Author's Note: Thanks for all your reviews and comments and such! They make me smile when I'm feeling down :D Here is the next chapter. College is still crazy-this week was pretty horrible haha-but I got it up! Hope you like it...let me know (p.s. I know it's a filler chapter, but it's cute so w/e)! Also, the poem referenced is "Like The Water" by Wendell Berry, and you can read all of it here (I think it's really beautiful): poets/wendell_

Disclaimer: I do not own a:tla blah blah ugh (I don't own "like the water" either)

Prince Sokka went out hunting with a group of nobles from the capital the next day. Zuko wasn't allowed to go as Sokka figured he'd try to escape. Which was ridiculous, because even if he did escape—even if he wanted to escape—where could he go? As it turned out, being stuck in the palace wasn't all bad. Zuko got to follow Jin around all day and help with her chores. They were on the receiving end of a few glares and low grumblings, but Zuko paid them no mind. There was nothing wrong with him helping out, and he told Jin as much when she expressed her worry.

"You're my friend. I really don't mind, and neither should you," he insisted as he carried a second load of laundry from the third floor to the first. Apparently, there was a rather important event coming up in a few weeks. Nobles from the Northern and Southern Water tribes had been invited to the capital for a Supreme War Council followed by a banquet and a ball.

Of course they'd want to have a ball to celebrate the planning of total world domination, Zuko had thought, disgusted, when he first heard about the event. Immediately after that, he had realized that this was the perfect opportunity to exact his revenge on the most important people in the Water Empire. They'd all be gathered in one convenient location. He could wipe them out in one fell swoop.

Jin had kept chattering on while he thought about this, so he completely missed her instructions on how to properly dress the beds. She was currently chastising him for it.

"No, Zuko, the fitted sheet goes under the flat one. Did you hear anything I said earlier?"

Zuko smiled sheepishly at her and undid his latest attempt at bed-making.

She sighed and laughed tiredly at him. "You're hopeless. I feel bad for whoever you end up marrying."

Zuko glanced up at that, and their eyes met for a brief moment. Her cheeks immediately flushed and she turned her attention to the sheets, suddenly very intent to get rid of all the wrinkles in the wrinkle-less fabric. Zuko merely watched her for a few moments before returning to his own work.

It's not like he hadn't thought about marriage before. In the Fire Nation, it wasn't unusual for a boy to marry as young as sixteen, girls even younger. Unlike the other nations, many couples were able to marry for love in the Fire Nation. Only the royal family generally married for more advantageous reasons. Before she was needed in the war, Azula was set to marry a man from a large city in the Fire Nation, one of many sons of the wealthiest family in the east. Their money was needed to fight against the Water Empire, and at that point in time, money was more important than political alliances.

Besides, their father had figured Zuko would marry an Earth Kingdom princess when he came of age to establish the Fire Nation's presence in the conquered nation. Certainly if he ever made it back—no, when he made it back—an engagement would be made at once so that when he ascended to the throne, he had a competent woman by his side to help him rule. And in the unlikely case he didn't return, his younger brother Roku would take his place. When Zuko left the fire nation there had already been arranged marriage in the works for his baby brother.

He wondered what Roku looked like now.

When he was born, he looked exactly like Zuko did as an infant. His mother had held pictures of them side by side and they were almost identical: dark, fluffy black hair with warm golden eyes. But as he grew up their differences became more obvious. Roku was chubbier, with a round face and wide eyes in comparison to Zuko's thin face and body and narrow eyes. He was also rather outspoken. Even though he couldn't technically speak using real words, he made his presence known, commanding the attention of all those around him like the Prince he was. Their mother adored him. Had she been there, Azula would have pretended to be disgusted by his drool and smelly diapers. But he would have wormed his way into her heart. Zuko loved his little brother, of course, but he also knew that Roku had been born to replace him. His existence was intentional, created for Zuko's absence. And he couldn't simply forget about that, no matter how adorable his gummy grin was.

Zuko was finishing up the bed in the last room of the hallway when Jin came to collect him.

She smiled conspiratorially, all awkwardness from before vanished. "Want to wash some royal underwear?"

Jin wasn't lying before when she said Prince Sokka's clothing was disgusting. Since Zuko was a boy, she had given him the Prince's soiled undergarments to clean, and Zuko's arm was sore from scrubbing all the stains. Jin saw him struggling and laughed as she wrung out a blue tunic Zuko thought he recognized as the Empress's. He'd seen Empress Kya a few times, usually when her path crossed with Sokka's. But it was always a tense junction. The way the Prince looked at his mother, the tone of voice when he spoke to her, the way he'd leave in the middle of their conversation, made Zuko certain he did not love her.

Zuko could not imagine being distant from his mother. His father was a good man and a good leader, but his mother was the backbone not only of Zuko's life, but of the Fire Nation as a whole. She was a non-bender but had a deep knowledge of politics and could command an army without hesitation. She was strong and tactful, but also loving and compassionate. She had been Zuko's confidante since he was a boy. He would run to her when Azula picked on him or whenever he learned a new firebending trick. And even though things had been strained ever since Roku was born, he loved her.

The Prince obviously knew nothing of love.

Zuko had just hopelessly thrown aside a pair of Sokka's underwear when a servant girl came into the room.

"Can I help you?" Jin asked. The girl, no older than 13 or 14, strode forward. She wasn't looking at Jin but walked straight toward her, a bundle of fabric in her arms. She gestured and Jin leaned down so the girl could speak into her ear. She looked familiar, somehow. Those eyes…

And then he recognized her. She had been one of the prisoners. He had only seen her once, during the first trial, but it had just been a passing glance. So she had made it through. Good for her. She was one of the lucky ones.

Not for the first time that day an image of Roz flashed across his eyes.

He leaned forward and gripped the edge of the water basin, closing his eyes tightly against the boy's face. The guilt was just as strong as it had been that day he woke up in the stone prison, and the empty feeling of failure began draining his heart of whatever happiness it had found in the past few days.

"Hey, you okay?"

Zuko turned around slowly, the image slowly fading from behind his eyes, like a portrait melting in the rain. Both Jin and the girl were standing at the other washbasin, watching him.

"Um, yeah." He cleared his throat. "I'm fine."

"It's Zuko, right?" the servant girl asked.

His eyebrows furrowed, but he nodded. "Yeah, how did you—"

"I know things," she replied with a smug grin. Zuko didn't understand what she meant by that, but didn't press the issue. He didn't really care, anyway.

"The name's Toph," she said with an outstretched hand.

"Nice to meet you." Zuko met her hand and almost shouted when she crushed his. Her smile grew.

"You too."

"I'm so pleased you two have returned," Master Udan said, smiling proudly, as he set a piece of parchment and a quill in front of Katara and Sokka. They sat beside each other, kneeling, in their old school room. Katara cast a sideways glance at her brother, who was slumped over and pouting at the prospect of getting back to their studies. He had been enjoying the freedom of doing whatever he wanted whenever he wanted. Only days ago he had gone out on an unnecessary hunting trip to hunt artic wolves, an endangered species. When Katara confronted him about it, he merely turned up his nose. "Yes, endangered for the peasants. But for me, it's open season."

Sokka was especially grumpy today considering he hadn't caught a single wolf on his excursion. Katara took secret delight in his misery. Plus they were going back to school, much to Sokka's chagrin.

Weeks ago, when they had received word of the refugees, her father had insisted they take a recess from their education to get some real-world experience.

Master Udan initially protested, as did Katara's mother, but the Emperor insisted. Katara hadn't been thrilled, but she had no right to tell her father what she should and shouldn't learn. And besides, if she was going to rule one day, she did need real-world experience.

So she and Sokka hadn't focused on their studies for weeks. Sokka had always hated their lessons. He would rather be training or perhaps drowning wolf bear pups. Katara was excited beyond words to return to Master Udan. She longed to pick up the quill and dip it into the ink, to draw characters and words and create something that did not exist before. But she was also apprehensive. She'd never had an audience quite like this.

Master Udan always oversaw their studies, and usually she and Sokka both had aids to fetch them food or supplies, or deliver and receive messages for them. They were always respectfully distant.

But today, both Toph and Zuko were here. She didn't know what to expect.

Her relationship with the Earth Kingdom girl had not improved much since she'd first come into Katara's service. There were not as many outbursts or snide comments (at least to her face) but the girl was still quiet and aloof. She would fetch the afternoon tea when asked, but it was bitter. And she would draw Katara's baths, but the water was always chilly. Perhaps Katara was simply imagining the girl's disfavor. Her father always said she was too sensitive to others' emotions. After all, Toph did everything she was told to do, and without much complaint. Really, what else could she ask for?

A friend. Secretly, when she had rescued Toph from the dungeon, she had hoped she might be grateful and express that gratitude through friendship. There was a shortage of girls around her age she was permitted to talk to in the palace, and even less she could trust to be loyal to her secrets.

Briefly, she glanced back at Toph. She sat casually against the wall, legs wide open, eyes downcast. Not the picture of propriety, but Katara kind of liked that about her.

The person next to Toph shifted and drew Katara's gaze. Their eyes met only briefly, but it was enough to unnerve her.

Zuko knelt appropriately behind Sokka, hands clasped, eyes trained on his master's back. But when he looked at her, she saw something brewing behind his placid appearance. Something exciting. Dangerous.

Katara turned away and frowned. He seemed different from when she healed him. Of course, he had been suffering from major blood loss at the time, but still. People don't change that fast. Back then he had been considerate, appreciative, even kind. Now he just seemed…angry.

Master Udan instructed them to begin. Katara started copying words off a scroll of poetry. It was not long, unlike many of the other scrolls Master Udan had presented them with, and it was old. The edges were worn, bumpy, and yellowing. But the words flowed like they had been born only moments ago.

Like the water

Of a deep stream,

Love is always too much.

We did not make it.

Though we drink till we burst,

We cannot have it all,

Or want it all.

In its abundance

It survives our thirst.

"What's that?" Sokka asked, peering over Katara's arm. She tried to shake him off, but he lost his balance and fell into her. Katara's hand dashed across the page, leaving an ugly black smudge on the words she'd just painstakingly written.

"Sokka!" she exclaimed and tried to blot the ink with the sleeve of her dress.

"Oh, don't do that your Highness," Master Udan tittered. He ordered Toph to fetch some wet cloths and she went obediently. Katara shook her head in disbelief and continued to clean the parchment, much to Master Udan's displeasure. He whined, "You'll stain your lovely dress…."

But she wasn't paying attention to him. Sokka still leaned over Katara, reading what she'd copied with a sour look on his face. "Why're you bothering with poetry?" He spit the word out like dirt.

"Because," Katara started, "some of us know how to appreciate the beauty of literature."

"This is literature!" He held up his scroll, causing the wet ink to drip messily down the page. It was an excerpt from one of General Attika's battle plans. Katara pushed it away.

"Oh please."

"It is!"

"It is not. And your handwriting is practically indecipherable. A catfish-squid could do a better job. And they don't even have hands."

A snicker came from behind them, and they both whipped around to see Zuko covering his mouth with his hand. A smile tugged at the tip of Katara's lips. That was more like it.

"And what are you laughing at?" Sokka growled and moved as if to strike Zuko.

Just then, Toph re-entered the room bearing a bundle of damp towels and hurried over to Katara. Luckily, Sokka mellowed at the interruption. He glared at Zuko with warning, but returned to his parchment. Toph knelt next to Katara and began dabbing at her sleeve. Katara was surprised. She had expected her to wipe it and make the stain worse.

The girl's hands moved expertly on her arm even though her eyes were trained on the wooden floor. Katara wondered how many others had noticed—or been informed—of Toph's impairment. She did a good job of hiding it. She was more than competent with everything except reading and writing. Reading was surely out of the question, but she could probably even learn to write, with a good teacher.

Katara placed a gentle hand on the other girl, stilling her. "I think it's hopeless." Toph merely shrugged and relinquished the towel to her. Katara felt the brush of the girl's robes as she took her place beside Zuko.

She was right about the dress. The fabric was completely ruined, but she had managed to salvage her parchment, at least. The characters were a bit blurred, and spots of ink had burrowed in the thin material of the page, but she could still read it. She finished the poem with extra caution, determined to get it perfect.

We enter,

Willing to die,

Into the commonwealth of its joy.