ARC 3: A Mountain Divides Them Apart
DAY 19: Shiver
"And to this day," Katara says in her eeriest voice, "the house stands empty. But sometimes…people see plumes of smoke rising in the distance, as though little Nini is still trying to get warm."
There is silence around the fire. Both Aang and Toph are clinging to Sokka, who clutches his sword. She's almost amused, except a voice comes out of the darkness and then she's shrieking right along with them. The baby in her lap jerks awake, wailing at the intruder that had dared to interrupt her sleep.
"Forgive me," an old lady says, stepping into the firelight, "But I couldn't help overhearing you all."
They all laugh nervously, feeding the old woman their Fire Nation colonists we're-ignorant-please-pity-us spiel. The old woman laughs with them, but insists, "These woods are no place for children; come to my in and I'll give you spiced tea and warm beds."
Sokka, still pasty and white, agrees without a second thought "Yes, please."
Several days later, Katara looks at herself in the mirror. She's lost a lot of weight in the four weeks since Aikka was born. Enough that it should concern her, enough that she feels like a scarecrow with boobs. She sighs.
At least her stomach isn't too embarrassing to show, even if there are stretch marks. There's something about being a mother that makes her feel self-conscious, as if she should still be a child playing in the snow, not totting around an infant. But there are many women who become mothers at the age of seventeen (she's sure at least a few people in her tribe would be praising the spirits she managed to bear a child so late). Katara sheds these thoughts. She loves her baby, more than anything.
The little monster in question wiggles on the bed.
"Are you happy to see mommy?" she coos, ticking her belly.
Somebody has fixed a little red bow in her hair and when Katara leans over her, she smiles. Aikka is a pleasantly plump baby, dark haired and golden-eyed. Clearly a Fire Nation child (none of her friends talk about the color of her eyes or the fact that her skin is shades lighter than her mother's), clearly Zuko's child. Katara smiles sadly.
The prince has been in the Fire Nation for nearly a month now and each town they pass through is still buzzing all about it. The poor think he will save them (he'd certainly be a better Fire Lord than Azula, if he lives that long), the middle class are wholly supporting him, and the wealthy seem to despise him (they have a lot to lose). Katara thinks that is they ever meet again, it will be on the battlefield and she will end him.
Aikka gurgles. She sticks her little pink tongue out and Katara tugs at it gently. Those little golden eyes are happy and ignorant for now, but one day she'll want to know who her father was. Katara doesn't think she could admit to killing him (sometimes, she's not sure she could ever bring herself to hurt him). Underneath all the despair and rage and raw hurt, she understands. The lure of home was far too strong for Zuko. Katara hopes it was worth it.
Then, as if to comfort her mother, Aikka makes a plaintive sound. It's the kind that says feed me, mommy! Katara sighs, but it takes her mind off the past.
Sokka knocks a few minutes later, just as she is attaching the baby to her breast.
"I'm feeding the baby," she calls, "Come in if you dare."
She pulls the thing blanket over herself and the baby. Sokka peeks a head in, then strolls in casually (as if he wasn't making sure the coast was clear—for a man who managed to sit through her labor, he can't seem to stand the thought of her breastfeeding). He shuts the door behind him, then his easy going expression is replaced with one a great deal more serious.
"I don't want to stay here," he sprawling on the bed, "I know Hama is important to you, but this place gives be the shivers."
They've been over this dozens of times.
"Sokka, it's just a creepy looking in. Everything is perfectly fine with this town." She says.
"I just have this feeling," he says, "It's not safe here, Katara."
"She's just a little old lady in her little old in her little old inn."
"Her creepy little inn."
Katara sighs.
"Just a few more days?" she pleads, "For me?"
Her brother rolls his eyes. They both know he would capture a Fire Nation cruiser for her (and she'd easily do the same).
"Two days," he says, "Promise me now."
"Two days." She promises with a smile.
Katara fights to breath. She's kneeling in the dirt, tears streaming down her cheeks. Her limbs won't obey her and she's afraid.
"You should have learned the technique before turning against me, Katara," The old woman cackles from a dozen yards away, "It's impossible to break your way out of my grip. I control every muscle, every vein in your body."
Her body dances from side to side, an impossible pressure squeezing out her insides and yet she can hardly cry out.
"Stop," She gasps weakly, "Please."
She struggles against the grip on her limbs, the jerky movements rousing Aikka from the sling on her back. The baby wails and Hama's face turns grim.
"Your judgement is clearly clouded by your Fire Nation bastard and no doubt by the man that ruined you," she says, "But we'll be rid of them yet and show them the price for such liberties. I'll make a bloodbender out of you yet."
"No!" Katara cries.
Katara stands, reaching one hand back to quiet her child. Hama's eyes widen in surprise, shock, panic.
"You're not the only one who draws power from the moon," Katara growls, "I'm a stronger bender; your technique is useless upon me."
She faces the woman who dared threaten her child and that night she becomes a monster she'd never thought to imagine.
In the many years he's been gone, Zuko has imagined a million homecomings. His was greater than any mere hope, any aspiration. But once the celebrations have finished and Father's focus returns to the way, he feels as though he has been cast out into space.
He's returned home. But he finds that nothing it what he'd hoped.
Uncle is in prison. He doesn't speak, doesn't react, and doesn't move. For all the years he'd hoped Uncle would shut up, the man finally has and Zuko would give anything else for a single word of guidance.
Katara is gone. He doesn't know where she is or how she is. She could be dead for all he knows. Maybe she died in childbirth. Maybe she's holed up somewhere in the Earth Kingdom, nursing an infant and burning with hatred for him (he tries not to wonder whether his child is a girl or a boy, what he look like, what she's named the child). She was supposed to be by his side. But he's alone.
Well…never truly alone. Surrounded by vipers. Azula, disconcerting bubby Ty-Lee, silent Mai who would lure him to her bed. Servants. Strangers. Shadows.
Zuko tip toes a thin line, a turtle-duck among fox-swans.
He hates it.
Father summons him for the first time since returning home. Zuko would be lying if he claimed to be free of fear (only an idiot would not fear the fatherlord). And still, he reports faithfully to the throne room. He bows, head down, and waits.
"Azula tells me your waterbender was in Ba Sing Se."
His inability to keep custody of her proved to be the final straw for Father.
"Yes." he admits, swallowing.
"Rise, Prince Zuko," his father says, "And tell me the nature of your relations with her."
And so Zuko does the only thing he can think of. He lies with the truth. He "admits" his intentions to keep her as a concubine, confirms her pregnancy (Azula has probably spun her own story and Zuko needs to find out why), and declares his own incompetence. He doesn't expect to make it out of the room alive.
Father is silent. The flames flicker thoughtfully on the dais.
"I must say, she would make a fitting concubine," Ozai finally says, "Although a bastard is unacceptable. I commend you for your initiative. The child will be taken care of, but you may have the woman."
He panics for a moment, thinking that Katara must be in Fire Nation custody. But then his Father continues.
"She will be retrieved and presented as an engagement gift, from myself to you."
"Engagement?" Zuko all but squeaks.