – the one with the scar from the dreams? – and then she was dead. Only dead.

She threw the soldiers backwards with a massive wave that drowned the deck in cold, salty waters and they were spluttering, they were reaching for the weapons that were being carried away from them, they were cursing at their fire which had so quickly, so easily, been extinguished. Some were screaming, "Waterbender! Waterbender!" and others were screaming, "Assassin!" and it made her angry. Yue, it made her angry! She wanted to shut them up. She wanted to tell them that she wasn't the assassin – it was they who rode on their metal giants and destroyed her home, it was they who tainted the virgin snow with soot, it was they who stole her mother's corpse and left Katara alone, so alone, and it was they who needed to die for they were the assassins. It wasn't her! It wasn't her. She was atoning for her weakness. She was atoning for her inability to save her mother. She had to find Sokka – if only you could understand – she had to make things right for if she did, then maybe her mother could rest in peace and Katara could finally remember everything that happened to her in all those years she forgot. Azula would witness her vengeance and it would be cold and filled with the salt of the sea.

She was a coward, but no more.

No more.

They came at her like flies buzzing around raw meat that had been left out in the sun too long. They came at her like the jaws of angry animals, snapping and curling and hissing – but they weren't hissing, no, it was merely the sound of steam as she doused their fires, adding kindling to the one that was raging inside of her. Her body was languid, graceful, lithe as she moved in between all of them, twisting and turning underneath arms and hands that grasped for her, swords that swung above her head, fire that seared past her skin, but she avoided them all, no more than a shadow given shape in the moonlight. She saw a flash of the raven-haired man that was standing at the bow of the ship – I suppose they are all raven-haired – and for a moment, he distracted her and a jet of flame collided with the side of her helm. Katara staggered, dropping to one knee. Her ears were ringing and she blinked, trying to clear the fuzz in her mind and she turned, scowling angrily as she drew water from the sea, freezing it into needle-sharp icicles and throwing them forward like hundreds of tiny spears.

Katara!

She froze. The icicles stopped, not an even an inch before the soldier's chest, which they would have sunk into like dough.

It was Sokka's voice, seemingly so near, but yet naught more than an echo.

"He's here?" she whispered to herself, eyes growing wide. She let the icicles drop. The world had seemed to stand still – even the soldiers had frozen in fear, wondering if this northern pirate was so easily going to kill. Katara blinked, her thoughts coming back to her. She was going to kill him, to kill him…To watch with pride at the beads of blood that would bubble over his tunic and spill down his still body.

She hadn't a second thought! Not until Sokka…

Was that truly you? Were you saving me from myself?

It began raining.

She couldn't breathe, only stare in horror at her hands, turning her palms over and over, trying to imagine a world where she was so quick to turn to the finality of death.

"Who have I become?" she muttered vacantly.

Her mind was snapped back to the present when she was thrown to the ground, arms pinning her down as fire licked at her skin and it hurt, it hurt so badly but she wouldn't scream. They did not deserve the satisfaction! She threw up her leg, smashing her foot against the face of a young soldier who screamed, holding his broken jaw as blood spurted from his nose and mouth and with the moment of reprieve, she drew water to her and, flipping her legs around one another, spun herself to a crouched form and throwing the water out in a wide, even circle, freezing it instantly when it touched the soldiers' bodies, encasing them in a thick wall of ice. They struggled violently, grunting and cursing and the rain ran down their faces; the rain was coming down harder, making it more difficult for Katara to see every man that plagued the deck.

The anger rose again, stronger than before. Fire was destruction, fire was blood, and it was fierce.

A blur sped past her. She whirled around, her breath hot and moist inside of the helm and she glimpsed that damned, haunting man as he reached for the blades behind his back. Her eyes narrowed as she threw forth a whip of water, aiming to wrap it around his ankles and pull him to her but he leapt deftly to the side with commendable speed. She grimaced, chastising herself for missing him when he turned his blades toward her, lounging forward as a jet of flame spiraled towards her from the tip of each sword. Katara could hear the panicked shouts of, "Protect the Fire Lord!" as she spun around, whipping the water around her to form a solid wall of ice, sending the flame to dissipate and leave behind only steam. She bent the rain that pelted her skin and drew two stakes of ice, one under each palm and she turned back to face him, the ice sharper than razors in her grasp. She drew back her arm and, just as she shot her hands forward, releasing the icicles, the raven-haired man stumbled back in surprise, his shaggy hair parting to show his face.

The scar...

That scar.

No, no, Yue, no…

And Katara staggered, sending the ice stakes in the wall of the control deck behind him, her eyes widening in unimaginable shock at the sight of that ghastly scar that plagued his face.

I…missed.

The door burst open. Over half a dozen men in flaming red silks and coal-black armor sprinted from up the stairs to the deck, their helms dark and pointed and menacing. Katara shrank back, preparing to pull up her arms and send a freezing cold wave of water down their throats but they were fast, so fast in her moment of hesitation and she could feel their fire touching her skin, heating her helm to an unbearable temperature that sent sweat down her neck and then they had her, their hot, angry hands pulling at her painfully and she struggled, she struggled so violently but they twisted her arms and she forced herself to swallow her cries and the rain, it was interfering with her sight and it was dripping from her body and then… She was afraid.

They forced her to her knees, pulling her arms behind her. Zuko thought he could see a slight tremble in her shoulders, but he blinked and she was still. His eyes narrowed, wondering what face she wore behind the mask.

And are you gritting your teeth in pain?

His hands clenched into fists. And she should be in pain, this peasant, this crude assassin that dared to challenge his own fleet, his own nation. Well, she missed. The infamous pirate missed when she attempted to stake him. A part of him, amidst his gratefulness, was disappointed. He thought it would at least be a better fight.

Zuko's lips pulled back in a snarl as he crossed his arms over his chest, striding forwards until he came to rest in front of her kneeling figure. His shoes sloshed around the water on the deck and the rain was coming down harder, plastering his hair to his face and gluing his robes to his body. The intricate fabrics around her body were soaked, and he could see strands of dark hair that fell below her headpiece. She struggled against the guards, but they tightened their hold, twisting her wrists and she bent forward slightly, causing Zuko's lip to curl up into a sneer.

He knew warriors like her would never show fear or pain. She would never be submissive, but he took sadistic pride in knowing it still hurt her like hell. So when will you break?

He nodded once at his men and they twisted her arms further. She buckled at this, her head nearly dropping against the deck. Her back muscles were twitching beneath her clothes – clothes from the North, it seemed; Zuko blinked the rain from his eyes, looking over to the Captain of his ship, silently ordering him to step forward.

"On behalf of the Fire Nation, for the charge of treason and attempts on the Fire Lord's life, you, assassin, are hereby sentenced to immediate death," the Captain said dryly before sighing. "Any last words, say them now." He grumbled under his breath.

What a man, to be bored from executions.

Zuko tensed up and leaned forward, a smirk crossing the shadows on his face. She stilled then, her body softening against the deck. He watched her breaths slow, his brows drawing together in annoyance. He began to lift his hand to call forth his Captain when she spoke so quietly, he had to lean forward to hear.

"My brother…" she whispered, her head still bowed. "She was supposed to have him. She told me she had him. Then, I guess it's true…" Her head snapped up suddenly, bitter blue eyes staring into his own behind her wolfhelm. "Azula always lies."

Zuko stumbled back, his eyes widening in terror. His heart beat twice and then seemed to stop, exploding within his chest.

"What…" he breathed, "What did you say?"

But then she ripped her arms from the guards' grasps. She swung her leg out behind her, the men crashing to the deck and she rolled forward, coming to a crouched form. Zuko snarled, flames erupting from the tips of his fingers and he basked in the feeling of his anger licking at his skin. He pulled his arm back before freezing as she slowly lifted her head, her eyes meeting his. He could not look away, he could not think, but he could almost remember where he had seen…

No.

Her arms shot backwards, her fingers twitching and the men on the deck began convulsing, their eyes bulging against their sockets as they were forced to their knees by some unseen force, their heads bowing forward until they touched the deck. The flames at Zuko's fingers erupted into a roaring flame and he growled angrily, lurching forward.

But then his flames were gone.

And his fingers were trembling, curling against one another despite his own will. His face crumpled, his heart pounding as a strange, almost painful feeling erupted within the veins in his body. He could feel it, he could feel it, almost as if his veins themselves were twisting and intertwining, but it was not him, it was not what he wanted his limbs to do! He fell to his knees on the deck, the veins in his neck forcing his head back and he gurgled, he spluttered, his throat closing. His captain fell beside him, shaking violently.

He could hear the door open, he could hear feet running onto the slick deck but she threw her arms forward and they, too, fell to the floor, the rain falling upon their still faces, peacefully unconscious, unaware of the horror she could plague with them if she wanted.

Fear gripped at his heart, but even she controlled how fast it beat. It was not possible! It was not possible… She stopped in front of him then, looking down at him beneath her wolfhelm and he shuddered. She raised her hand slightly and his head was forced upward and she turned his eyes toward the sky as though she were giving him some answer. The storm clouds shut out the light of the stars, but there was a break in the sky; he could see a full m-

A full moon.

Agni, no. No, no, please, no!

But there was she was, standing amidst her element, the rain dripping from her body and he could feel her angry glare behind the mask, he could feel her inside his blood. The part in the clouds let the glow of the moon envelop her; she seemed almost surreal, but deadly so and in that moment, he was terrified.

Bloodbender.

When she closed his throat once more and his face felt blue and he wanted to scream for air, she froze. Her head tilted downward, her eyes staring into his chest and she released her hold on him and he gasped, clawing at his throat as he gulped in shuddering, panicked, uneven breaths. His robes had come undone in the struggle and he looked down at his own skin, the scar on his chest angry and red.

Did a scar make you falter, assassin? Look at my face instead; show me your disgust and look at my face!

But she only dropped to her knees, the rain on the deck sloshing against the pieces of fabric that hung from her hips. She leaned forward, her wolf head tilting and her arm reached out slowly. He trembled slightly as her gloved fingertips trailed over his skin, resting on his scar. She prodded at it gently, inching forward until her head was only inches from him. He could feel her shaking and the control over his blood had released completely. He sighed with the freedom, but he tensed up and leaned away from her, unsure of what was happening.

Get away from me.

His lips lifted into a snarl, but her hand was at his face and he froze. He tried to slap her hand away but she took the blood in his veins and, almost gently, bended his hand away from her.

"Tch…" he growled, but there was something in her hands, something that he would never admit to, that calmed him. They felt…They felt familiar. She tilted her head again.

"I…did this?" she whispered as if asking, staring at the scar on his chest before her wounded eyes rose to meet his again. He was confused for a moment, but then her fingers hooked under her chin, lifting the helm from her face.

His heart began pounding even harder, almost painfully so, for in his heart, he knew there was only one bender that could control blood, that could have such power circling her spirit, but he could not bring himself to believe it could…

Blue eyes, crystalline and sparkling with pools of an angry sea, stared wildly at him.

And then he breathed the name, that name he swore he would never let settle on his lips, never speak, but there it was and there she was and the world stopped the moment he whispered,

"Katara."