Three Families Chapter 13: Chiyo, an avatar: last airbender fanfic

Have any guesses yet?

"...Did you really buy a tsungi horn?" Zuko asked, incredulous.

"I thought I would try to get some proper instruments, so that music night would be more successful," Iroh said pleasantly. While Zuko was relieved that his uncle had returned to the more familiar scarlet and black robes which he'd worn for much of his life, his return to free-spending and almost childlike inability to budget was setting Zuko's teeth to a steady grind. Unlike everybody else, he knew that there was no end-date for this exile. Whatever money they had was going to have to last, forever.

"Uncle, the only way music night will ever be a success with this crew, is by getting a new crew."

"Pah," Uncle said dismissively. "I know that they're just restricted by their instruments. I wager if I could find a good pipa, and get it into Jee's hands..."

Zuko turned away with a growl, and doing so saw him turn right into a middle aged man with the flaring helm of the Imperial firebenders. Zuko gave a quick glance past him, to the gangplank which was down over the side, and then back to the intruder, even if it was one from his own nation. "What are you doing on my ship?" Zuko demanded.

"We have orders to search this vessel," the man said, shoving a document at Zuko, clearly with the intention to push the younger man back a few steps. Zuko proved to be a bit more solid than the firebender would have expected.

"And what are you looking for? Musical instruments?" Iroh asked. "Well, you can't have my tsungi horn. I just got it! I even kept the receipt!"

"I don't care about your instruments," the soldier said. "We believe a person of interest may have stowed away on your ship."

Zuko quickly unfurled the notice and gave it a quick scan. When he did, he let fire flare in his hands and reduce the orders to ashes. "This is madness! You have no jurisdiction here!"

"Are you standing in the way of a lawful search?" he asked, as the men he'd brought with him made their best effort to loom. Zuko wasn't impressed.

"No," Zuko said, leaning forward. "Because this is the furthest thing from a lawful search that I can think of. And I can think of only one person who'd authorize this. I will not let Zhao scupper my ship out of petty vengeance."

"You will allow whatever the powers that be demand you to."

"Prince Zuko, perhaps you should..."

"Not now, Uncle!"

Iroh's eyes got a hard set to them. "Nephew, whatever these men are looking for, they will not find it on my ship. I can guarantee this."

Zuko glared at the man. "Especially since I know who you're looking for. She's not here. The last time I saw her was weeks ago," Zuko said, choking down bile in his throat for rage. But not for what they thought.

"Then you won't mind if we give the ship a thorough inspection?" the man said smugly. Zuko let out a flare of flame and stepped aside, his eyes averted as though in shame. The soldier chuckled and moved into the cabins, two of his lackeys remaining outside to prevent Zuko or Iroh from interfering. Zuko stormed away, standing at the prow of the ship, staring into the harbor of this dirty, desperate looking town. Once again, the ship was damaged, and they'd had to stop for repairs. He could have picked a better spot blindfolded and drunk, though. This town used to be a trade port for this entire section of the northern Earth Kingdoms, but the constant beatings by storms and the twenty nine cases of it being sacked by various pirate kings over the last century had starved the settlement practically to death. There was a time where Zuko wouldn't have thought twice about places like this. Now, they were all that occupied his mind. Because there was no going home. This was his home now, on this creaky, rusty boat, with terrible musicians, adequate food, and what remained of his family.

Zuko tilted a glance from his left eye to Iroh as the old man approached gingerly, as though attempting to spare himself Zuko's wrath. "They won't find her," Iroh said in a placating tone.

"I'm perfectly confident of that," Zuko muttered in angry tones, belying their meaning. The men at the back would probably be listening, but at this distance, the only thing they would hear would be occasional words and the emotional content of the dialogue. And with all he'd been through recently, Zuko had gotten very good at hiding what he was really feeling. "They'll never think to look where she really is, but they shouldn't even be looking for her! Zhao wouldn't risk looking like that kind of an idiot!"

Iroh made obvious calming motions with his hands, but his eyes had a conspiratorial glint. "He didn't have her very long, and whatever he wanted with her, he obviously didn't get it. Besides, he wouldn't want to spoil his elevation with why he's trying to find your sister. Nobility are supposed to be better than the rest of the people. They're not allowed to make mistakes!"

Zuko turned and hurled a blast of flame over the rail with a grunt of angry effort, before stalking to the other side of the ship and leaning over it, but a smirk was on his lips. "If there's one great constant in the universe, Uncle, it's that Zhao will always be a screw-up. I just wish I could have seen the look on his face when he realized that he'd lost everything he'd scratched for."

"Don't tell me you're taking pleasure in the newly minted lord's failure," Iroh said scandalously.

"It was the first time in months I felt like drinking with the men!" Zuko snapped.

"You really shouldn't have done that, last time," Iroh said calmly, and in this at least, the sternness was genuine.

"It snuck up on me," Zuko's voice let some of his embarrassment through. "I thought, what's one cup?"

"One cup is the first step toward two, which quickly becomes twenty, and that is the shortest path to waking up wearing women's underwear in the bedding of one of the messenger's Eel Hounds," Iroh said sagely, and perhaps too confidently. Zuko just stared at his uncle for a long moment, before pointedly stifling a chuckle. It would destroy the facade they were trying to put forth, after all, if Zuko suddenly burst out laughing. "Did I say something funny?"

Zuko turned away from the old man, if only so the impish look Iroh was giving wouldn't change into something else. There was one thing about Iroh which Zuko actually was happy to see return, it was his ability to drag up morale, no matter what misfortune was transpiring. Especially with the way this boat seemed to be cursed toward misfortune. Zuko had often noted that its name fit at least two different definitions of the term 'irony'. "Do you think they'll scour the bilges?" Zuko asked.

"They know Azula. Or at least Zhao does," Iroh answered, as though imparting some great wisdom.

Zuko let out a derisive snort and turned to face his uncle, staring down at him with his face pulled into an expression of contempt. "That's about the best thing I've heard today," Zuko said with scathing tone. "They'll never think to look in the right place."

"Of course they won't," Iroh said, backing away with another placating gesture. "Zhao is many things, but creative he is not. I don't understand why he believes the things he does, but..."

"Maybe because there might be some truth to them," Zuko said quietly, before turning to the surf once more. Uncle didn't have anything to say to that. Mostly because a month ago, Zuko would have called the idea of Azula – his little sister, the one who Mom had a figurative tug-of-war with against Father for time and attention – could possibly see the future, was utterly absurd. But she'd been right about Kyoshi. She'd been right about Crescent Island. How she knew, she wouldn't tell. Dare say couldn't tell. But she was right. Maybe Zhao's moronic assertion wasn't quite so far off the mark. Maybe... just maybe... Azula really was some sort of oracle.

Zuko turned back as the stomping of bootheels returned to the deck, and that officer made his displeasure known not through words but through a thunderhead demeanor and an expression like he was going to chew rivets. Zuko turned and met the man half way, refreshing the indignant wrath on his face and glaring at the man. "Are you satisfied?" Zuko asked with the most obvious sarcasm on the face of this planet.

"This ship is in a state of disrepair," the officer said. "Were you in Fire Nation waters, we'd sink this thing before it became a navigation hazard."

"Then I guess it's lucky we're not in Fire Nation waters," Zuko said dryly. "Get off my ship."

The man stared at Zuko for a long moment. "I don't know how you're hiding her, but you can't hide her forever."

"Why, who ever could you be talking about?" Zuko asked, a cruel smirk sliding onto his face. The man scowled for all he was worth, but after it was obvious that a grown man's displeasure was the last thing in this universe which would put Zuko back on his heels, he quickly turned on his and departed down the gangplank with just as much ceremony as he'd entered, and just as much welcome. Zuko glared at the man as he left, and then turned toward the cabins. "I'm going to my room. No disturbances!" he shouted as he threw open the door and ducked inside.

In those confined, dark spaces, though, he didn't turn right but rather left and straight down the ladders which descended into the guts of the ship. At the back would sit the engines, but up here? The rooms for the marines – of which Zuko had few – and the berths for the rest of the crew. Because of the discrepancy in manpower, the marine's bunks were used by the crew, mostly, while the 'crews' hammocks were more or less abandoned. But still, Zuko got no few approving or acknowledging nods as he moved to one of the lower portions, just above the ballasts, and shifted aside a chunk of bulkhead. Inside, Azula blinked at him, with an impatient expression on her face.

"They're..."

"Of course they're gone, or you wouldn't have opened the hole," Azula cut him off. Her accent was almost unintelligibly thick today. "Help me out. It's cramped and it stinks in here."

"I see you got some reading done," Zuko noted.

"Not reading," Azula said, with a brisk shake of her head. "Are we at port?"

"Azula, you've been on this boat as long as I have. Haven't you figured out the difference between sea and port yet?"

"Please, as though I'd bother," she said dismissively. "One day, I'm going back to dry land and leaving all of this misery behind me forever."

It took a strong head of effort not to sigh at that.

"Come on. They won't have the guts to try anything daring for a while. And this pier doesn't look kindly to their kind, so they'll probably be shipping out before the hour's up," Zuko said, guiding her out of the lowest of holds. He leaned over to her book. "What have you been writing?"

"It's... hard to explain," she said, almost like she was ashamed.

"Try me."

"Do you know anything about a man named Jeong Jeong?" Azula asked.

"He's a traitor to the Fire Nation," Zuko said plainly, perhaps forgetting to invest it with scorn. "He's the first man who ever went AWOL from the Navy and survived."

"The Avatar is going to seek him out," Azula said with absolute certainty.

"Are you sure about this? Are you Kyoshi Island sure?" Zuko asked, bringing her to a stop.

"Absolutely," Azula said, pushing him aside and heading up the ladders and then up the stairs which they led to. "Of course, if we were in the right place, we'd have plenty of time to get to him before he arrived, but," she shrugged, and then looked out the door to the town. "Since we aren't, we're just going to have to reach Bomei before... before..."

"What is it?"

Azula backpedaled and leaned wholly out of the ajar door this time, taking in the port town they had lodged at. She muttered something in that foreign tongue which Zuko only had a partial knowledge in. But by the inflection alone, even had he'd known none of it, he would have been able to figure out she'd just said 'You have GOT to be kidding me'.

"Azula, wh..."

"He's here," Azula said, grabbing his arm and dragging him through that port.

"Azula! Stop, somebody will see you!" She halted, three steps onto the hull, before grumbling and releasing him, and stalking back into the entry of the cabins. "He's here? The Avatar, now?"

"Yes," Azula said. "I didn't think we'd be here in time, but we are. The Avatar is here, and he is making fresh enemies for us to exploit."

"That's... good news," Zuko said. Terrible news, more like. If she tried to bring the Avatar back to Father, Zuko didn't have the first clue what the man would do, but he could guarantee it wouldn't be good. "We should tell Uncle."

"Why would we want that doddering old tea-bag?" Azula demanded.

"Because he's got a way with seedy places like this," Zuko said. Azula looked like she wanted to press a point, but she let out a sigh and waved at him.

"Whatever. We have to move decisively, though. If we reach him now, he'll be cut off and alone. We're so close, Zuzu. I can almost smell the shores of home," she was so wistful in that. Zuko turned away, only because he couldn't hide the despair on his face anymore, and he couldn't bear to have her see it.

Chapter 13

Chiyo

Iroh wished he could have said he hurried through the halls of the Fire Palace. The truth was, he simply didn't have the will to. It was lose-lose. Once she'd taken the field against him, he knew that there was no real victory he could attain. And now Lu Ten was dead. It pulled at his feet like lead weights, and he moved listlessly through his life. His son, the only child he would ever have, the only child Qiao could bear, was gone. He might not have been perfect... in fact, he definitely wasn't, but he was Iroh's son.

Was being the important word.

"Iroh, please," Qiao said, an insistent tug on his hand and his mind. She was dressed in whites just as he was. "They need us. Now more than ever."

"I just don't care," Iroh said quietly.

"Iroh!" she chastised, coming to a halt. He didn't want to say he slumped in on himself, because he was already short enough without slouching. "I know how hard this is. The g... Agni only knows how much it hurts that my beloved child is dead. But you didn't die with him. We have a duty to those that still live."

"I'm just tired," Iroh complained lightly, listlessly.

"I know, my dragon," she said, and she began to pull him again. He didn't resist her. She was as her people were; rock stubborn and tougher than anybody would have believed possible. A part of him, the part which wasn't hurting so distinctly from the loss of Lu Ten, recognized much of the same resilience she displayed in how they'd managed to get beaten back. Killing Earth Kingdom soldiers was a simple task, but they had numbers. Destroying the Earth Kingdom's morale proved a challenge Iroh simply couldn't surmount. And Qiao was much the same way. She was hurting, yes, but broken? Never. "Well, what about Zuzu?"

"What about him?" Iroh asked. She turned to him, favoring him with those dark brown eyes in a disapproving look.

"How much do you think he's hurting, now that his mother has disappeared?" she asked. "You know how much it pains me that my father vanished into the night, and I was almost a woman when it happened. Zuko is still a child; imagine how hurt he must be."

Iroh nodded. The truth was, he should have paid much better attention to his niece and nephew long ago, but he was Prince then. Now... now what was he? Iroh had always known that Ozai wanted power, but never that he would actually seize it. "You're right," Iroh said quietly. "You're right. We should make sure he and Azula are alright."

"It's Azula that I'm worried about. Why wouldn't anybody tell us what sickness has taken her?" Qiao asked. Whatever other questions she was going to inquire to fell silent as they came to a halt. She seemed to set her jaw, but she bowed deep, prostrating herself as red robes approached. The Fire Lord, Iroh's younger brother, flanked by a wave of Fire Sages. Iroh didn't bow, though. Today, he simply felt too old, too creaky, and honestly, too angry to.

"Welcome home, brother," Ozai said, a small smirk on his face, his strong hands clasped before him. "It's such a shame that you were unsuccessful at the walls of Ba Sing Se. Perhaps if you had another six hundred days, you might have borne more bearable fruit."

"Ozai," Iroh said. "I don't know what you said to Father, but you and I both know what truth it contained."

"Oh, you wound me with your slander," Ozai said, feigning hurt. "I come to offer my... sincere condolences on the loss of your son, and you lash out at me. Obviously your time in the East has done little for your tact."

"My time in the East has done more for me than you'd like to know," Iroh said, taking a step toward his younger brother. The vast difference in height between the two was the clearest symbol of how Azulon had kept two wives. In that way, Zuko wasn't the only one who knew what it was like to lose a mother at a young age. Ozai's smile took on an edge of cruelty.

"Then perhaps you would like to expend your grief against them? Or perhaps take part in our new military campaign?"

"New campaign?" Iroh asked, confusion clear in his voice, breaking through his usual safeguards against such things.

"Yes. The North Water Tribe has been getting insufferably smug, and they lack the reserves and infrastructure. A symbolic victory will quickly wash the fetid taste of defeat from the people's mouths."

Iroh stared at his liege, and his sibling. "If you think any war against the North will finish quickly, then you drastically underestimate the Tribesmen."

"And perhaps your youthful sentimentality has caused you to overestimate them," Ozai countered. "But it doesn't matter. As soon as the troops are rotated, we strike north for Henhiavut and victory."

"You will not find victory on this path, younger brother," Iroh said. Ozai laughed at that.

"Is this another of your visions, brother? Like the one where you said you would preside over the collapse of a tyrant? As I understand, the Earth King still sits comfortably on his throne."

Iroh didn't say a word.

"Oh, but I've forgotten my manners. Shou, please rise. I have no desire to see my esteemed if defeated brother's wife on her knees all day in my presence."

"That's not what..." Qiao began, but Iroh cut her off with a touch on the arm. That was one of her failings. She hated being denigrated. And she could be quite vocal about her opinions. Iroh once considered the delightful irony it would have been for her to become Fire Lady. Now that it was clear that wouldn't happen, the irony fell slightly flat. "Excuse me, your Eminence."

"By all means," Ozai said. "But do make yourself comfortable in my home. I'm sure a place can be found for you."

"I'll find a place for..."

"Shou," Iroh said snappishly. She turned and huffed away. Ozai tracked her exit with his eyes, but nothing else. "Please forgive my wife. She grieves hard for our son."

"The nation grieves," Ozai agreed. "For the eighty thousand who will never return home. Rest well, older brother. The Nation is finally in good hands."

"You may yet find your hands aren't as capable as you assume," Iroh said, turning away and marching off before Ozai could get the last word in. Even with Iroh's mind as clouded by mourning as it was, he couldn't help but try to think back, to when Ozai was just a little child, a decade and a half Iroh's junior. Where had that little boy become this... cruel man? Iroh couldn't say. He caught up to his wife, traveling on the heat of his own outrage. "You shouldn't antagonize him," Iroh said.

"I'm aware," Qiao said. "But that doesn't mean I won't."

He took her hand. It was a comfort. "She's just down here," she reported. Iroh raised a brow at where they'd put her. It was her own bedroom. They only put people of undefined sickness in their own bedrooms when it became obvious that they weren't going to live long, and should be comfortable while they lasted. Thus, it was with a sense of quiet dread that both bereaved parents pushed open the door to Azula's room, expecting a death rattle, leprosy, or worse.

They came upon the girl peaceful and still. Tears welled in Qiao's eyes. Iroh, though, noticed that Zuko was nearby, sitting in a darkened corner and keeping watch in the room. He looked exhausted, far too tired for any child of his age. He bolted to his feet. "Uncle Iroh!" he whispered.

"Zuko... Prince Zuko, what are...?" Iroh asked, but was cut off when Zuko hushed him loudly. Iroh continued in a lowered tone. "What is going on? We were told Azula is ill."

"She's sleeping," Zuko said quietly. Qiao let out a breath with relief. Zuko came closer, glancing between Azula and the door. He looked like he was in desperate straits, and strangled by a dilemma besides. Iroh moved back and shut the door for the boy.

"What's wrong, Zuko?" Qiao asked, in that warm, kind way she always did with Zuko.

"I... I don't know," Zuko said, his eyes starting to well. "I don't know if I can do this."

Qiao beckoned him over, and he ran into her arms, hugging tightly around her as he tried very hard not to cry, and didn't quite succeed. She just hugged the boy back, though, and didn't say a word. Iroh, though, took a moment to observe Azula more closely. She looked oddly disheveled, which wasn't like his niece at all. She was breathing easily, and didn't even seem to be feverish, but there was a bandage around her neck, and her nose was bruised, if not broken.

"What happened to her?" Iroh asked quietly. Zuko finally collected himself. Iroh didn't begrudge him. Zuko was still a child. He couldn't be expected to withstand this sort of stress. Not yet. This sort of stress, too early, had a way of breaking people.

"I don't know," Zuko answered back, softly. "Nobody does. She just had a massive seizure and now... I have to keep her safe."

"There are enough guards to keep her safe," Iroh said.

"Iroh!" Qiao said sharply. Azula shifted in her sleep, and he counted himself rebuked. "Why is that, sweetheart?"

"I made a promise. But how can I protect her? She's already better than me at... well, practically everything!"

"It doesn't matter that she is, or even if she is. What matters is that you do your best, even when it's hard, and never give up," Qiao said, squatting down slightly so she could look him in the eye. "Do you want to keep her safe?"

"I... I don't know," Zuko said with a degree of shame. "I mean... she's... Azula!"

Iroh moved to the boy's side, and Qiao took that as her cue to check on the girl in the bed. "You made a promise, you said?" Iroh asked. Zuko nodded. "To who?"

"Mom," Zuko said quietly. "And then she was... gone."

Iroh frowned at that, but took a moment to think before answering. Ursa was a cunning woman, and the fights she'd had with Ozai, particularly in the past few years, had been nothing short of legendary. Why she would leave now, for anything short of death, baffled Iroh. "Sometimes, we have to do things we don't enjoy, Prince Zuko," it was going to take Iroh a while to get used to calling the boy that, "but that doesn't mean that they will always remain onerous tasks. A duty can become a joy, a responsibility a pleasure. It's just a matter of finding what you can in it and moving forward even through where it hurts."

"I guess so," Zuko said quietly. "I don't really understand, but I guess so."

Iroh nodded. He'd made most of that up as he was going along, but people just sort of assumed Iroh knew what he was talking about when he spoke. It was one of the few perks of aging as prematurely as he had. "Does she wake?"

"Yes, but..." Zuko began, but Qiao had already taken a seat beside Azula, and was lightly stroking back her hair. "Auntie, are you sure you should be doing that?"

"Azula always liked me. You both did," Qiao said simply. Azula let out a mumble, and then her eyes slowly slid open. But in a flash, they opened very, very wide, and she let out a shocked scream. She quickly grabbed at the side opposite Qiao and took up a water basin, smashing it against Qiao's shoulder in a move so fast that Iroh didn't even have the first impulse to move until the ceramic was shattered on the ground and Qiao was falling to the stone floor, clutching a bruised and slightly lacerated arm, a cry of pain and confusion in her throat.

Iroh raced to his wife, and cradled her as Azula bolted out of the bed and flattened herself against the wall, clutching a shard of that ceramic in her hand like a knife, toward Iroh. No... not toward him, toward Qiao.

"Azula, what are you doing?" Zuko shouted in absolute confusion. Azula looked between him and the others, and let out a mumble, a mush of nonsense syllables, as though she'd completely forgotten how to talk.

"That hurt! What... Why did you...?" Qiao said, the surprise starting to leave her.

"What is wrong with her?" Iroh demanded.

"She can't talk," Zuko said, slowly walking toward her, his hands toward her. "Azula, put the shard down, alright?" She shouted at them, but it might as well have been lemur chatterings for all Iroh could have discerned them. But that shard still stayed pointed at Qiao. Iroh watched as Zuko slowly took that shard, and tossed it behind him. "It's alright, Azula. You're safe, alright?"

She shivered, her golden eyes flicking to her brother, but then back to her. And Iroh could feel in his soul that when Azula looked at Qiao, the woman who had been for all intents and purposes a second mother, that there wasn't the slightest hint of recognition at all. Qiao, Azula's Auntie Shou, might as well be a complete stranger. That was the first time that Iroh thought something was seriously off about his niece.

Iroh opened his eyes, and put down the sleeve of Qiao's dress. Although her scent had long slipped out of it, just the feel of it could call up the most vivid of memories, and he had many of them. He turned to the two youths who stood, expectant, in the chamber he used to share with his wife. When that voyage began, she was the last family he considered his own. Now, there were at least two more. "And what do you mean, 'he is here'?" Iroh asked.

"The Avatar."

"...is in a dingy, run down docks?" Iroh asked. "Now why would he come to a place like this?"

"What does it matter?" Azula asked.

"He's probably low on supplies," Zuko cut in. "He did just fly to the Fire Nation and back. I can attest to how much that uses up, even if you are on the back of a bison."

"There are many places he could have stopped which would be better than this," Iroh pointed out.

"Like Makapu?" Zuko asked. A wrathful grumble from Azula's throat made her opinion of that town quite clear. "I don't know about the Avatar, but a town like that would have driven the Tribesman insane."

"Really? I found the whole place peaceful and charming," Iroh said, but shrugged. They were gathering around someone who, while not a shaman herself, had an undefinable but undeniable connection to the spirit world. It hadn't taken the World Eyes to see that she was at the heart of a vortex of spirits of mysteries.

"Of course, you were in that den of foolishness the whole time we were searching," Azula said.

"The whole time I was searching," Zuko corrected mildly. "You spent half that trip lost in a Shig farm."

Azula glared at him for that, but didn't respond. Iroh often marveled at their relationship. It took a real family to put up with the casual abuse they slung at each other. But in their own, strange way, it was their way of showing that they cared. Iroh was of the opinion that abuse was abuse, no matter its source, but between Zuko and Azula, it was probably the only way either of them knew how to show love. And that made Iroh deeply, deeply sad. "She was an interesting woman and Shou enjoyed her company greatly."

Zuko flinched at that. That visit was the last time Iroh's wife stood on dry land. "Nevertheless," Azula powered on. "We have an opportunity to capture the Avatar. Here and now, while he's distracted and surrounded. We may not have a chance like this again for months!"

Iroh sighed, then turned to glance out of his viewing port. The great mass of the frigate which the Fire Nation attempted to extend its reach on slowly scudded out of the shallows and into friendlier waters. It was a partial lie which saw Iroh's vessel safe to dock here. In this port, Fire Nation traders were more than welcome, but Fire Nation navy were anything but. "If we do this, we will have to do it subtly. We cannot bring the marines."

"What, all six of them?" Azula asked sarcastically.

"Azula, just because they're few doesn't mean they should get insulted," Iroh began.

"Yes, they should! Where were they when we took Kyoshi?" Azula asked. Iroh frowned at that. It was a worrying trend with her that she was, more and more, starting to trust in those daft and flighty ideas which infected her. At first, before she was put out of the palace, she had fought against them, eventually confiding in Qiao that they troubled her greatly, those whispers from beyond some veil in her mind. That was a trust which had to be rebuilt from the ground, though; to Azula, Qiao might as well have been a total stranger.

"Nevertheless, we are traders here, not soldiers," Iroh said. "No armor, no weapons, and no troops. We might have to limp back to this port some day, and I'd prefer to be welcome when we do."

"We limp a lot of places," Zuko said.

"And we can get more shopping done!" Iroh ended with a flourish.

Zuko stared at him. "And where would we get the money for... you know what? Never mind," he shook his head. "Are you going to help us with this, or are we on our own?"

"Prince Zuko, Azula, you are family. You can always depend on me," Iroh said tenderly, patting each on the shoulder as he moved past. Zuko seemed to take comfort at it. Azula's eyes flicked an instant of glare at him. A glare which he seemed to take as 'how dare you touch me?' mixed in with 'I really need a hug', although the mixture far favored the former to the latter. Yet another thing which Iroh slotted into the back of his mind to consider later.

The three of them all disembarked the ship, and vanished into the crowds on the wharf. Zuko seemed to have his gaze linger on a shop with a door which was obviously hastily-tacked on. A commissary. Zuko was probably wondering how much supply the ship still had. "You know, you should try looking other places, Nephew," Iroh said easily as they strolled along. "If you turned away from warehouses and armories and naval yards, you might actually find a little lady. Who knows, it might be just what you need in your life."

"Are we really talking about this now?" Zuko asked.

"I can just imagine it," Azula said. "Zuzu here being all awkward and stupid, her being all cold and distant, until you burn a house down to prove that you like her, and the entire town comes after you demanding your head on a stick. It would be the best first date ever."

Iroh couldn't help but laugh at that, even though it was both oddly specific and not very kind. "Perhaps you should find a more open, outspoken type," Iroh said. "If only to avoid the pitchfork-wielding mob."

"You know, there was that girl up in the north who had her eye on him," Azula said, a smirk on her face. "That one working at that healer's shack. What was her name?"

"Was it Song? Or Jin?" Iroh asked, thoughtfully tugging on his beard. "Or were you talking about that runaway Tribesman's daughter?"

"Oh, that would be hilarious," Azula said with a chuckle. "Fire and ice makes steam. I cringe to think what your children would have been like."

"Can we not talk about girls for one goddamned hour!" Zuko shouted. That caused Azula to break into peals of laughter. That brought its own smile to Iroh's face. She was very doom-and-gloom much of the time. Seeing her laugh, even at his nephew's discomfort, eased an aching and weary heart. But it was Zuko's... tension... which leadened it again. "Azula, you said he's here, but this place isn't exactly small. How are we supposed to find him?"

"He's making enemies of a group of pirates even as we speak," Azula said.

"That's... awfully specific information," Iroh noted.

"And that's why it is of such use to us," she pointed out. "Unlike that crazy witch in Makapu."

Zuko leaned down to Iroh slightly. "She's just mad because she's supposed to fall for somebody that she hates."

"That would be a stressful thing to live through," Iroh admitted. And he had lived it. He was supposed to hate Qiao, her family, and her nation. In a way, watching Gaoling burn was a last affront to her. But love, as it often did, found a way through even the most strict of social edicts. It was lucky her eyes weren't green, as so many's were on this continent. He turned to Azula. "Now which boat is the home to these pirates you speak of?"

"The one which looks like a pirate ship," she said, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. Over the years, Iroh had been beset by enough pirates to throw out the term 'pirate ship' as a useful classification. But when she impatiently pointed to a red sail which flapped lazily as men worked to reaffix it to the rigging, Iroh couldn't deny that it had to have been just about the most stereotypical pirate vessel that had ever sailed the seas, down to the blackened hull and tattered standard, proclaiming itself a ship of an Eastern country which was both landlocked and thus had no navy, and also erased by the Fire Nation ninety years ago. What sort of fool of a pirate ran a ship like that?

"I see," Zuko said. "That does look like a pirate ship."

"So what is your plan?" Iroh asked.

"We wait," Azula said. "They will come running off of that ship, with a horde of pirates at their heels, and we will get them first."

"And then what do we do about the pirates?" Iroh asked. Azula was about to speak, but Zuko cut her off.

"Offer them the Tribesmen," he said lethargically, even for his quickness.

"And if they don't accept that barter?"

"Then we will improvise," Azula cut in on her brother, this time. "Wasn't that one of your lessons that you kept trying to pound into our heads, the importance of proper improvisation?"

"No, the lesson was that improvisation will always be inferior to a well thought-out plan," Iroh said peevishly. "I thought you of all people would grasp that."

"I... There will be time enough for that when we have the Avatar. He will run this way; it's the only clear path away from the ship," Azula said, nodding toward a street. "We just need to get ready, and be ready to strike when I signal."

Azula slipped away from the trio and into a small crowd around a fishmonger. Iroh gave a glance to his nephew. "I hope you know what she's doing."

"I trust my sister," Zuko said.

"But do you think she is thinking this through?" Iroh stressed. Zuko just let out a very, very weary sigh.

"I trust my sister," he repeated, and walked away. Whatever was on Prince Zuko's mind was anything but good. And now, Iroh had even more to ponder, while they awaited Azula's signal to strike.

"Well, that's the last of King Bumi's money," Sokka said, looking over the meager provisions that he could afford with the dregs of gold and silver from the frankly enormous largess which the crazy king had gave them as a parting gift. "Now we're bankrupt."

"We're not bankrupt," Katara pointed out, shouldering a share of the load. "We've still got... three bits left."

"Yeah," Aang said nervously. "Make that two bits."

"What did you buy?" Sokka asked with a humorless tone.

"When I saw this Bison Whistle, I just couldn't help myself," Aang said, producing the small, bison-shaped instrument. He gave it a hearty blow, which Sokka prepared for a shriek from. Instead, there was the thinnest whine of moving air, which had Sokka shaking his head in amusement.

"Well, it looks like you've been had," Sokka pointed out. Momo made a point of jumping over to Aang's shoulder and chattering at him, like he was thoroughly annoyed at the airbender for wasting money better spent on lemur-related treats and miscellany.

"I'll take the money from now on," Katara said kindly, and the Avatar handed over the two bits that remained to them. Sokka was pleasantly surprised that the money lasted even as long as it did; between Katara's picky eating habits and clothes-horse tendencies, and Aang's complete inability to understand that money does not grow in a field, it seemed he was the only responsible person with cash left to the family, especially since Dad left two years ago.

"Well, it doesn't really matter. We've got enough to reach the north pole, even after that side trip to Bomei," Aang said.

"Bomei?" Sokka asked. "This is the first I'm hearing about Bomei. What's Bomei?"

"It's a city a couple of days up the river." Aang said.

"And why are we going to Bomei?" Katara asked.

"I kinda got a message that I should go there," Aang said skittishly. Sokka shrugged at that, though.

"Well, it's just a couple of days off course, it shouldn't really impact the schedule," Sokka said. Katara laughed at that.

"You have a schedule?" she asked.

"Yup. If we don't take any unnecessary detours, and keep heading continuously north, we'll be in Henhiavut by the middle of next week," Sokka said. He rubbed his chin for a moment though, as a thought occurred to him. "There is the issue of how we work out the bathroom breaks, though; they could slow us down."

"You're not serious, are you?" Katara asked, a baffled but amused expression on her face.

"Water Tribe, Earth Kingdom, Fire Nation!" a barker called as they walked. "As long as rarities are your inclination, then you've found your destination!"

"What's he saying?" Katara asked. Sokka rolled his eyes. Sooner or later she was really going to have to put an effort into learning Huojian.

"Keep walking, he's just another desperate salesman," Sokka said. But Aang had to go and shoot a glance over at the big, intimidating specimen of a boat that the lanky, long haired barker was proclaiming in front of, and the barker took that as a cue to immediately latch on like an elbow leech and not let go. He rushed over and looped an arm over the Avatar's shoulders.

"You there!" he said in smoky Tianxia. There were a lot of womanish things about him, on closer inspection. His eyes and mouth were just two of them. "You look like you're in the market for some interesting curios!"

"Of course I am!" Aang said brightly. "...What's a curio?"

"I...Don't...know," the man admitted. "But whatever they are, we got 'em! Come on in. We're offering good prices on some very rare and valuable goods."

"Aang, I don't think..."

"What's the worst that could happen?" the Avatar asked pleasantly. Sokka palmed his face loudly at that utterance. Sooner or later, Aang was going to have to learn to NOT SAY THAT! The barker lead the boy into the black-hulled ship, with its scarlet sails, and both of the Tribal siblings had no real choice but to follow him. After all, Aang did have an unfortunate proclivity towards entering shenanigans the moment cooler heads turned the other way for a fraction of a second. A few minutes alone in this place might summon, ex nihilo, the Fire Lord and all of his armies to make their lives miserable.

Alright, that might have been an exaggeration, but the worried glance Sokka shared with his sister showed that she and he were on the same page about leaving Aang alone with well armed strangers.

The store was less a store and more a remodeled cargo hold. Sokka ran fingers along the walls as he came in, and noted the odd feeling of them. These were put here very recently, because they were naked of creosote and yet neither split nor rotten. In fact, the whole of this gallery seemed to be very ad hoc, very new, but even despite that, quite a proper showcase. Aang spent a few long moments transfixed by a statue of a monkey wearing a ruby necklace, glaring with large, ruby eyes.

"Sokka?"

"Yeah Aang?"

"I think I've figured out what a curio is," he said. Sokka chuckled at that, and turned his attention down the wall. There were weapons lined up there, and none of them inexpensive looking. They were all ornamental pieces, not a single worthwhile edge amongst them, but they represented immense wealth. That they were for sale, or even in the possession of a ship like this started raising red flags in Sokka's mind. But then, he found something that was very distinct, and a little bit shocking.

A pale blue parka, peeking out from the bottom of a bin of foreign clothing.

"Sokka, check this out," Katara said, dragging Sokka away from the clothing that he'd half unburied and bringing him to a rack which held a number of objects. The one in particular that she was indicating was a squat box, written over with names and locations. "Qujeck, student of Pakku, son of Lana and Shakt. Service to Allavut."

"Wait, I know those things," Sokka said. "Dad made one of them for me."

"This is a passage box," Katara said. "And it's from the North!"

Katara started to slide it open, but before Sokka could get more than the barest of glimpses inside, a great hand came down on it, and wrested it from her grasp. "You know, you shouldn't play with merchandise, children," the stocky man said. Sokka had to take a step back simply to be out from under the brim of the man's hat, and his one green eye glared down. The other was under a patch, and the cheek near it held a roughened, bubbled texture. A green parrot lizard let out a hostile squaw, and swiped a claw at him as he backed away. "That's a good way to get the wrong kind of attention."

"It's just, I've seen that box before."

"Unlikely," the man said, placing it firmly back into its place. "It's a recent acquisition. I picked it up from up north a few months ago at a very reasonable price."

"Well, can we offer something for it?" Katara asked. Sokka shot her a look, and turned her away from the one-eyed salesman.

"What are you doing?" Sokka asked.

"This stuff belongs to the Water Tribe," she said. "They don't let these leave the home unless something important is in them. Maybe it's something we should bring back with us."

"You know, ever since Crescent Island, it's like you've been going out of your way to be 'nice'."

"What's wrong with nice?" Katara demanded, fists on hips. Sokka rolled his eyes.

"No matter where I go in the room, its eyes keep following me," Aang noted, bending and weaving his gaze fixated on the monkey on the shelf.

"If you're looking to barter, then that lemur might catch a fine price in trade," the salesman said. "I've never seen one so tame before. A collector would pay a handsome fee."

"Momo's not for sale," Aang said, shielding the lemur. "But is there something else we might be able to offer?"

"What's in the box, anyway?" Sokka asked.

"It's untampered and will be bought sight unseen," he said. A scowl pulled at the man's face. "Until you showed up, I didn't even think it could open."

Passage boxes could be a bit tricky to somebody who didn't know their workings. Sokka shook his head and turned back to the clothes bin, and pulled up that tunic. It was for somebody a bit bigger than him, but just the feel of familiar fabric after so long in East Continent cloths brought a smile to his face. A smile which curdled when he considered the likelihood of actually getting that 'exile' lifted. In the end, it would remain the case that no matter what they did out here, they still couldn't go home. Sokka really hoped Gran Gran was working on that. As he rubbed the fabric, though his fingers found a hole. And when they found it, Sokka could see little else. It was in the tunic's back, and was far from any seam. It's edges were smooth. He sniffed at it, and smelled harsh cleaning solvents. This wasn't just a hole. This was a stab wound.

"Wait a minute," Sokka said, the situation finally, after far too long in his opinion, coming together in his head. "Maritime traders, with eyepatches and numerous weapons, questionably procured merchandise, with pet reptile birds? You guys are pirates aren't you!"

The man, a captain if the size of the hat was any indication, smirked at that proclamation. "We prefer high-risk traders," he countered. Aang swallowed hard and raised a hand to catch his attention. "What is it, monk?"

"Um... how much for the passage box?" Aang asked.

"I've got a buyer in the Eastern Earth Kingdoms who has already payed for that. Unless you can better his offer, of course," the man ran a fingernail over the pommel of a sword. "Two hundred Weight in gold, and it's yours."

"Two hundred Weight? That's extortion," Sokka said.

"It may be, but it's the price as offered," he said. "Unless you have something else to offer?"

Aang's eyes were locked on the pirate captain, so he didn't notice that both siblings shared a mischievous, slightly larcenous glance behind his back. Better that he didn't.

Azula was patient. She had to be. That the three enemies of the Fire Nation so simply and obviously blundered into her trap just cranked that smirk even higher onto her face. It was practically a grin by the time they were taken below decks. It was just a matter of time, now. She just had to keep calm, keep steady, until the time was right. It was always about time.

"Are you my Mama?" a little girl's voice came from Azula's side.

"No. Go away," Azula snapped, staring at the monk as he talked to the effeminate barker. She had to stay focused. Getting involved with other people was the easiest way for her to become distracted, to miss something. She hated that about herself. She knew, in her soul, that she had to be better than this. That she was supposed to be better than this. That she wasn't supposed to be this scatterbrained or inconsistent. But all the knowing in the world didn't change the facts as they were. So she had to stay diligent.

"Come on, just a little bit longer," she muttered to herself. "You'd better be ready, Zuzu."

"I don't know where ma' Mama is, and I'm scared," that child said again, tugging now on Azula's hand.

"Go away!"

The girl began to sniffle, and Azula knew that this wasn't going to solve itself unless she took more direct action. She turned to face the girl, and found herself having to look well down to do so. She was very young, maybe three years old or four. Her eyes were golden, and almost too big. She was tugging at a long strand of lustrous black hair. "Go bother somebody else," Azula said sternly. The girl's lip began to tremble, and her eyes welled up. "Crying isn't going to sway me."

"B-b-but I can't find my Mama. Are you my Mama?"

The tears that started to fall had an odd effect. Most people would be moved to protect a crying child, but Azula felt something else. Terror. Not at the child of course, she was no threat, but a terror at herself, because her hands and feet were going cold, and she could feel the veil moving, pressing forward even harder. "Go. Aw... awa..." Azula tried to say. "You aren't... I am not..."

The words refused to come out. Like there was something standing in their way. That fear grew stronger. She was losing herself, and something else was taking her place. She didn't want to lose control. Not now. Please, Agni above, not now! She clenched her fists until her fingernails began to cut into her hands, and azure flame began to flare down from them which she barely noticed.

"Are... are you my Mama?" the girl asked again, this time around sobs.

And Azula felt the veil move forward, and the truth became clear to her.

Zuko stifled a smile when the barker called attention to the bald monk and the Tribesmen. Azula was right again. But just when he thought she was going to spring the trap, the man brought them all into the ship, and a long silence followed. She must have a plan of some sort. Azula wasn't an idiot after all. Sokka glanced to where Iroh was hiding, and found that he'd gone from hiding to eating noodles. Zuko grumbled to himself and edged through the crowds until he could take a seat next to his uncle at the minimalistic shop.

"What are you doing?" Zuko asked at a hiss.

"I felt a bit peckish, and felt that noodles might hit the spot," Iroh said in a very happy tone. Zuko sighed in annoyance. Seeing Uncle happy was good and all, but sometimes Happy Iroh definitely got in the way of Useful Iroh.

"Yeah, the old guy's got the right idea," somebody said from Iroh's other side. Zuko leaned past Iroh to behold a girl, maybe two years younger than Zuko, slurping noodles with the best of them. "I gotta say, I've had noodles, and these beat the hell out of what you'll get where I'm from."

"I've also had a wonderfully interesting conversation with Miss Beifong here," Iroh said.

"That's great," Zuko said, giving a leery look at the girl with the oddly pale eyes, who finished her bowl and cracked her knuckles at the bench. "And who are you supposed to be?"

"The greatest earthbender in the world," she said without the slightest hint of shame. "Now I've gotta get moving. The road's long and y'all are kinda in my way."

"Good luck with your journey," Iroh said pleasantly.

"I'm gonna have to have some of that tea some time," the girl said, giving Iroh a prod in the belly before wandering down an alley. Zuko turned back to his uncle.

"What an interesting young woman," Iroh said. He gave a glance to Zuko. "You know, I think you and she might..."

"Tell me you didn't try to set me up with a random Earth Kingdom peasant."

"Well, not very hard, anyway," Iroh admitted.

Zuko wanted to be surprised, but when Iroh fixed his mind on something, it was very hard to get him to shake it. And he could think of few things more terrifying or awkward than having his uncle play matchmaker. Well, there was one, and that was his father doing the same. But since that had a likelihood equivalent to the Avatar spontaneously declaring undying devotion to the Fire Lord, that was not something he had to concern himself with.

"And this is what you've been occupying your time with, instead of watching for Azula's signal?" Zuko asked.

"Hey, buddy, either buy something or give up your seat!" the vendor next to the grill shouted with annoyance.

"Mind your tongue, peas... You know what, you're right. I'll just take my uncle and go," Zuko said.

"But I'm not finished."

"You've had enough," Zuko said. Iroh looked comically sad when he was parted from his noodles and pulled toward the gap between two stalls where Zuko had first ensconced himself. "Uncle, I'm glad you're finally getting over Auntie's passing, but..."

"Not over," Iroh said. "Just accepting that it is."

"Whatever. The point is, the Avatar's going to come out of there soon, and I need all hands on deck. You're the one who keeps telling me to make plans instead of improvising. There's no point to making plans if the actors don't play their parts!"

Iroh sighed. "I see your point, Nephew. Sometimes, I forget that I'm supposed to be the mentor in this relationship."

"You're family," Zuko said simply.

"Hey you!" that pirate barker screamed from the deck. "Come back here you little bastards!"

"This would probably be it," Iroh said. "Listen for Azula's signal."

Springing off of the boat came the two tribesmen, the Avatar, and that little lemur which went with them. The Avatar looked between his companions. "What's going on? Why are they trying to kill us?"

"This didn't belong to them," Katara said, indicating something out of eyeshot. The Avatar had a shocked expression on his face. He turned to the pirates.

"Look, we'll just give it back, and everything's going to be alright," he said, a placating gesture waved toward the horde of approaching ne'er-do-wells.

"Yeah, that might be a bit of a problem," Sokka muttered, showing the Avatar something else. The boy sputtered at that.

"Wh...What?" He asked, as the lemur landed on his shoulder. "Am I the only person here who hasn't stolen from the pirates?"

The lemur opened its mouth to show that it was cheeking a ruby the size of Zuko's thumb. The Avatar slapped his arrow at the ridiculousness of the situation, and his exasperation quickly turned into action as the pirates began to run forward. Zuko knew Azula was waiting for the right moment. He trusted her instincts on this. They'd gotten them out of trouble before, appropriately enough. So they waited.

"Prince Zuko, shouldn't we...?"

"We wait for Azula."

The pirates ran forward, and the Avatar's cadre broke into flight, opting for a alleyway one away from where Zuko and Iroh were waiting. Very likely, it was the one that Azula was rigging with traps, for it was that one which she vanished down earlier. They ran, and Zuko waited.

And waited.

There came a great crash, of a wagon being smashed to splinters, and an anguished cry came down that path. "My Cabbages! This place is worse than Omashu!"

"Where is Azula?" Zuko asked, and broke away from his uncle to head down that path. She should have signaled by now. Unless she wanted to claim the glory all for herself. He wouldn't put it past her. She used to be quite the brat. The years hadn't done very much to temper that. So he went back there with a lecture on his tongue. A lecture which curdled and died when there was nobody to deliver it to.

"Where is Azula?" Zuko asked as he heard Uncle approach him.

"I saw her come down here," Iroh pointed out somewhat needlessly.

"Why isn't she here?" Zuko asked, also pointlessly.

"I do not know, Nephew. Maybe she got distracted."

"She wouldn't get distracted. The Avatar is pretty much the most important thing in her life. Nothing else would come between her and him," Zuko said, trying to keep the hollowness out of his voice. It just wasn't fair that even if she did catch him, she was still doomed. If there was a way out of this purgatory, Zuko just couldn't find it.

"Something must have," Iroh said.

"How could we even find her in a warren like this? We'd need somebody who can see through walls," Zuko complained.

"What the hell just happened here?" that girl's voice returned. Zuko turned, and saw that the pale, milky-eyed Easterner from before had returned, looking somewhat impatient and somewhat baffled. "I turn my back for five seconds and I miss a donnybrook. What kind of universe do I live in where all the best scraps happen as soon as I look the other way?"

"Ah, miss Beifong. I thought you'd already moved on."

"Yeah, well, I kinda realized something important," she admitted, as though as pleasant as pulling teeth. "I don't really know where Bomei is."

"It's on the river," Zuko said. "You can't miss it."

"Call me spoiled, but I don't feel like walking through a swamp. Too hard to 'see' in. You wouldn't happen to have a wagon, or a boat, would ya?"

"Not now," Zuko snapped. "My sister's missing, and we have to find her before she gets hurt."

"Missing? In a place like this?" the Beifong girl let out a quite ungirlish laugh. "Please, you can get lost in Omashu, you can get lost in Ba Sing Se, but at Merchant's Pier?"

"Well, forgive me, but my eyes can't see through walls," Zuko snapped hotly.

"Neither can mine," she said. "My feet can, though."

"What."

"How about this; I find your wayward sister, you give me a ride to Bomei. Sound like a plan?" she asked.

"Nephew, this might be a good chance to get to know her. You might even..."

"Enough, Uncle!" Zuko snapped. He turned back to her. "You find my sister, you've got a ride. So. Where do I start looking?"

The girl turned away from him and gave the ground a hard stomp, sending up a plume of dust, and sending Zuko rocking on his feet. He shared a glance with his uncle. Not just a random Earth Kingdom peasant, but an earthbender to boot? Iroh had some seriously myopic tastes when it came to women, it seemed. It was a miracle that he ended up with Auntie before somebody terrible came along and swept him off his feet. With a glance to Iroh's belly, he amended the previous notion to; if such a feat of strength were possible.

"We've got some angry people over that way, bitching about a monk," she said, pointing straight through a building like it wasn't there. "We've got... a mouthy toddler talking to her 'Mama' over that way... Is there anything in particular I should be looking for?"

"Golden eyes, black hair, pale complexion. She's wearing..."

"Yeah, just about none of that helps me," she countered. Zuko raised an eyebrow at that.

"She has an accent, a very strong one," Iroh cut in. "Somewhat like Whalesh, mostly not."

"That sounds oddly familiar," she muttered. She shook her head. "Well, we ain't gonna find her by sitting with our thumbs up our butts. Let's get moving."

As she started to walk off, looking quite content with herself, Zuko shared another glance with his uncle. "Yes, Uncle. She's just my type," he snarked.

"That's delightful. I knew you'd hit it off!"

Zuko palmed his face, hard, and followed after the strange Easterner.

Aang panted heavily, rotating his arms painfully against the strong ache in his shoulders. It came with having to try to fly while holding both of the Tribesmen; it felt like he'd almost pulled his own arms out of their sockets. "That... was... insane," Aang said. "Why did everybody steal from the pirates? In what universe is that a good idea?"

"Wow, we've actually managed to annoy the airbender," Sokka said, inexpertly stitching that stab in the back of the parka closed. "I think we should mark the calendar."

"Sokka," Katara said with impatience. "They stole these things from our people. We couldn't just leave them behind."

"We could have come up with another way," Aang said.

"They're pirates," Sokka said.

"So?"

"There's a reason they're called 'enemies of humanity', Aang."

Aang didn't like that explanation one bit. But even as he wanted to be annoyed with them, he found himself inching toward Katara, who was now struggling with the box which she'd opened without a moment's hesitation before. "What's wrong?" Aang asked.

"When I dropped it, I think something warped," she said. She then turned to him with a honyed expression. "Besides, I thought you wanted us to give it back?"

"Well, there's not much point if they're just going to try to kill us," Aang said, curiosity winning out by a heady margin. "Can I see that for a second?"

She sighed and handed the box over. Aang shook it for a moment, and noted that there were two distinct rattles. The stuff inside was heavy and dense, but a lighter rattle sounded from the body of the box itself. He frowned for a moment, then perked up for a moment. "I've got it! We can pop the lock with waterbending!"

Katara's eyes widened for a moment, then she slapped herself in the brow as Sokka was wont to do. "Of course! Why didn't I think of that?" Aang set about trying to bend up the water from a water skin, and fit it through the cracks, but when he attempted, there was an ominous creek. He backed off, then tried again, to the same result. Katara gently lifted the box out of his possession. "I think this is a situation which calls for precision, not strength."

She poured out just a drop of water, directly into the lock, and held the box for a moment. Then, her eyes pressed closed, she started to work her hand above it. Aang couldn't see what she was doing, but then again, neither could she. But a calm overtook her, and her hands began to less resemble tendon and bone, and more a dark sort of wave, insistent and inevitable, digging deeper. If he was waiting for a click, he was sorely disappointed, because she carefully slid the lid of the passage box aside, then reached in and picked up a splinter of ivory, shaking her head direly at it like it had done her wrong.

"Yup. Broken lock," she said, discarding the chip into the fire. "Now let's see what's inside this thing."

In a flash, three faces were peering down at that box. "What is that?" Aang said.

"It's a family chop," Sokka said, lifting the piece of soapstone out of the box. "I don't recognize the family," he paused for a moment, staring into the distance as he no doubt mentally kicked himself. "And why would I? He's from the North Tribe."

Sokka passed over the 'chop' to Aang. It seemed like it was a mould, carved to contain clay or something, and make a particular form. Katara had quickly moved past a whale-tooth knife and now started carefully unfurling other burnt-hide scrolls. "Aang, I think this guy was a waterbender."

"What do you mean?" Aang asked, tossing the chop back to Sokka.

"These are waterbending primers," she said. "They're like that scroll Zuko tried to bribe me with, but they wouldn't be useful for anybody who doesn't already know something about waterbending."

"What do they say?" Aang asked, peering over them. These weren't illustrated, which Aang found extremely unfortunate, but were long treatises on their art. "Wow. This guy does go on, doesn't he?"

"Great, now you guys got even more stuff to get all weird and waterbendy over," Sokka complained lightly. "You know what? I'm going to go clean the mud and bugs from Appa's feet. That way somebody around here will be doing something useful."

Aang tried to read over Katara's shoulder, but trying to keep up with both the way she flipped through the treatise and make sense of the extremely dense, extremely dull subject matter left him sticking out his tongue and admitting defeat. "Can you just give me the jist of that?"

"There's two of them in here," she said, flipping through the scrolls rapidly. She brightened sharply, thrusting one at arms length with a huge grin. "And one of them's about healing!"

"That's great! Now you'll be able to help people without killing yourself!" Aang said genuinely. "Maybe I can take the other..." Aang began, and then he actually looked at the thick, tightly scribed Yqanuac, such that even his proficiency with the language had a hard time sorting through everything being said. It didn't help that the syntax for the two languages could scarcely be further apart. "Ummm, maybe you can just show me what you learn after you read that."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Katara said, engrossing herself in the readings such that she could offer him nothing more than an off-handed dismissal. Aang sighed to himself, and wandered over to Momo.

"Well, at least you've got time for me," Aang said, scratching the little creature 'twixt its ears. It let out a screech, and turned, showing that it was cradling that jewel to its chest. It chattered angrily at Aang, then hastily flew away, leaving Aang abandoned in the middle of the clearing. "Huh," Aang said with a note of confusion. The whole day had gone in a very strange direction.

"Still shouldn't have stolen from pirates," Aang said to nobody in particular, kicking the dirt nearby.

As much as it stymied her to be lollygagging, she had to see things in a longer perspective. That was the thing about Toph Beifong which surprised even her. Yeah, she could cover the distance from Makapu to Merchant's Pier in a hard day's walk – of which she was still tired from – but what she did when she was actually there? There was a distinct lack of plan-making on her part which got her into this problem. If it hadn't been for the Cool Old Guy and Poutypants, she might have been wandering at random into the wild, heading north until she hit salt water. And that wouldn't have been good for anybody. "Well, have you found anything yet?" Poutypants asked.

"Give her some time. Trackers always have to find a trail," Cool Old Guy placated. She'd decided after about ten seconds that Cool Old Guy was her favorite person over the age of fifty.

"She had a trail," Poutypants pouted.

"I don't track people the way you do," Toph said, trailing a hand along the architecture. It was true. Whatever tracks were physically present would probably be well below her resolution of 'sight', even if she knew exactly what she was looking for. That was one of the drawbacks of her particular variety of perception: details, particularly bodily details, tended to not shine through. While she knew from personal experience that people had faces, with very few exceptions, she hadn't the foggiest idea what they would look like. Sure, she knew that they had a nose, two eyes that probably worked better than hers, a mouth, ears; she knew their configuration, but the overall effect of it? The gestalt of appearance had always been an indecipherable morass to her. It was probably just as well. "Just gimme a minute."

"This is pointless," Poutypants muttered. Toph half turned to him, jabbing out a finger at him.

"Hey, you can either take my help or you can find your sister on your own. You think just because I'm little and I'm blind that I'm frail and useless."

There was a long silence.

"You're blind?" Poutypants asked.

"Wasn't it obvious?"

"Not really, no," he answered, and more critically, he wasn't lying. He shifted slightly. "So how do you... Oh. I think I get it. You use earthbending to see, don't you?"

"Yeah, I do," Toph said, actually amazed that she didn't have to explain her 'vision' to somebody. That was probably a first.

"That's pretty impressive," he said. "I'm assuming there are some drawbacks."

"What's this? Trying to figure me out, are you?"

"I'm interested," the younger of the two men said. Now that he wasn't being all pouty, her initial nickname didn't seem to apply, so she'd have to devise a more appropriate one. He turned to Cool Old Guy, who's nickname would probably never need alteration. "What? What's that look?"

"See?" he asked. "I told you you should find a nice..."

"Uncle! Not! NOW!" he said, anger in his voice, but embarrassment in the rest of him. Toph let out a chuckle at that.

Toph let out a guffaw at that. "Somebody's in loooove," she said, giving him a shove. The laughter trailed off. "Although, if you're going to get all hot under the collar for me, you might bother telling me your name at some point."

"Lee," the youth answered.

"Figures. There's about a million Lees out there," Toph noted, having focused her attention elsewhere at that moment. "So tell me, what's this sister of yours' problem?"

"She gets confused. Sometimes right in the middle of doing something, she'll slip into a seizure, or just completely lose track of whatever she's working on," Lee said slowly, almost like it was painful. Cool Old Guy just nodded and followed, rubbing at what was probably a beard. "I'm always terrified that she's going to have another episode at the worst possible time. It's tearing me up and there's nothing I can do to help her."

"Well, there is one thing," Cool Old Guy offered.

"No," he said adamantly. Toph raised a brow at that. "And besides, none of that matters if she gets hurt because somebody takes advantage of her fugue."

"This sister of yours must be pretty helpless," Toph noted, gauging his reaction. He actually let out a laugh at that.

"She used to be the most dangerous eight year old girl I ever knew. She still is, sometimes. But other times... She needs help. Even she can see that, sometimes. And then there are times like now."

"So she goes between badass and damsel-in-distress?" Toph asked. Anybody who tried writing a character like that would probably get drubbed by his own manuscript. Having consistent characters was the trademark of a proper narrative; if the characters didn't have a set point, how would you know how their adventures changed them? She was about to bring up this narrative quandary when she heard something. Just a little bit of something. A few words, completely out of context, wafting through a tunnel of silence. It wasn't the words which caught her attention, though. It was how they were said. It was the accent of them.

"Hold on a second. I've got something I need to deal with," she said, a scowl affixing onto her face, as she stomped off of the street and headed down an alleyway, into a more seedy, warren-like den of hovels and tenement housing. Oddly, both of them opted to follow her into this squat hole, despite her recommendation that they not. That voice was too familiar. And the chances of 'seeing' it here were so astronomically minute that they could have only happened in fiction. And yet, as she moved closer and the press of the so-many-things pushing in on her perception cleared, she knew that there could be no mistake.

She turned past one entrance to what could be charitably called a street and into a lean-to which was built onto the clay of the ground. As she slammed the door open, the figure inside bounded to her feet, forcing a second, far smaller form behind her as she did so. "Well, it's been a long while, hasn't it, Princess Azula?" Toph said, crossing her arms as the mad royal held a fighting stance before her. On the blind earthbender's face, a smirk was beginning to grow.

Zuko felt his attention divided. The guide, the blind girl, had bolted down an alley to deal with something on her own, but Zuko's keen ear for fleeting conversation brought something to his notice which demanded a bit of attention.

"...but they'll pay for what they took. It's just a matter of waiting for the bald monk kid to show himself."

"Yeah, but what's a monk going to have to pay for what they stole?"

"Who cares? We can lash them to the bowsprit as a warning to the next guys not to steal from us!"

Zuko found himself walking backwards as he assimilated that news. So the pirates had gotten the Avatar and the Tribesmen? That was actually a bit surprising. They were dealing with the Avatar, after all. But their intended use of him? The only one which would have been worse was if they were going to sell him directly to Zuko's father. If the Avatar was dead, then Azula would have nothing, and would fall into despair. He couldn't have that. But still, he had to find her, make sure she wasn't already falling into something much more immediately damaging.

"She's an impressive young lady," Iroh said lightly as Zuko turned back to following their guide.

"She is kinda cute," Zuko admitted. "A bit tiny, though."

"Some people take a while to start growing," Iroh said. "Where do you think she's taking us?"

The question Iroh asked was answered when Toph kicked open the door to a hovel and stomped inside. Zuko and Iroh shared a glance and a shrug of each, and then both of them followed inside. When they did, though, Zuko got a pair of surprises.

"Well, it's been a long while, hasn't it, Princess Azula?" Toph demanded. That was the first of Zuko's surprises. The second, and somewhat more disconcerting of the surprises, was that the fire which flickered away from Azula's outstretched fingers wasn't scarlet, but instead, a bright, dangerous electric blue.

"Stay away from her, Toph. I'm not going to lose her this time," Azula said harshly, her words almost indecipherable.

"Azula, are you alright?" Zuko said, moving forward. She twisted and snapped a blast of fire at him, which he smashed away out of pure instinct, and only after it was a waft of smoke on the clay of the floor did he think to let out a strangled noise of confusion and surprise. "What was that for?"

"You want to take her away, don't you?" Azula said, her eyes practically rolling in her head like marbles. It wasn't that she was angry, or not only that. Azula seemed like she was practically feral! "I won't let you! You've taken enough from me!"

Zuko raised his hands before him. "I'm not going to take anything from you," he said.

"Speak for yourself, Lee," Toph said, tapping a bare foot against the clay. "And I guess that isn't your real name, is it, Prince Zuko?"

Zuko wilted a bit at that. "I don't like people knowing who I am when I travel."

"Yeah, 'cause it'd be a damned shame if they all knew you traveled with a psychotic pyromaniac!" Toph snapped. She turned back to Azula and thrust a finger at her. Azula responded by pushing back slightly, and herding the little girl she for some reason was shielding back as she did so. "You burned my house down!"

"That was your house?" Iroh asked.

Azula actually flinched at that indictment. Her hands opened a bit, the blue fire guttering. "That was a mistake. I shouldn't have done that."

"Oh, good for you, you've figured out that you're not supposed to burn down random people's homes!"

"I don't know why I did that," Azula muttered.

"Gods, that makes it even worse! Bad enough you made us homeless, but you don't even have a reason?" Toph shouted.

"For what it's worth, it is something which I regret," Azula admitted.

"Mama, who's the scary peoples?" a little girl's voice asked in the lull.

"Just stay back, Chiyo," Azula said quietly, patting the girl on the head.

"Who is that?" Iroh asked.

"Don't you dare," Azula said, moving to block Iroh from the girl more completely. "Stay away from us! I've done nothing to you!" then she hesitated. "Well, I have done something, but she's innocent!"

"Who is she?" Zuko asked. "Is she some street girl?"

"I want my daddy," she said.

"Sorry, Chiyo," Azula said, with tones which actually sounded quite tender. "I can't get you your daddy."

"I'm scared," the girl, nominally Chiyo, noted.

"Azula, I'm not going to take the girl away," Zuko promised, slowly moving forward. "I swear it on my mother's soul."

At the last utterance, she seemed to relax, just a little bit. "I'm so tired," Azula said. "I just want to rest."

"It'll be alright, Azula. We'll just go back to the ship, and..." Zuko began.

"NO!" Azula snapped, cradling the child. "No ships!"

Zuko shot a glance to Iroh, but he just watched Azula with a pensive expression, stroking his beard in silence. Toph, though, looked outright baffled. "What the hell is up with this family?" she demanded. "Does this kind 'a crazy run in the blood, or is it unique to her?"

"Don't talk about my sister like that," Zuko said.

"Fine, fine," she muttered. Zuko noted how Azula's glare was fixated on Iroh.

"Uncle, could you give us a moment?"

"Very well," Iroh said, still watching Azula. "I'll be just outside if you need me."

After he departed, Azula finally wilted, like she was not just exhausted but her joints achy and arthritic besides. She turned to Chiyo and pulled her close. "It's going to be alright. I'm not going to let anybody hurt you, Chiyo."

Zuko honestly didn't know what to do with this situation. "Azula, didn't you say you needed a nap?"

She nodded, tears in her eyes as she turned. They weren't angry or sorrowful tears, though. The expression she had when that girl was around her was as close to joy as Zuko had ever seen on Azula's face. "You're right, Zuzu," Azula said. "I do need rest. I'm so tired," she lay down on an old, disused straw mattress, pulling the girl close to her as she did so. "It's going to be alright, Chiyo. I'll keep you safe."

"I want my daddy," Chiyo said quietly, but without real urgency.

"Maybe tomorrow, Chiyo. Maybe tomorrow," Azula said. Zuko turned to Toph, and nodded toward the door to the hovel. She followed him over, a baffled expression on her pale face.

"Man, you weren't kidding when you said she has weird spells," Toph noted.

"I thought you wanted to beat her for burning your house?" Zuko asked.

"In front of a three year old who thinks she's her mother? What am I? A monster?" Toph said. "You were right. Your sis does need some serious help."

"Yeah," Zuko said. He slumped against the wall. His sister might be, for the moment, somewhat mad, but she was also for the moment somewhat safe. But her long term hope and happiness was anything but. He needed to do something about the pirates and the Avatar, and do so before Azula realized he was letting the monk slip away from her. In this condition, that might destroy her just as much as the truth would.

"Toph," Zuko said, his voice small. "I need something from you. It's not easy to ask. But..."

"Spew it, poutypants."

Zuko seethed for a moment at her mockery, but this was more important than his pride. "Azula needs somebody to watch over her. And for some reason, she... accepts you," he waved dismissively. "Yeah, I don't know why either. But she does. So... could you..."

"Look over the chick who tried to kill me with her bare hands a month and a half ago?" Toph finished.

"...Yes?"

The blind girl rested her chin on her knuckles for a long moment, no doubt pondering. When she was finished, she shook her head, not in denial, but in disbelief. "Man, and I thought my life was weird enough as it was. Fine. I'll keep little miss crazy from wandering off again. But if she tries to set me on fire, I'm burying her, adorable three year old or no."

"That's pretty much the best I could hope for," Zuko said. He rose, and opened the door, but before he left, he turned back to her. "Thank you," he whispered earnestly. "This really means a lot to me."

"You'd better hope so," Toph said, settling down into a more comfortable position, as Zuko joined his uncle outside.

"What do you make of this?" Iroh asked.

"I haven't got the first clue," Zuko muttered.

"I think I might have a notion..." Iroh began, but Zuko could tell he was in an expository mood, and Zuko actually needed a bit of haste, so cut him off.

"Whatever it is, it's going to have to wait," Zuko interrupted. "The Avatar got taken by the pirates, and we have to get him back before it's too late."

"Even now, you're still obsessed by the hunt for the Avatar?" Iroh asked, disapproval clear in his voice. "You need to get some perspective! Your sister needs you in there!"

"My sister needs me out there even more," Zuko snapped. "Don't tell me I don't have perspective; lately, all it seems I've been doing is getting a better sense of where I fit in this world. And where Azula fits, too. Everything I've done, I've done for her. Everything I do now, I'm doing for her. So don't you dare say I don't have perspective!"

Iroh watched Zuko's inflamed tirade without a whisper of reproach or dismay. Just a calm expression, bespeaking carefully figuring things out. "Are you sure this is where you're needed the most?" Iroh asked simply.

"As sure as the sun rises," Zuko said. Both being firebenders, the saying had a very intrinsic and unshakable meaning to them both.

"Then I will help you. But please, Zuko. Make sure you're doing this for the right reasons."

"I am, Uncle," he said. "I just want this whole mess over with."

Toph tapped her foot, trying to keep the outrage from boiling over. All told, it wasn't easy. While having the psychotic pyromaniac return in the second act was a staple of pretty much every fiction which included Fire Nationals – or at least, works of its ilk – the situation Toph found herself in at the moment was wholly outside the usual fare from her afternoons with Keung. He'd gone over hundreds of narratives, and she'd digested them ravenously; having somebody who didn't try to dumb things down on account of her malady made it so she actually had to keep up with her instructor, rather than the instructor artificially limiting her progress, was a delight indeed. Thoughts of Yu, her 'earthbending teacher' sprung to mind, and she punctuated that thought with a kick into the clay.

"Alright, I've held my tongue long enough. What the hell's up with the kid?" Toph asked.

"Hrmn what?" Azula muttered.

"I'm hung'y," the girl said with a sad tone. "I want my daddy."

"I've told you, you can't see your daddy right now," Azula said calmly, hovering over the girl.

"Did you kidnap this kid?" Toph asked.

"Are you insane?" Azula snapped, a righteous sort of anger digging into her voice. "How could I kidnap Chiyo?"

"I'm hung'y!" the girl repeated. Toph didn't know what to make of this. By all narrative necessity, she was supposed to be the insurmountable threat, the shadowy colossus who appears at the moment of greatest hope to bring the hero – Toph, she could only assume – to her lowest point, fueling the urgency of the story. But if Toph's shadowy colossus was herself in the midst of that kind of narrative upheaval, then what sort of story was Toph living in? It certainly didn't feel like a comedy, and romance was right out of the question. She pondered that it might be one of the more western stories. Azula rose, moving stiffly and slowly to something like a pantry, and threw it open. There wasn't much in there, just a chunk of salted fish which Toph didn't even want to think about how long it'd been there. Azula sighed, a sigh which Toph had heard before, quite a few times even during her trip up to Makapu.

"This is all we've got, Chiyo," Azula said, showing the girl the meat. The girl stuck out her tongue in disgust. "I thought so."

"You didn't answer my question."

"You know who she is, Beifong," Azula said. "Don't ask stupid questions."

"You callin' me stupid?" Toph demanded.

"I'm calling your questions stupid. How did you find me?"

"Don't turn this around on me," Toph shook her head. "I'm the one in charge of the questioning here."

"Are you?" the woman asked, and a chuckle came from her mouth as she sat, almost frumpy to Toph's 'sight', sinking onto that stool like it was the only thing keeping her from dropping through the world. "We've never seen things eye to eye, have we?"

"You burned my house down."

"And you burned mine," Azula said. Then, she got a very odd 'look' about her, like a tremble ran through her. "Wait... that didn't happen yet, did it?" she let out a groan, cradling her head. "There's so much to keep track of. I can't keep it all straight."

"I'm gonna burn your house down?" Toph asked, crossing her arms before her. "Well, when I do, I'll consider us payed off. What's your deal? All the world knows about you is that you were the Fire Lord's punching bag, the little artist girl who he kicked out without rhyme or reason..."

"My father loves me!" Azula shouted, which caused Chiyo to flinch. "Oh, I'm sorry, don't be scared."

"I don't like yellin'," the girl said quietly.

"I won't yell, I promise," Azula said, rubbing the girl's back comfortingly. She then turned back to Toph. "You don't know anything about my family, Beifong. Perhaps it's my fault for keeping things close to the chest, but the fact remains. My family is my business."

Toph raised a confused brow at that. "I'm just sayin', if my dad kicked me off of a continent, I might hold some resentment toward him."

"He's testing me," Azula said, resolutely. "That way, when I show him just how powerful I've become, he'll welcome me back with open arms. I'll have my honor back, I'll have Father's love."

"Wait," Toph said, cutting her off. "He banishes you, and gives you some sort of insurmountable task, I'm assuming?" Azula gave a reluctant nod, "and when you complete it, you get to go home."

"That is a gross oversimplification."

"Am I wrong?"

Toph couldn't be sure, for her blindness, but she was fairly sure Azula was glaring at her.

"Man, I was thinkin' with the wrong narrative," Toph said. "This is a Western."

Azula could be assumed to stare at her for a moment, because there was a long silence, broken only by Chiyo's quiet mumbling. "What."

"Western literature; you usually get three choices of ending in it, though," Toph ticked them off her fingers. "You can beat the bad guy, you can survive, and you can get the love interest, but you can only pick two of the three."

"That isn't a choice at all," Azula said. "Romance is overrated."

"Tell me about it," Toph muttered. "Like I'm going to play second stage to anybody."

"Hrm," Azula said, something half-way between agreement and dismissal. Chiyo turned to her, and Azula scooped her up without a second's hesitation. "I have a chance to make things perfect. I can see... something. But I don't know how to get there yet."

"You don't make sense often, do you?"

"I make as much sense as I wish to," Azula said blithely. She turned away, and began humming what Toph figured was some sort of Fire Nation lullaby to the clinging child. Toph leaned back against the door, but in the back of her mind, she had the niggling sense in the back of her mind that something was seriously wrong. And more vexingly, she didn't even get an answer for her first question.

Katara fought against her binds, as she often found herself doing since her exile from the South Pole. And like Kyoshi Island, she was gagged. And for exactly the same reason. She glared daggers and fire at the pirate captain, who sat behind his desk, staring at the three of them. Of the three of them, it was Sokka who was the least well bound, if mostly because Aang was such a pain to bring down; they hadn't bothered removing the net from the Avatar, just binding him up inside it.

"Now what am I going to do with you?" the one-eyed captain asked. "Ordinarily, I'd just have you whipped overlooking the docks, as a warning to anybody else who thinks she can steal from me. But you hid my goods. Tell me where they are."

"They don't belong to you!" Sokka spoke up.

"There is a saying on the seas, Tribesman, one I'm sure you're well aware of: If none can contest something's ownership, it's yours."

"You killed one of my people!" Sokka said.

"Or maybe I bought it from him?" the captain offered. "After all, I am a businessman."

"No Tribesman would give away something like that," Aang piped up.

"And what would you know of it, monk? Are you some expert on what every Tribesman in the world will do, in any circumstance? Are you? I thought not. Now, since you're not going to return what you stole, I'm going to have to think of a more appropriate punishment for your crime."

"The only one committing a crime here is you!" Sokka shouted. Katara joined his pronouncement with a muffled mumble from behind her gag. The captain answered that by pulling out a long, straight sword, and leveling it at Sokka's face. He pushed back against the burly pirate who was holding him in place, and likewise keeping a foot on the tethers holding Aang down.

"On this ship, I'm the law. You stole from me. And that means, I decide the punishment."

Katara's blood began to run cold. There wasn't anything she could do. Not here. There was no water to bend, and even if there was, she didn't have nearly enough freedom of movement to bend it. But as cold as the terror made her blood, it was the next voice which chilled it right into ice.

"Perhaps you don't stand to lose everything today," Prince Zuko's voice came from the doorway. The captain's blade flicked away from Sokka and toward the Fire Nation Prince, who now entered the room calm as you please. Behind him, a pudgy, older fellow was obviously enamored of that monkey statue. Zuko gave a glance back, and sighed. "Uncle, focus!"

"Isn't this handsome? Wouldn't it look lovely in the galley?"

"Not now, Uncle!" Zuko snapped. He turned back to the captain. "I see you have some flesh on the block. It so happens that I'm in the market for it."

"I don't typically sell slaves, child."

"These aren't typical times," Zuko said smoothly. "While killing them might serve to sate your anger, I find that gold has a calming effect all its own. So name your price."

"For whom?" the captain asked, running a thumb up and down the blade of that quite dangerous sword.

"All of them," Zuko said.

"You can't seriously be thinking about this," Sokka said.

"Shut your mouth, peasant," Zuko snapped.

"I mean, you've gotta figure that the Avatar will fetch a far better price if you sell him to the Fire Lord than this scrub can pay you," Sokka said. Oh, for the love of the gods in the heavens, Sokka, SHUT THE HELL UP! Katara shouted and railed against her gag, and struggled as much as her captor would allow, but nothing would break Sokka's spiel. The captain flicked the blade toward Aang.

"Are you saying this child is the Avatar?" the captain asked.

"Yup. Master of the elements, great bridge between the worlds. All that great stuff," Sokka said.

"I said be silent!" Zuko roared.

"You know what, you're right. The boy isn't for sale. I can buy a fleet with what the Fire Lord is offering for him," the captain said. Zuko's gaze swept past Katara, and she could see... was that desperation in his eyes? If it was, it wasn't there long, because by the time they lit upon the captain once again, they were all smooth and businesslike again.

"Very well. Far be it for me to deprive you of a good deal once discovered," Zuko said. He then sidled closer to Katara, and ran a finger down her cheek. If she had the capability, she would have bit it off. "But the girl, on the other hand... She does strike my fancy."

"Nephew, are you really going to..." Zuko's uncle asked. Zuko turned to him, but didn't say anything. The uncle sighed. "Very well."

"You can't take my sister, you fiend!" Sokka railed.

"I'll pay you five silver Rubble right now if you gag him," Zuko said flatly. "His voice grates on my ears."

"Deal," the captain said, nodding to the pirate behind Sokka. Despite her brother's best efforts he was quickly as gagged as she was.

"Don't do this, Zuko! Please!" Aang said.

"Nobody's listening to you, Avatar," Zuko said dismissively. He turned to the captain, a licentious smile pulling at his face. "I hope you don't mind if I more... fully inspect... my purchase before committing money. I wouldn't want a slave beset with pox or leprosy."

The captain seemed to struggle with that for a moment. For all he was a pirate, he seemed to be a somewhat moral one. "If you damage her worth, then you'll find we have ways of extracting that money from you."

"Oh, trust me, she won't be harmed in any... lasting way," Zuko said, grabbing the strap of her gag and hauling her toward the door. She fought and twisted, trying to get away, but all that served was to knock her from her feet and leave Zuko dragging her by her face, through that hold and into a more 'private' room, with Aang's desperate, anguished screams sounding after her.

Zuko slammed the door, leaving them both cut off from the rest of the ship, and propped her up against the wall. He leaned in very close, and she tried to lean away, since any contact with him would be an unforgivable violation. And still, his next words caught her entirely by surprise.

"I'm going to save you from the pirates," Zuko said flatly.

She stared at him in shock and surprise.

"Scream if you feel like it," Zuko said, pulling a knife from his belt. Katara leaned hard away from it, but while it did slide along her cheek, it was solely to sever the strap holding the gag between her teeth. She spat it out, and then turned her eyes back up to the Fire Nation Prince.

"You Bastard! You're a horrible person! Why do you keep..." she screamed. At that, though, Zuko pressed his hand over her mouth, muffling the rest.

"I know. I'm everything that's wrong with the world and a just deity would smite me where I stand. But I've got more important things to deal with right now," Zuko said, his tones cold, and obviously unhappy. "Feel capable of a civil conversation?" Her glare was her answer. Zuko sighed, and shrugged. "Well, it's going to happen anyway."

"What do you want with me?"

"I want you to rescue the others and leave," Zuko said.

"And leave the Avatar to you, I take it?" she asked caustically. He looked away for a moment, and a shadow fell over half of his face.

"I don't want him. Get him out of here."

She twisted against the bonds which he hadn't cut yet, and tried to turn the idea over in her head until it made some sort of sense. Why would he do this? What did he have to gain by letting Aang go? Katara wasn't going to assume Zuko was an idiot, after all; if you had a fish in the net, you don't throw it back into the ocean before you spear it. "Why?" Katara asked.

"It doesn't matter. Just stay away from me."

"So you're not hunting us anymore?"

"It's... complicated," Zuko muttered, as he started opening her binds. "If I catch you, I lose everything. If I stop hunting you, I lose my family. So I expect you to get the others and go."

"You can't be doing this out of the goodness of your heart," Katara muttered as the loops binding her arms stationary finally released and pooled around her.

Zuko turned and faced the doorway, fists clenched tight. "Have you ever had everything you ever wanted offered to you, but at a price of your very soul? I could be the son my father wanted, but I wouldn't be any man I would want to be. So if that's your definition of selfish, woman, then yes, I'm selfish. I'm selfish because I've seen what my future looks like, and it disgusts me. I'm selfish because I want to keep what's left of my family whole."

Katara wanted to scream at him, to vent her rage and hatred at him, to blame him for every ill which had befell her people. In another lifetime, she would have. But the fact was, Katara had never known her mother. The loss of Kya was no loss at all, more of an on-going absence. It wasn't possible to miss somebody one never knew. And, unless her ear for honesty was utterly shot, and unless he was some sort of sociopath, at least some of that had to be true. She stood, annoyed that she still had to look up to see him in the eye. "Fine. You stop hunting us, and..."

"I won't stop hunting. I'll just stop trying to win," Zuko said flatly. He turned to her. "You might want to stay away from my sister though. She really hates you for some reason. What did you do to her, anyway?"

"Your sister?" Katara asked. "All I did was yell at her. I haven't done anything to her."

Zuko frowned. "Maybe it just hasn't happened yet," he said cryptically. She was about to ask him what he meant by that, but he turned to her. "Can you get the others out of here and off the boat?"

"I don't know," Katara admitted. "I don't have my water pouch, and I'm cut off from my element."

"Cut off from your element?" Zuko said incredulously. "You're standing on a boat! We're surrounded by water!"

"Yes, but if I can't see it, I can't bend it," Katara said. Well, that wasn't strictly true, since the first waterbending that she'd done which she'd taken great pride in was ironically enough the act which sealed her exile from the Water Tribe, using her waterbending to save Azula's life.

"There are barrels of grog outside," Zuko said.

"Well, that's handy, because I am called 'the Last Beerbender'," Katara said snidely.

Zuko stared at her for a long moment. "How have we not wiped you out yet?"

"We're a lot tougher than you are."

"You must be," Zuko said. He frowned for a moment, though. "Wait a second."

"What now?"

"Do you feel that?"

Katara scowled at him. "Feel what?"

"And you call yourself a Tribesman," Zuko muttered. "The boat! We're at sea!"

"At sea? Why would we be at sea?" Katara asked, but Zuko was already bolting out of the hold, and rounding on the captain's den. Katara took a more subtle approach, and because of that, found a burlap sack which was shrieking angrily. Katara quickly unbound it and released the lemur within. "Come on, Momo. We've got some pirates to whup."

Momo seemed to be agreeing with that course of action whole-heartedly. It fell silent as Katara crept behind where Zuko had gone storming. The door slammed open ahead of him, and he faced down what seemed to be a sizable portion of the pirates' boarding party, all gathered into the room, and holding Zuko's uncle at sword point. The uncle seemed utterly zen about the whole situation, but Zuko was quite literally breathing fire over it. "What is the meaning of this mutiny!" Zuko roared.

"It's not mutiny if it's not your crew," the captain said, his tone condescending. "Did you really think I wouldn't recognize the Dragon of the West? The bounty on his head by the Earth King is almost as massive as the Avatar's! Why reap one pay-day, when I can have both?"

"You put to sea to capture us?" Zuko asked. He growled to himself. "Why didn't I see this coming? I'm dealing with pirates!"

"Yeah, kinda a bonehead maneuver there," Sokka oh-so-helpfully jibed, from his place lying on the floor with a boot on his back. Obviously, Sokka had managed to ungag himself, which irritated Katara profoundly. Zuko wilted slightly.

"This is all my fault," Zuko muttered.

"No it isn't," Aang tried to help. Sometimes it baffled her how somebody in his position could remain so innocent for so long.

"Yeah, it kinda is," the uncle countered, but not mean-spiritedly.

"Momo, go and free Sokka, and I'll give you a whole bushel of apples," Katara whispered. Momo seemed to brighten by a solid measure and started to creep through the room behind the ankles of the assembled pirates and sundry.

"Although, I must say, I am solidly impressed by your confidence," Zuko's uncle said, slowly rising to his feet. The blades followed him up. "What is it that they say about the Dragon of the West these days?"

There was a long silence, punctuated by one of the pirates coughing.

"Oh, by all means, speak up!" the uncle cajoled, almost good-naturedly.

"Uncle, what are you doing?" Zuko hissed.

"They say he can fire lightning from his fingertips," one of the pirates offered.

"And catch it just as easily."

"And that he makes fireballs out of lightning!"

"They say that when he when the last dragon learned that he was hunting it, it just lay down so that the end would come quickly."

"They say that he slew a thousand men to recover one fallen soldier at Ba Sing Se."

"And they say that he was given a blessing by a spirit, that no mortal arrow or weapon may slay him."

"They say that he's bound the spirit of the dragon he slayed to him, to make him stronger."

"What about how..."

"ENOUGH!" the captain cut off all the others, but the uncle just calmly reached to the captain's own table and grabbed a cup of tea. Katara took a moment to look around. No water, nothing that she could use. But her eyes slid to that barrel again. She had a scowl on her face as she reconsidered her options. It was either going to be uselessness, and ignominy... or it would be Katara, the First Beerbender. With a grumble, she started to bend, and obeying her most embarrassing expectations, the fluid began to rush out of the bung and obey her.

"Oh, well that's just great," Katara whispered without joy. She wasn't going to hear the end of this, she just knew it.

"Impressive. Very impressive. You must have a fortitude of courage the likes of which I've never encountered to stand here, to think that you can restrain me," he said. "But would you like to know the real reason they call me the Dragon of the West?"

"You will not say two more words, or I'll deliver you to the Earth King without a tongue," the captain swore. Zuko's uncle had a bright smile on his face, and it had infected Zuko as well – although the latter's held more than a fair share of deviousness in it.

"Oh, no words," the uncle said. "Just a brief demonstration."

And then, with a scream, the room filled with fire, shot forth from the uncle's breath. The pirates had to dive aside or be seared into ashes by the conflagration. He'd half swept the room when the first spear slashed toward the old man, only to be deflected by Zuko. Katara took this as her opportunity to enter into the maelstrom, and started beerbending for all she was worth.

Just the embarrassment of holding that thought in her head turned a water-whip into more like a forced feeding. Still, the weight and effect of having a barrel's worth of water smashed down one's throat had the effect she was looking for of getting the pirate off of her brother's back. He immediately rolled over and started working the knots on Aang's back.

"Just cut the rope!" Katara shouted, before one of the pirates threw something onto the ground, and the entire room filled with smoke.

"You idiot!" the captain coughed. "You don't use those indoors!"

"B't naw d' can't shee!"

"You've got your teeth in upside down again!" the captain shouted. "Find them and restrain them! I'm not losing my payday to this trickery."

"Why is it firebenders keep setting this ship on fire!" the barker's voice whined in the murk.

"That's what we do best," Zuko's voice sounded full of grim humor. The barker then let out a squawk, and there was a shattering of glass. The murk began to fade somewhat, as the smoke from the smoke bombs now had a way to vent. But Katara wasn't going to wait for the smoke to part; her task was getting the others out of this purgatory before it was too late. With a fist full of two shirts, she heaved, dragging them out of the captain's quarters, and part of the way through the hold before the smoke cleared enough that she could take a worthwhile breath, and turned to her brother and the Avatar.

Correction, her brother and a lean, baffled looking pirate. The pirate let out a scream and started to slash at her. She beckoned toward the barrels around her, but these were all stoppered. Bending water she couldn't see was one thing. Getting enough momentum to break them out of a sturdy shell was quite another apparently, especially if it was alcohol and not brine or pure water. At this moment, she was kicking herself for spending all that time reading the healing treatise and ignoring the others.

The pirate slashed at her with his saber, but Sokka shoved her aside so that the blade slashed into the framework of the hold instead. This had the unfortunate effect of also sending Katara face-first into a crate, which hurt about as much as she could have expected it to. Sokka then favored the pirate with a clip in the ribs with a sturdy bit of wood about as long as her forearm. The pirate turned his whole attention from Katara, who was trying to shake the stars from her eyes due to the bash her head took on the landing, to her sibling, who now bounded back, keeping that flimsy bit of wood between he and the pirate the whole time. The pirate swung time after wild time, and Sokka always managed to get away at the last possible moment, the blade sinking into wood where flesh had been a moment before. It wasn't until they'd done a complete circuit of the little ring in the hold that Sokka held his hands above his head.

"Okay, that's it," Sokka said.

"What? You can't fight me anymore?" the pirate demanded. Sokka chucked the stick up, onto the pile of various cargo.

"Not really," Sokka said. There was a wooden groan, and then the pirate turned, with just enough time to start a surprised scream before the framework which had been holding the cargo in place snapped apart, and the contents of it spilled down onto his back. "Since I paid attention to where I was, I wouldn't have to."

"Where's Aang?" Katara asked.

"Over here!" the monk's voice came as he bounded out of the smoke, in the roughly three feet between the top of the cargo and the ceiling of the hold. He cleared most of that hold before touching down on its far side. Sokka grabbed Katara and hauled her to her feet.

"Are you alright?" Sokka asked. "What did that demon do to you?"

"Nothing, he actually... ow my head hurts," Katara broke off, still feeling a bit dizzy.

"Well, come on! We can't fight all of them at once!"

Thus it went that Katara got dragged up into the grey, overcast afternoon, wind moaning across the waters of this shallows, as the fight spilled out onto the deck. To call it a fight was giving the pirates a lot more credit than they deserved, possibly, because adding an airbender to a large group of people fighting over a small standing space, meant that combat usually consisted of a flick of airbending which sent one or more pirates sailing through the air. While the pace wasn't what Katara could have hoped for, with her mildly concussed state working against her, she couldn't do much to help.

"How are we going to get off of this boat?" Sokka shouted. Aang paused for a moment, as though only in that moment realizing that he had a very real problem that no amount of pirate flinging could solve. He got a grin on his face, though, as he pulled out that worthless whistle, and took in a breath so deep that it seemed to cause a momentary backdraft, before blasting it through the broken instrument. Sokka stared, deadpan, at the monk. "Oh, hurray. We're all saved."

"Sokka! They're behind us!" Katara shouted, and she found herself being scooped up and dumped over a railing, to be caught by Aang below, while Sokka started to desperately dodge the slashing and stabbing of the pirates who had them surrounded. It was at about this moment that Katara decided that, concussion or no, she wasn't going to be the load today. She focused past the pain and the dullness of her mind, and rooted her feet, even as Aang started to spin around, trying to keep the seamen from swamping them. Katara moved through the motions that she'd seen before. Moving waves was the first waterbending she'd ever done. This was just doing it on a bigger scale.

Above, half a glance showed that Sokka had once again turned the ship against its crew, first by dodging their attacks around a mast, and then using a length of rope to affix one, then hip-check him overboard. The weight of one pirate falling into the drink ran over a pulley she hadn't noticed, and sent the pirate's much lighter comrade skyward. Katara kept bending. Almost. Almost.

With a grim smile, she watched as a wave finally mounted, like those around it but so much greater. It crested, great waves of foam flicking almost invisibly against the cloud cover. Katara would have been impressed at how much water she was bending, if it didn't come with a very sharp sense of panic that in her damaged state, she might well have done more than she could handle. That suspicion turned to confirmation when that great tsunami slammed into the side of the ship, and the whole thing listed almost right over, with everybody not braced against the impact sliding down the deck, if not being flung right into the waves. Only because Katara had hastily frozen her feet to the decking did she not go with them. Still, she slowly pushed herself back to her feet, and flicked away the oppressive wet which now saturated everything. Aang looked quite pleased, and annoyingly dry.

"That was amazing, Katara!" Aang said.

"My head hurts," Katara answered, feeling a bit weak in the knees. "And I think I just washed away our only way off the ship," she said, pointing to where a skiff was now floating independent of the ship.

"Not entirely," Sokka said, swiping the hair which, in the maelstrom, had come undone and now lay at random around his face. He pointed into the distance, at something which was much like a cloud, but a very different one. Namely, because this one was traveling at a monumental pace, and in all likelihood was going to cover Sokka in snot before the week was out.

"Appa!" Aang bounced up, intercepting the bison as it made a pass over the boat. But not a very good pass, because it smashed the side of the hull with its tail as it skimmed over. This time, Katara was sprawled across the deck from the impact. The bison came back around, and Sokka helped heave Katara into the howdah. "See? I knew having a bison whistle would come in handy!"

Katara just turned to her brother. "You know what? I give up," he said, not bothering to fight the universe on this one.

"Well, we've got to go," Aang said. "It's not far to Bomei, even with this side-trek."

"We'd better pick up our things before we go."

"You know, this whole situation would have been avoided if you'd had some sense," Aang said with a preachy tone. "So what have we learned?"

"Stealing is wrong," Sokka said boredly.

"Unless it's from pirates," Katara amended. She could tell from the way that Aang slumped, that he too had given up on fighting this particular battle.

Fighting a sword-wielding pirate bare handed was not what Zuko wanted to end the day with, but doing it in the closed, blind hell of the holds was not something he wanted to undertake. Especially after the two great blows the ship withstood from without not too long ago. Zuko had been in retreat when the second hit, and the impact of it actually burst free one of the timbers of the hull, letting water spill in at an alarming rate. The plus side of the equation was that, with all of the water saturating the wood, Zuko finally felt free to cut loose and firebend as he saw fit.

And oh, how he saw fit.

The others had left before. He could see them receding into the distance even as he broke free of the smoke and the steam that the ship's leaking and his firebending had combined to create. The pirates that didn't get out of his way quickly found themselves afire, and bailing over the rails to quench those hungry flames. Zuko had exactly zero sympathy for them. But that was a thing of the past, because at the moment, he had a portly but astoundingly quick one-eyed pirate captain to hold his attention. A grinding of steel upon steel hit the air as Zuko narrowly deflected aside a thrust with one of his battered bracers; if they took this kind of punishment, he'd have to replace them soon, no matter the cost. Zuko couldn't get the breathing room to firebend, though, and fighting at this range was not something that he'd prepared for, to his chagrin.

Thus it came as a relief when he felt his hair being wrenched aside and back, and he was spun away from his opponent. The captain was likewise forced off, leaving the two of them standing several paces from each other, with Uncle Iroh standing between them. "Are you both so foolish to continue fighting on a sinking ship?"

"I've got no time for your proverbs, bounty," the captain snarled.

"It's not a proverb," Zuko said, giving a nod to the sea. Even the most cursory understanding of which way was down showed that the ship was slipping into the water, port-side first, to join the doubtless dozens of others which had went down in this shallows.

"Maybe it should be a proverb," Iroh muttered.

"Flaming Hogmonkeys!" the captain screamed, rushing to the rail. "All men! Bail as your life depends on it! Get us back to shore!"

Zuko couldn't help but offer a sincere and mocking laugh at the man's distress. "You've probably got things well in hand. I'll leave you to it."

"You're just going to leave them like this?" Iroh asked.

"Shouldn't I?" Zuko asked. "They were going to sell you to the Earth King."

"They were going to try," Iroh said with a merry twinkle. He looked at the flotsam on the waves and spotted one of the skiffs which had been torn loose at some point, but was still quite buoyant. "Ah, I see our way back. Fancy a swim?"

"I don't really have an option right now, do I?" Zuko asked, a smirk on his face, as he bounded first up onto the rail, and then over it and into the sea.

That nothing had broken in the last twenty minutes told Iroh what he needed to know about the situation. Namely, that Qiao had things under control. Iroh cautiously opened up the door, and beheld his twelve year old niece on her bed, her knees pulled tight to her chest. Qiao was beside her, giving her a comforting back rub, but Azula looked nothing if not a wild animal which was only behaving at the moment because it knew it wouldn't get free... yet. And the way that she stared at Iroh was much too vitriolic for his liking. "See, everything is fine," Qiao said. "It was just a bad dream."

"Not bad dream," Azula said, the words still awkward. It had taken Iroh longer than most to realize Azula's aphasia wasn't going to correct itself. In fact, it seemed to be a permanent fact, one that there was no recovery from. Whatever grasp of the Huojian – and in fact any – language which she had before the illness began was utterly lost, and it was like she had to learn how to speak all over again. She did so, of course, and did so swiftly, but swiftness and ease were not the same thing to the poor girl. "Had knowledge. Acted on knowledge. Still think knowledge was right."

"When you were young, you lashed out against Shou. Has something changed there?"

"Shou is Shou. Don't remember before; doesn't matter. Don't trust you. Don't know why."

"Azula, you have to know that I am on your side."

"Ha!" Azula let out a bitter laugh. "Angry that father is Fire Lord. Vengeful. Want power back," she took in a deep breath. "Usurpation inevitable."

"I cannot say what my brother told Father to get him to retract my birthright. I can guess," Iroh said, taking a seat opposite his wife. As he did, Azula moved closer to Qiao. "But whatever it was, the fact is, your father, my brother, is now Fire Lord. Nothing I do is going to change that."

"Doubtful. Might act stupid, but cunning. Must have plans, contingencies, organizations. Must have leverage somewhere," she took another breath. "Have secrets."

Iroh didn't like the look in Azula's eyes as she said that last part, but he only sighed at the indictment. He had never been particularly close to Azula, and now it seemed to be coming back to bite him. "We all have secrets, Azula. It's just a matter of knowing what kind of secrets they are."

"Too many old men," Azula shook her head, staring past the bulkheads which were very quickly filling up with the many efforts of her artistic work. The years since her illness had struck her gave her but one positive effect, and that was her skill and zeal in painting and the like. "Crazy, cunning, cowardly old men. Too many places. Too many competing viewpoints... Fractures inevitable."

Qiao gave him a glance over Azula's head. A glance which said 'does she know?' If she did, Iroh hadn't the first clue as to how. He just patted her hand. "Well, maybe some day you'll have secrets like mine, and you'll understand why you have to keep them to yourself."

"Know all about keeping secrets," Azula muttered, turning her eyes to the floor.

"Sweetheart, are you going to apologize for throwing that bottle at your uncle's head?" Qiao asked kindly.

"No."

"Maybe we should just let it be," Iroh said. Qiao gave a querulous expression, but Iroh shook his head minutely. "I'm overdue at the helm. The new pilot is... a bit wet behind the ears."

"Stupid saying. Is sailor. Of course wet behind ears," Azula muttered. Iroh left the room quietly, leaving his wife to try to figure out what the the hell happened. Iroh had been talking with her quite calmly, praising her on the beauty of one of her more recent pieces, which showed some sort of bald person standing, almost a hint of mockery in his stance, upon the prow of one of four burning boats. Iroh could have sworn he recognized the other figure in the portrait, but dismissed it as an old man's grasping for lost images. Then, she just... changed. She started shrieking in that nonsense tongue she still sometimes lapsed into, hurling things at him. Iroh didn't make the pronouncement lightly, but there was murder in that girl's eyes, before Qiao came to calm her down.

"Uncle, what's going on in there?" Zuko asked, from where he was fretfully waiting around the corner.

"I really don't know, Prince Zuko," Iroh said, patting the lad on the shoulder and taking care not to brush against the bandages which pressed against his neck. "I wish I did."

As the flavor of the papaya slice fled from his tongue, so too did the memory it evoked. It was odd the kind of things which would trigger a memory. Odd, but not surprising. One of his departed compatriots once related how he'd written an entire book of recollections based on the stream of consciousness brought about by the smell of a biscuit dunked into tea. Iroh had read that book. It was not short. Iroh kept pace with his nephew, despite the latter's longer legs and youthful vitality. He didn't doubt that Zuko would be keeping the murderous pace the whole way, though. It wouldn't take long to reach the hovel.

Zuko pushed through the door without so much as a knock, and Iroh could see a very befuddled looking Beifong standing a bit back from his niece. "What's going on?" Zuko asked, wariness peaking suddenly.

"I don't know," Beifong said. "We were having a good old-fashioned argument, and then she started blathering nonsense."

"What?"

"You can't buy for the end of the foot ball," Azula said.

"The what?" Beifong asked.

"End of the foot ball!" she stressed, as though volume would somehow make it more sensible. Zuko, though had gone quite pale. Beifong half turned to him.

"Okay, now y'all are starting to scare me. What's going on?"

"Mama? Are you a'right?" Chiyo asked. She then turned to Beifong. "Mama, why is she talk'n funny?"

"Azula, don't worry, we're right here," Zuko said, taking her hand and easing her down to the ground. She first looked a bit annoyed at him, but her eyes bugged, and her body tensed hard, her fingers curling into claws. Then, there was a hiss of her breath being forced from her lungs. But where the last attack, the one which happened at the manor in Gaoling, was devastating – an explosion of a faulty pressure cooker – this was more soft, a releasing of pressure, like steam escaping from a ruptured boiler until the whole thing shut down. No great flailing, just tension, slow movements, and a gasp at the end.

"Mama?" Chiyo asked. Azula answered at a groan, and slowly raised a hand to her brow, wiping away the sweat.

"We should get them back to the ship," Zuko said quietly.

"Where... am I?" Azula asked. Iroh's eyes popped a bit at that. She usually never recovered so quickly. But then again, this episode was almost a non-event compared to how she could be.

"You're in a hovel," Toph answered. Azula turned down to her, and flinched back for a moment, before shaking her head.

"What's she doing here?" Azula demanded.

"She helped us find you. She made sure nothing bad happened to you," Zuko said. "Don't you remember?"

"Would I ask if I remembered?"

"You would if it made somebody else look like an idiot," Toph answered, as though quoting somebody. Probably Azula herself. Thus it was that Azula glared at the woman, but didn't do more.

"Mama, 'r you a'right?" Chiyo asked, tugging at Azula's blouse. Azula turned her gaze down to the child.

"Do I look like anybody's mother, child? Go away," she said.

"Don't you recognize her?" Iroh asked. Azula turned from the girl, who was looking somewhat beside herself, and back to Iroh.

"Should I?" Azula asked. Come to think of it, her accent was much reduced now. Iroh filed that away, to see later if it conformed to his working theory. "Who is this child?"

"You said her name was Chiyo," Iroh said.

"Is that your name?" Azula asked. The girl shook her head. "And the bottom falls out of your story."

"You swore up and down that was her name," Beifong pointed out.

"And if I remember correctly, you tried to kill me."

"You burned down my house!" Beifong shouted. Her tirade looked like it was only just beginning, a finger thrust forward in implication, but the whole lot of them were interrupted when the door slammed open behind them. All of them, even Azula, turned over fists pointed toward the intruder, who was a man probably not far past his thirtieth year, but he looked far older, because the worry which was currently plastered on his face looked to be a fairly consistent feature. He gave a start at so many aggressive people levied against him, but when he looked through them, his face brightened.

"YUI!" he shouted, and actually shouldered Iroh aside, something he hadn't considered possible, in order to scoop up the little girl on the ground.

"Daddy!" she cried happily.

"I was so worried about you," the man said, hugging her hard to his chest. "I'm not leaving you with Xuei, not ever again. I promise this will never happen again."

"I'm a'right daddy," the girl, nominally Yui, answered. "You c'n stop cryin'."

"This is your daughter?" Azula said. The man nodded.

"I was told that a girl had taken her into the hovels. I was terrified, that something might have happened to her. Was that...?"

"Mama was real good to me," Yui said sweetly.

"She's not your Mama," the father said patiently, as though he'd gone over this before. "Mama is gone," he turned to the others. "She doesn't really understand what happened to her mother."

"My sister looked after your little girl," Zuko said, dropping his fists. "Yui... was perfectly safe."

"Bless you," the man said genuinely. "After her mother died, she's pretty much all I've got left," he paused for a moment, looking at Azula. "You know, you look a lot like her."

Uncle and nephew shared a glance. Both were considering things, probably very different things, but neither spoke. Azula stretched slightly, utterly ignoring the child whom so recently had held her entire attention. "Merchant's Pier?" she asked. Zuko nodded.

"We've missed our shot," Zuko told her.

"What shot?" she asked. Beifong stared at the space between them, confusion on her face.

"Why the hell are you two talkin' in spy-speak?" she asked.

"Thank you," the father said. "All of you. I don't want to think what would have happened if you hadn't protected my Yui."

"Raise her well," Iroh said. "I'm sure she will do you proud."

The man nodded and departed, whispering to the little girl in his arms. Azula took in the whole thing with not more than a tapping of her foot. She did look tired, as she always was after one of those spells took her, but now, more than anything, she seemed impatient. "So are we going or are we going to stand in a hovel for the rest of the winter?"

"And don't forget you promised me a ride to Bomei," Beifong pointed out.

"Bomei?" Azula said. Then, she nodded. "Ah, yes. Bomei. Well, Zuzu? Are we going or are we not?"

Zuko waved his arm toward the door, and the inhabitants of the hovel all filed out. All but Iroh himself. Zuko paused a moment before following the two girls. "Do you believe now?" Zuko asked. "That my sister is some kind of oracle?"

Iroh tugged a moment on his beard. "What I believe is far more complicated, Prince Zuko."

And with that, the Fire Nation royalty, plus one blind earthbender, began to steam up the river to the oldest Fire Nation Colony in the Northern Earth Kingdoms.

How about now?

Call it an old proclivity, but I'm of the opinion that of all of the Gaang, Toph works as the best intermediary between Team Fire and the Gaang. She's got a mercenary personality, and usually holds people to how they act rather than how stands their reputation. Dealing with Toph is engaging in a meritocracy. The other factor with Toph is that no matter what else changes in the world (and sometimes, there's quite a bit), Toph is always Toph. Just like the rocks she commands, she is reliable and stable. She's useful in a narrative sense, and fun to write besides.

I'm glad I planned all of this out, because things are going to get a bit more complex, and they don't really start to resolve until the second part of the 'season finale'. If I'd tried writing by the seat of my pants (well, more than I do even with the planning that I've got this time), it'd be a hell of a snarl by now. And that'd just be a damned shame.

Another thing I should mention now so I don't forget when it comes up later: Nila constantly bitches about her home on Sentinel Hill, how they're backwards, sexist, and ignorant. Yeah... That's her mother coming through again. Since Nila hadn't the social skills to integrate herself into the society (another failure as a mother in Sativa), she has about as much knowledge about the workings of Si Wongi courtesy and culture as I know the secrets of turning rust into gold. And when it comes to backwardsness... Well, Si Wongi create the finest stills on the planet, and she will find as she moves throughout Book 2 and the Ba Sing Se arc that in the East their scientific instruments are comparatively pathetic. It's not that I'm inconsistent. It's that the character is wrong.

Yeah, that's the story and I'm sticking to it.

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