Two days after arriving at the Aurora Tribe, the group was rested enough to venture back out into the crowded city. Their reception was as jovial and enthusiastic as it had been when they stepped off the boat; aged women ran up to Toph and Katara and Suki, taking their hands in theirs, pressing their foreheads gratefully to the backs of their palms. Some of them babbled on in the language of the North, but after a few minutes realized their visitors could not understand them, and switched into a more common tongue. Their questions and praise was all mostly directed at Katara, who - now dressed in native Water Tribe apparel (apart from her still existent niqab) looked more an Aurora Princess than anyone could have imagined. They asked her about things Katara found embarrassing and unexpected - inquiries about her mother, the whereabouts of her father, her plans in leading the Aurora Tribe - and her not-so-personal favorite, if she was to marry soon.

Suki was beset by similar questions, most of them regarding her relationship to the Prince Sokka, and what her barbaric life as a Kyoshi-Shaman must be like. Toph clung blindly and bitterly to her sisters arm, responding to compliments and questions with silence and a cold shoulder.

Kimba found them, somehow, through the thick of the crowd; she yelled several things out to their now nearly frantic audience, who responded with wails of disapproval and resentment. Kimba, however, stood her ground, speaking on in the Aurora tongue until the people began to disperse somewhat. When enough people had disappeared into the maze-like city, she encouraged them to put up their hoods so that they wouldn't be recognized so easily, even though it was fairly clear weather. Then she took Katara by the arm in an effort to lead her near where her brother and the Avatar were staying, but the ice-coated building the two men shared was so thickly surrounded by admirers they could not dare to be seen.

"This is not good," Kimba held them all back from the crowd before the were noticed by the masses. "We'll be blocked in no matter where -"

"Kimba!"

The voice that rang out was withered with age, but strong in conviction. It drew Kimba's head around immediately, and Katara was relieved to see a smile spread across her face. The woman who pushed her way through the crowds had deep lines upon her face, but she was elegant in her age, light gray hair pulled back from her face to reveal two lovely, blue-gray eyes not misted with age. There was a gracious, gentle, confident way in which she carried herself, and from the moment Katara saw her she knew she could trust her with her life.

"Yugoda!" Kimba embraced the old woman dearly as soon as she muscled her way through the crowd. Yugoda smiled and hugged her back dearly, if briefly, for their situation was a little cramped.

"Looking for this one?" Yugoda grinned, and Aang appeared suddenly at her hip, looking awkwardly young and small in his gigantic fur cloak, hood drawn up over his bald, tattooed head. He grinned at Katara and Toph

"This is Yugoda," Kimba introduced the smiling woman happily. Aang, who had already met the woman, stood back while the short greetings were exchanged.

"Katara, Toph, Suki," she grabbed all of their hands warmly, but let go almost immediately. "I'm afraid introductions will have to come later - you and the Avatar are already running late for your first day of training."

She went to lead them away (again, suddenly, lest they disturb the masses). Katara was the first one to stop in remembrance of her brother, who had not arrived with Aang (this irritated Toph a little, who was still clinging sourly to her arm).

"Wait, what about...?"

"The Prince has already left with Arnook. They have much to talk about, I'd think," Yugoda said comfortingly, before taking her hand and leading the way through the ice-coated streets. Aang found a spot beside her, still shielded overly-so by his massive fur cloak.

"S'not wha' I much expect'd, y'know," Aang said nervously as they ducked the crowds behind Kimba and Yugoda, who led them down a very unused side-street where only beggars lined the edges. Katara's heart sank when she saw them, but she tried to assure herself that all cities had beggars - not matter how prosperous a place it seemed.

"They'll calm down after a few days," Kimba assured him from ahead. "They're just excited - and who can blame them? You're arrival has brought us all new hope."

That left Aang with a sour, uneasy feeling in his stomach, and he grimaced as he walked.

--

--

Arnook had come for Sokka almost as soon as he was out of bed. The tired Prince had dragged his feet behind the Chief of the Bear Clan, thinking mostly of Suki and his absent father, and lured by the promise of breakfast. Arnook chatted to him in a friendly manner as they walked, as though trying to distract him from the rumbling of his stomach and the stares of all the people as they passed.

Sokka was finding it increasingly unnerving how the people of the Aurora Tribe regarded him. He assumed the reputation of his father had proceeded him, and being Hakoda's son he was seen as an equally benevolent hero - only Sokka had never been in a position to lead, always following the rugged General or his cruel, adoptive father, Fong. He had commanded respect from the other soldiers, and had been Jeong-Jeong's right hand man many a time in Acchai, but even then this was due mostly to his parentage, not his own achievement. It made Sokka feel like a cheater amongst conquerors, unworthy to stand beside them.

Despite his own doubts, women squeeled when he walked by, detained only by stern looks from Arnook; men bowed their heads obediently, as though he had already taken his father's place as Head Chief. In relief, Arnook led him inside a vast ice-building, carven with many likenesses of the Moon Spirit, similar to the one carved upon the ceiling of the Main Hall. That thought led Sokka abruptly, hungrily to Suki, who had shown such fear in the presence of her mural. It still haunted him, the terrified look in her eyes as she stared up at Yue, as though he was seeing a real ghost instead of a painting.

They found their way into a private study of Arnook's, where a breakfast was already set up for them, fresh and steaming. Unfamiliar food glared at Sokka; fried north fish and raw fish, mole-bear steak and seaweed roles, prickly sea-fruits, smoked seal jerky and seaweed-powdered noodles. In no way were these food of Acchai, or of any other nation for that matter - but Sokka took to them like a starved man to a banquet, which endlessly amused Arnook (Hakoda had been just the same way at Sokka's age). Hardly even allowing enough time for Arnook to sit down, Sokka had already downed three seaweed rolls before he realized he despised their taste, and took a hesitant sip from his glass, full of a syrupy-looking drink. He was surprised to find the dark liquid tasted uncharacteristically light; Arnook smiled to himself when he saw the Prince's reaction, lifting a fork-full of fried fish to his own lips.

"What is this? It tastes almost like water," Sokka asked, quizzically.

"It is a seaweed wine. It's traditional, and is very mild - I myself could go for something stronger. Do you mind?" Arnook said it with one knowing eye on Sokka, who - like many men of Acchai - possessed a look that merited a harder drink. Sokka nodded gratefully as the Chief beckoned for some sake, imported from the East, and a rare delicacy to the Acchain man. As soon as the alcohol was on the table, Sokka downed a glass, before returning ravenously to his breakfast. Arnook waited a few moments, picking disinterestedly at his own food while Sokka scarfed down enough meat to feed a family of five.

"How is it?" he asked, finally, as Sokka grew near to finishing the entire mole-bear steak set before him.

Sokka's mouth was so full his face looked like it had turned into puffer-bird cheeks. He opened his mouth to respond, thought better before he spat food all over the Chief, and closed it again, giving a very brief but enthusiastic thumbs-up. Arnook grinned, having not eaten very much himself, fork sticking idly at his fish and steamed seaweed roll.

"Nothing like Acchain food though, eh?"

"Nothing at all," Sokka had to agree after swallowing, and a smile spread across Arnook's face. "Acchai hardly has any fish... "

"I hear the curry's good, especially in the south," Arnook seemed to speak Sokka's language, fluent in the tongues of food. The Prince even stopped eating as the conversation opened up, though he still routinely piled food into his mouth at every break.

"Yeah. Spicier the better, how's I see it. Not fireflake hot though, that's suicide..."

"I went there once, with Hakoda. We had a... a kind of curry bread. Do you know...?"

"Kare-pan. The fat bread, yeah."

"The what?" Arnook thought he had misheard, and Sokka laughed because he hadn't.

"Call it fat bread, 'cause the fat women make it. It's a compliment, actually. In Acchai, we know who the good cooking women are, even before we've tasted the food. They're the big ones, you know. Out there, a man's more on to getting himself a nice, fat wife before a pretty-eyed stick."

Even the very well-poised Arnook had to laugh at this, which in turn made Sokka laugh - for until this point the Prince had not realized anything particularly funny about life in Acchai, and it was unusually refreshing. Even with his father's neglect hanging over his head, and the impact of this new culture in the Aurora Tribe, he found comedy. It was infinitely entertaining, actually, to think about the last time he'd ate and drunk so easily in Acchai - especially the one and only time he had witnessed Jeong-Jeong getting smashed, and the General had swiftly taken it upon himself to throw his own mole-bear cloak over his head and roar like a mad lion. He had then proceeded to chase one of the new soldiers around the campsite with a branding iron and pass out drunk beside a goat-mule, which started and kicked and bolted away.

"They have sake in Acchai?" as Arnook downed his own glass and Sokka grinned between bites.

"Yeah, but its not as good as this. If you really want a kick, you should try the rye brandy the soldiers get. Real man's drink..."

"Maybe one day we'll drink it together, then," Arnook smiled as Sokka looked up at him quizzically, mouth full of noodles and fish. "Regrettably, however... I'm afraid we have more to to talk about than curry and brandy."

"Well..." a fleeting, sheepish look passed across the Prince's face "Heh, pity then."

"Yes," Arnook smiled, before Sokka could make himself look like a fool anymore than he already was. A shameful look crossed the Chief's face, and he placed his arms solemnly in his lap. "I'm shamed to say I need your help. Well... the Aurora Tribe needs your help. We are a failing nation, Sokka -"

"What are you talking about? The people here must be better fed than half the land of Acchai!" and Sokka was proving it with the number of pickled crab-cakes he was shoving down his throat. Arnook smiled sadly at Sokka's blind enthusiasm, kindly ignoring the fact the Prince had just interrupted him.

"We have enough food, that is true," he agreed unwillingly, before taking another swift drink from his sake. "But there is more to living than food. Ever since the Union went to War... we've been deteriorating."

Sokka stopped shoveling food in his mouth long enough to focus, somewhat, on what Arnook was saying. His head was still kind of full of fat women coking curry bread, and he had to train his attention on the Chief

"...What do you mean?" he asked, a little bit hesitantly.

"We used to trade with a few posts in the Union and the Empire. It kept our economy alive, kept our culture flowing. We sent out sealskin, pelts, gem-coral, even fresh water for some desperate cities... but over the last twenty years the Empire has stopped trading with us. We managed to make more posts in the Union, but it was nowhere near what it once was. And now, with the Civil War rising... the Union has cut off trade as well. The Chosen King, it seemed, believes it would be best to stop foreign contact until internal affairs are settled."

"...So what does that mean for you?" Sokka was almost afraid to ask. He had dealt with small trade struggles back in Al-Abhad - but they were probably nowhere near as classy as the policies of the Aurora Tribe. More often than not, Lords would take what they needed before negotiating trade routes, but Fong had still done his share in his time, and Sokka had a vague idea of how they worked.

"It means that in a few years the Aurora Tribe will be a deteriorated city. We have survived on the wood and oil sent by the Union, as well as various odd supplies - clay, leather, iron and other metals for some of our defenses. Ice does not hold up well against flaming catapults, you see. Wood, however, was our main import. Without it we have no way to cook food, to light homes - to keep ourselves warm at night."

"What did you trade them? For the wood?"

"The same as we did for the Empire - furs, sealskin, gems, water. But it seems the Union has little need of those things in times of war."

Arnook took another drink of sake, looking very tired and anxious suddenly in the dim light.

"Does my father know of this?" Sokka asked, but at the word 'father' his voice shook considerably. He had still not come to regard Hakoda very fondly, despite what encouraging words he may have spoken.

"He does. It was him, in fact, who told me you were regarded as quite a genius amongst your own people," Arnook's grin returned swiftly, assuringly. "I was hoping, perhaps, with your father's same mind, you might be able to create a solution in his absence."

Sokka had never felt the weight of the world crash down quite so heavily on his shoulders than it did at that moment. Combined with the conflicted feelings of his father speaking so highly of him, and the crushing unfairness of having the future of entire civilization placed suddenly on his shoulders - it was enough to make him feel sick, and he stopped chewing his food as though it had suddenly turned to ash in his mouth. He thought of the masses of people in the streets who had come to greet them with such gusto, and for no wonder - they believed Sokka, Prince Sokka, could save them from this future depression, of an entire nation freezing to death. This Acchain man, born of an Aurora Tribe woman, staring at Arnook and into this doom, a naive and unwilling savior. At least Zuko had been given a forewarning.

"I... I don't know -" Sokka stuttered, put his fork down. Arnook raised his hand consolingly, as though to assure him.

"Of course I'll give you time to think about it. And don't feel pressured," Arnook nodded encouragingly to the Prince, before resuming eating his own food. "I just want to stop this problem before it begins."

Sokka's appetite was gone. He had the same feeling in his stomach as Aang had, not minutes before.

--

--

"Katara, Aang - this is Master Pakku."

Katara looked at the man before her with obvious disbelief. His expression was even more resentful and unpleasant than it had been on the ice two days ago.

"You?" Katara uttered it in blind shock, as Pakku raised an eyebrow.

"My name is Pakku. I believe you only pronounced the last syllable," the man said stiffly. Yugoda made a noise not unlike a disapproving snort, but Pakku seemed not to notice. "And in case you were not aware, we have all been waiting on you."

"We're sorry, Master, the crowds were -"

"I don't want you're excuses! Line up - Avatar, in the front," Pakku gestured blatantly to Aang, and then turned his back to the new pupils. Yugoda huffed at the Master's back, before taking both Suki and Toph by their hands, as it was a waterbending session and they were not such.

"Come along now, both of you - I'll take you to where your magnificent bison is..."

Toph did not want to leave her sister, visibly distressed by the separation, but there was nothing the waterbender could do. Suki tried to talk reassuringly to the blind earthbender, but Toph still knew Suki only very superficially, and their parallel personalities were almost in danger of rubbing each other the wrong way. Yugoda would probably be able to mediate between them, but Toph was very protective of her brother and already had a rather cold disposition towards the Kyoshi-Shaman.

The class was already assembled in rows of five, most of them boys, on the icy training platform overlooking one of the denser districts of the city. It was slick and hard to walk on, which may have been part of the point; but Katara, who had lived her whole life on rugged sand, needed to hang onto Kimba's arms as she walked to her spot. The two girls stood side-by-side as the training began, Pakku roaring out instructions like he was god speaking to mere mortals.

"Spread your feet! Relax your bodies! How can you let the chi flow if you are rigid as boards? Katara, Kimba! Lower your shoulders! You are not hunchbacked, are you?"

"God, I think I might kill him..." Katara muttered, and Kimba responded in amusement:

"Ignore him. That's what I do. He thinks the male students are all better than us anyway, the ass."

From then on Katara glued herself to Kimba's hip, as Pakku began his waterbending exercises. They began with fairly simple stretching and breathing movements, to get the flow of their chi moving well; Katara had done this sort of thing since she was small, and the gestures came to her easily. Her grace and mastery of the movement, however, went mostly unnoticed by Pakku, who was more concerned with correcting Aang's every little mistake. Perhaps it was because he was the Avatar, but Master Pakku seemed to be particularly strict with Aang, even moreso than his other students - which was saying something. The sun rose steadily as they practiced - it was not a basics class, but it was fairly low-level, and most of the there students were even younger than Aang, staring at the Avatar like a spirit descended amongst them. At about noontime he began to teach them a complicated exercise pattern that involved weaving separate streams of water up and down and around each other, always focusing on not letting them touch - and getting severely reprimanded at every mistake.

The movements came easily to Katara, and as time wore on her thoughts began to stray. She wondered, achingly, where Zuko was at the moment - if he was still alive, even. The thought of the firebender uniting Acchai was not impossible to the waterbender, but she knew the ultimate dangers of the barbarian lands, and there was fear in her heart for Zuko. She closed her eyes and tried to imagine him, safe beside the General, but that thought brought her no comfort - for how safe was the General? Yet her father was there to protect him, and that eased her worry a bit. The air was cold, despite her layers of furs, and she felt her mind stray further, past the terror of the Emperor's Palace and the confusion of Aang's destruction and then...

Then there was only warmth, fleeting warmth, in the memory of the docks, in the way his lips caressed her, strong and gentle...

The complicated patterns of hovering water-streaks before her became messed a little, overlapped on each other. Pakku noticed it instantly, and in one swift motion slammed his foot down into the ice before Katara's feet, bending the water outwards in a thousand droplets, much to her sudden astonishment - then he allowed it to return over her head, drenching her from head to foot when he released it. She cried out in surprise, clutching her frigid body in fright, as a few of the more arrogant boys laughed to themselves.

"What the hell do you -!" Katara started, abruptly cold and shivering and enraged.

"You are not paying attention!" Pakku chided her, bending a few large icicles suddenly to his hand, and then shoving them swiftly, uninterestedly, into her hand. "Here - target practice. You and the rest of the back row. Hit the middle of the pillar, while I take the others aside to train at water-whips."

A loud groan emitted from the back row, as water-whips were what everyone looked forward to doing in training. They were the most difficult task at this level - afterwards was higher things, multiple ice-daggers, massive waves, whirlpools and the like. A few of them grumbled unpleasantly at Katara as they went towards the target-pillars (where the target was a blue-shaded spot about two inches wide) but Kimba effectively silenced them with a glare, and a reminder that Pakku was the asshole, not their new Princess. Kimba even helped Katara waterbend her clothes dry, lest she freeze at the arctic temperature.

"I'm sorry, Master Pakku," Katara tried to tell the Master as she walked towards the target. Pakku cast her a sideways glance that, as iron and irritated and humorless as it ever was, nonetheless seemed minutely pleased that she had found it fit to apologize.

"Get your mind off of boys and back onto your task. I have no patience for daydreamers."

He turned back to the rest of the class then, leaving Katara bewildered and infuriated at his assumptions and innuendos, and probably moreso because it had been a good guess. Kimba managed to drag her away before she attacked the older man, knowing she no match for the Master despite her inherent talent.

"What is his problem?" Katara seethed, raising an ice dagger in the air before her and sending it flying wildly, angrily, at the target. She missed the middle by about two feet. In rising fury she raised another one and sent it careening, flying clear past the pillar and vaulting down into the street below. It tore open the roof of a coral-cart, much to the owner's loud despair and disapproval. Kimba had to withhold a laugh, lest she incite Katara further to anger, and instead took aim at her own target, noting in the meantime:

"Yugoda says he needs a good lay."

Katara flung her next ice-dagger so wildly it almost tore through the arm of another student and she had to apologize. Kimba grinned lightly at Katara's reaction - one of total and obvious disgust.

"Ew! Oh my god -"

"I know! He never got married, you know. The woman he proposed to didn't accept him."

"Oh..." Katara felt sudden sympathy for the Master, though it was replaced quickly with her consuming rage. "Well, that's kind of sad. I guess."

"Really? For him or the girl he proposed to?"

Katara couldn't hide her laughter after that, but luckily the all-seeing Pakku disregarded her mirth to interrupt some new fancy of Aang's.

"Avatar, what do you think you're doing?"

Aang looked up, bewildered and ashamed, from what he was doing. While all the other pupils were bust trying to perfect their water-whips (even though most of them were missing their targets terribly, and wildly smacking the students alongside them) he had steadily distracted himself by carving out a likeness of Momo from a subtle block of ice. It was hollow and wind whistled through it like a flute; it was actually an ingenious creation, but Pakku was not the type to encourage creativity in his lessons.

"Sorry, Sa', I ain't nev'r done nothin' like this 'fore - and couldn' be too bad, a' mean, is fun, y'know, doin' stuff with th' ice -"

"Fun?" Pakku roared, and his face went abruptly red with rage. "Can you fight an army with snowflakes, Avatar? Can you distract them by making ice sculptures? Perhaps if we taught our enemies the art of oragmi, they would rather make paper cranes than burn our cities down! Or maybe you can solve wars with a snowball fight, Avatar? Cease being ridiculous! You lack discipline, you lack drive -"

"Master Pakku... ?"

A small, twitchy little boy of about seven had appeared, randomly, behind the Master. He was a tiny thing, hardly big enough to reach the Master's waist, and he looked positively petrified of Pakku. Katara had immediate pity for him as Pakku whirled on him like a thunderstorm, Aang at a loss for words, the rest of the students simply eager to see the events unfold.

"What do you want?" snapped Pakku wildly at the messenger. The tiny sculpture in Aang's hand melted miserably, and he folded his hands together.

"The - the Guru Pathik requests the Avatar's presence," the boy said shakily, uncertainly in the waterbender's presence. Pakku huffed in blatant annoyance, and turned away so briskly it seemed rather like he had no care for the Avatar at all, which was kind of unnerving and relieving for Aang.

"Let him go. He's done nothing but make snow angels anyway, the fool," and instantly Pakku was back to correcting the stances of his students, and getting everyone's focus back on their training. Aang only managed a short revolt in the time it took for paku to disregard him.

"'Ey, I didn' -"

"Go on!" Pakku practically pushed him towards the twitchy boy, and Aang stumbled past the other students. There was not much warning or preparation, and in a weird way it was reminiscent of Acchai, in that Pakku got to the point very much like Jeong-Jeong, though with less cold savagery and more heated annoyance.

"See ya' 'round, I guess," Aang said uncertainly to Katara. Then he staggered through the snow after the boy, who was looking up at him as though he was some savior sent from heaven, eyes wide and shining in the sunlight. Kimba and Katara, being at the back, had the luxury of ignoring Pakku for the next few moments as he focused on the pupils up front, and waved goodbye to the Avatar.

"So, how long have you known him?" Kimba whispered aside to her before Pakku could bear down upon them.

"Not long at all... he came from the Union."

"The Union? Did he tell you anything about it?"

"He didn't, but..."

Conversations in the depths of the Library. The faint blue glow of healing water. His fingers tracing the line of her lip, beneath the light of a thousand falling stars.

"There was another man... who came with him..."

"Back to your task!" the Master suddenly called out, seeing the girls gabbing. "Raw talent is nothing if it is not trained!"

Pakku thumped the back of both of their heads, and Kimba and Katara regrettably returned to their training.