Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar or anything associated with it except my fanfiction
Katara yawned, stretched, and sighed. Then she opened her eyes and groaned.
She had not meant to pass out. Yes, she might not have been entirely well, but at the same time, she had not felt tired in the slightest. As soon as Aang left, the last thing she remembered was the soft thump of a pillow.
But at least she had been dreamless. She thought. With how fuzzy her fever dream had been, she did not trust her senses entirely - let alone her memory.
Her memory... she frowned as she delved deeper into her mind. Strange. She barely remembered anything. What happened? She had been out shopping... but then everything after that was blurred. She remembered being angry at something, alarmed. She remembered fights... but beyond that, nothing.
The fever must have taken even more of a toll than she thought.
She kicked off the blanket before cursing at her thoughtlessness. A more disheveled bed meant more pains to set it. Bad enough that she was in poor condition. More work would only make it worse.
But she set the bed. It took much out of her body, but she managed it. Briefly, she ran an appreciative hand down the soft warm fur of the polar-bear-dog skin blanket. The blankets of Ba Sing Se were very well designed for the warm weather, thin enough to not overheat in the morning, thick enough to keep the night's cool at bay. But in the end, nothing beat home.
She sighed as she surveyed her handiwork. It was off a little, on the left corner. But it was good enough, in her condition. Besides, if it really bothered her, she would fix it.
She went to leave the room, but a nagging voice whispered in her head. Messy. Disorganized. Filthy. Lazy. It looks terrible. Go fix it. Now.
The voice sounded strange, like one she had just become accustomed to after a short period of time. It was a distinctly female voice that Katara couldn't quite put a finger on, but whatever it was made her tense, almost as though it was a thing of enmity, as though it attempted to
She wasn't sure why, but something about it set her on edge. Was it from its insistence as it simpered Katara into insanity?
She shook off the thought, only for it to return with a greater force. Fix. It. Grimacing, she doubled back for the bed, redoing the blanket until the voice went away.
As she left the room, she thought she could hear the voice purring.
"You're awake," her Dad said pleasantly. He was sipping from a mug, getting up from the meal rug to fill a mug for Katara.
Katara nodded. "Thanks, Dad. Good..." She hesitated. Thankfully, Dad understood her, and knew why she had trailed off.
"It's almost evening. But a 'good morning' would have been perfectly fine, you know."
Katara stifled a smile. Hakoda smiled amusedly.
"You look just like your mom."
She snorted. "I wonder why." No matter when someone in the family would wake up, whenever Hakoda would first see them, he would always wish them a "good morning," whether it was really morning, or the middle of the night when he would be woken up by his excited children, or even when the sun was close to setting. It was something that Katara distinctly remembered her mother getting exasperated at, every time it happened.
"I suppose it can't be because you're related to her in any way."
"Dad."
"Sorry. Not my best one. But it got you smiling." He was right. It didn't matter how bad the humor was - something about them always lifted her spirits. As long as they were told by her dad, of course. Aang's... she could tolerate. At least he somewhat acquired her dad's sense of humor. She wished she could have said the same for her brother, but having had the years of experience of bearing Sokka, there was no such luck.
"I can't really remember the past few days." Such a good transition, she chided herself. But things had clearly happened - her dad almost looke haggled, like he had been fighting off a pack of wolves. She could see lines of age - more than she could ever have fathomed - spread like tendrils from the eyes, meshed on his forehead, his cheeks sagging. Age was not a kind benefactor, but even still it did not explain away the weights of the spirits on Hakoda's shoulders. Perhaps it was not a good idea to burden her father further, but... she needed to unburden herself.
And her father could follow suit.
"I suspect as much... things have been mighty strange. I wish I could say different about home. But..." Hakoda sighed.
"I can see," Katara affirmed dryly. "I will admit, you look more like Gran-Gran every passing visit!"
Hakoda smiled wanly. "I suppose so. I'm sorry she is not here to receive you. Pakku has gone to the North to bring tidings of the South, and Gran-Gran... well. She said something along the lines of 'These old bones wouldn't mind standing on the prow of a ship alongside you.'"
"That's so sweet!" If Katara had the energy, she would have clasped her hands together in excitement.
But Hakoda wasn't done. "Well, it was certainly a sweet argument they had... I'll tell you that. It was honestly quite funny, watching Pakku try to argue with her to stay. I don't think he's ever had to resolve an argument without bending in a good few winters! And you know your Gran-Gran - she's the reason we still have this home!"
She grinned. "Makes sense." Pakku's soaking rebuttals against his slacking pupils at the north were never quite matched by anything except the dryness of his retorts - both of which seemed to recede away whenever the issue at hand changed from disappointing students to Kanna.
"But speaking of home..."
Hakoda's smile faded. "Yes. Home." Setting his cup down, he settled down to the floor, patted the rug left of him, and sighed.
Katara, taking her cue, snuggled in next to him. The smell of her dad was a welcome scent, especially welcome as she finally realized she did not smell war on him. Perhaps, after all, society could move onwards from whatever calamity had destroyed it.
But then she noticed the other smells. Or rather, the lack of them. The saltiness of the sea, once so powerfully moving, was now simply present, a shadow of its former dominance. Perhaps this was not noteworthy in and of itself, as it seemed that perhaps Wolf's Cove had progressed to a point where more apparent leadership was needed. But even then, instead of simply fading, the smells seemed to faint, to pine. As though something was insidiously corrupting it, inside out, giving an air of decay.
She pulled back.
Hakoda clasped her hand. "Is everything alright?"
She sighed. "Dad. I have a feeling that whatever I'm feeling can't be as bad as what you're hiding from me."
He frowned. "It's not quite that bad -"
"Spill."
Hakoda groaned. "Just like your mother, you are."
Katara put her hands to her hips, though she couldn't help smirking in triumph. "Try me."
The same sad, fleeting smile as before. "Very well." His eyes flickered tiredly to the floor. "Do you remember the government we had so excitedly erected? The one that promised so much for the future of our people, where everyone was able to decide on the leaders and decisions that would shape our nation?"
Somehow, the air seemed chillier than before.
"What happened? It seemed like it would be a successful proposal - did the theory not work out?"
He grimaced. "Something like that... Some characters have become elected, that are very much... as active as a hibernating polar bear, so to speak. Not that that is always necessarily bad, but... ah. Redundant words. But as I was saying, it would not be so bad if the reconstruction wasn't so new that action needs to be chosen and committed to very frequently. And that it should reflect the people's wishes."
"So then..." Katara almost did not want to hear what was next. But some evils had to be faced, no matter how reprehensible, if to understand what had gone wrong and try to fix the problem.
"Yes. The people are unhappy, their wishes unheard of. Somehow, these Council Members have been... instated ever since. I am still Chieftain, but in name only. And even that, I have no idea how much is their doing... the people don't come to me anymore. I don't blame them. The problem is, they seek solutions elsewhere... ones not so calm and ordered."
"The South is in turmoil? Does that mean... a civil war?"
Hakoda shook his head. "Not yet, at least. If only the Council Members listen. But they do not want to try to make amends, and I am not sure why. Lately, I have been trying to show reason to them, but they refuse to take it. It - never mind. The point is that things need a little looking over here, and if it weren't for Azula, I probably would have sent for Aang anyways, to try and fix the situation. The others are now aware of this... impending brouhaha, although maybe... maybe not Ty Lee."
Katara's lips quirked. Ty Lee? She vaguely remembered her joining them, for... something. "What has she been up to?"
"Oh, nothing, though I hear she's managed to turn many frowns upside-down. That is something. She knows something is afoot, but she seems to be focused more on the people than the roots of the problem - which is good, since people need some distraction, and alleviation is always helpful - but it doesn't fix the problem. Not quite."
"So it's bad here." Katara said flatly. "And you haven't said a thing."
Hakoda nodded. "I wasn't sure of a way to. The Council has many prying allies. It was by the luckiest of ideas that Pakku thought of traversing to the North Pole to try and get this issue resolved. I am certain Chief Arnook still bears a softness... and I doubt that if he is aware of such happenings, that he would let them continue. Without a reliable source, news can become quite convoluted by the time it's traveled to opposite ends of the world. And as it is... there are other nations that need help even more than we did, and I had no idea how bad the issue had become. I had pegged it safe to assume that matters had not regressed to a point where the Avatar would need to be called upon. He is in charge of the whole world, after all, so it would be wise to attempt to solve solutions ourselves when we can, when possible. Of course, that does involve actually attempting to solve the problem, instead of hiding behind a retinue of guards."
Katara bowed her head. She had remembered those long nights, trying to figure out a system that would have enough authority over the people, but that would guarantee that the power still belonged to the people. It was a novel system, one pioneered after many eurekas and crumpled parchments, and she could remember Aang's shining eyes as he beamed at her, lifted her, kissed her - all in elation for their experiment. She was just as immersed in the revelry and the toil. They had pored over the theories in their dreams, consulted sympathetic leaders for any helpful advice, even conducted research to shore up any potential flaws in their plans (Sokka, in one of his very rare moments of sense, was the strongest advocate for this: "As the one you guys have crowned as the most likely to goof up in the most imaginative way possible, I suggest we do research so that what we come up with doesn't go the same way as you guys think I have!" "There is no 'think' to it." "Shut up!")
And their idea still failed?
Katara knew it was not what she was drinking from the mug that caused the bitter taste in her mouth.
"Katara." Hakoda cupped her cheek, and angled her eyes to his. "It was a brave venture. A necessary one, I would say. This is not my world anymore - not the one I was used to, where there were days when we would be asking if there had been any catch to put on the table, or days where we would be hunting for weeks on end to resupply our skins for impending storms. And even then, we're leaving an era where we vest power into one individual. Part of that is because that is not our way - we are supposed to be a community. But at the closing of the Hundred Years War, it's become clear that even if a single vested authority can make influential decisions, the chance of a poor decision is simply so high. There are good-meaning leaders now, but... things may change in an instant. Even if what we made didn't work, it was a good start, and a promising one. I think the fact that we haven't collapsed even as a sizeable civilization is in itself a novel! So congratulate yourself on that mark, and remember - there's always room for improvement."
Katara smiled, reassure by the glowing words of her dad. "You always know what to say."
Hakoda inclined acknowledgement. "I do my very best. But I got to know Kya like a book... and you're so much like her."
Katara felt a beam of happiness that she must not have felt in a long time. "I'm very happy about that."
But then the voice returned. Empty praise does not excuse failure. Trying means nothing when you have nothing to show for it. You are a failure, and don't you ever forget that.
She must have pushed Hakoda away, because her father was standing, holding her by the waist. "Are you okay?"
"I - I think so. Something strange happened... something I can't put a finger on. Something... in my head?"
Her dad inhaled sharply. "Can you try to explain it? Do you think it's why you got sick?"
"I - I..." she growled. "That's the issue! I don't know. I can't remember why we're here. I barely remember Ty Lee coming with us. Do you know -"
"Ah." Hakoda's face darkened. "Then you are missing much. I see." He took a deep breath. "From what Aang has told me - the first of your headaches coincided with ="
"Me, perhaps." A chill ran down Katara's spine. That was why the voice was familiar, and so cacophonic. It belonged to a person - a person she had despised, a person she should have taken down. A person who wasn't supposed to be here.
A person who had materialized at their doorway, threatening all that Katara held dear.
"And I would bet you would love to take me down, before I dispose of your dear father the same way I took care of that pathetic insect of an Earth King." Azula said, with a hand that glowed brighter with every menacing step.
Katara did not have to even think about her next move.
She might not have been fully recovered, but her bending was strong enough to draw the water from the kettle and rush at Azula with a swiftly-fashioned ice dagger.
One, two, three times she swiped in quick succession. Azula, true to herself, avoided every swing - left, right, down - without even batting an eyelash. In fact, Azula showed no sign of her breakdown, looking well-kept, healthy, and almost satisfied, as though Katara had acted exactly the way she wanted. Her movements, even more fluid than the best of waterbenders, were as agile as Aang's, like she was simply toying with Katara before delivering a devastation Katara couldn't deal with. Katara grit her teeth. Sane or not, Azula would be a nightmare to deal with, and could very well give Katara a fight for her life - and her dad's.
But strangely enough, Azula hadn't retaliated. In fact, her hands lay loosely at her sides, not even helping her stabilize and gain momentum when dodging what Katara thought had been ferocious attacks. She had barely even moved her feet to evade the onslaught, merely leaning forwards and backwards and to the sides. It took an entire full-body channeling of a vicious stab to get Azula to take a new step - and instead of approaching backwards, she instead stepped to the side and swiftly wrapped an arm around her.
Katara hissed in surprise. Was Azula really that fast? Or was she just so debilitated - so shortsighted as to not anticipate such a move? She struggled to break free of the other girl's grip, and realized to her horror that she couldn't. Seeing Katara's panic, Azula grinned.
If Katara had doubted Azula's sanity, she did no more.
The grin on her face stretched impossibly wide, concealing none of her blinding teeth. It stretched almost from ear to ear, so inhumanly large it looked like it would consume the rest of Azula's face. But the worst part was the eyes - ever widening, pupils thin dots of the madness that puppeteered Azula, the gold of her eyes flashing madly, they escaped all the gesture of the mouth, the eyes devoid of inflection save for a wild spark that Katara dreaded was worse than the mirthful madness.
"A little slow of late, aren't you?"
Azula had whispered into her ear, and though her voice was as empty as her smile, Azula's words aggravated Katara even more than they had in her head.
Tui and La, she had forgotten how easily the firebending madwoman could get under her skin.
Suddenly, Azula's hand burst into flame, and Katara couldn't help but yelp when she saw just how close the flame was to her face. She wriggled and writhed as Azula leveled it at her eye, her grip ironlike as she gently guided the intense jet closer and closer to her skin. A scream bubbled from Katara's throat.
"Don't worry, I don't think Zuko screamed too loudly when father did this to him."
But just when she thought she felt the first kisses of fiery agony lick her face, when she was about to loose a shriek of misery and pain and failure - Azula had let go. Katara wasted no time in taking the opportunity, immediately shoving the girl aside and backing away, almost hitting the wall behind her. When she saw why Azula had relinquished her hold on the waterbender, she almost shouted for joy.
Hakoda had Azula pinned to the wall, a club leveled at her chest. The old wolf had awakened in the chief when he had seen his daughter in danger.
He must have seized the opportunity when he saw Azula's attention change. Great job, dad!
A swell of pride washed over her. Hakoda growled, pressing the weapon tighter against Azula. To Azula's credit, she did not flinch, though Katara did not know whether it was from Azula's bravery, self-control, or lack of either.
"Do you have any words for yourself before I deal with you for deciding to hurt my daughter?"
Azula shrugged. "In all fairness, I would never have burned her face. Even filth should not be partly burned and then cast aside. It's not healthy for the world."
Suddenly she winced. Clearly, Hakoda had tightened his grip on her. "And what is that supposed to mean? You speak almost like the Council Members."
Azula's face lit. "Is that so?" Another wince. "Apologies. I was merely curious. But I was just wondering, you know." Azula had begun talking as though they were old friends, sitting around a meal fire instead of at the mercy of Hakoda. "It's very interesting how things happen. How power and authority naturally shifts and circulates around. Until it finally rests with firm decisiveness, unanimously, ubiquitously choosing one figure to serve. One thing to call master. Don't you find that interesting?"
"You talk too much," growled Hakoda. "If I were so inclined as to a vigilante, I would end you, right here, right now, even in the sanctity of my house. But as it is, I will simply turn you in, to be rightly dealt with and for your presence to be scoured to maintain the balance of this world. Katara, go fetch some assistance. I want justice brought upon this... firebender as soon as possible, for attempted murder and assassination."
Before Katara could turn to leave, she heard Azula lazily drawl after her. "Now you wouldn't be so quick to do that, would you? There might be even more pressing things at hand. What if... the Earth King has invited you to Lake Laogai?"
Katara froze. She willed her feet to move. They wouldn't. She couldn't run; couldn't get help; couldn't even turn around to help her father. She was still, rigid; her limbs burned from the stiffness. She had no control over her body. She couldn't even move her eyes. Something had taken her over, something alien and reprehensible, and through her mounting horror, she finally realized the source of all her problems when she heard herself saying, "I would be honored to accept his invitation"
"Katara, what is going on?"
Katara could not move her mouth anymore. It was glued shut, as though someone had bloodbended her into a marionette. But her movements weren't forced; they were fluid, well-practiced. Almost natural. Even though she was stuck in the present, stuck in this body that was no longer hers, with whispers from Azula that came from the deepest recesses of her mind, she could do nothing but spectate the horror that Azula must have carefully plotted the entire time she had been put away. And that phrase... that phrase she heard from Azula. The response she had uttered against her free will.
"Well, I had planned a more elaborate entrance, but unfortunately, it seems you have rushed my hand. Absolutely senseless beasts, you are. As it is, however, I am always prepared for such unorthodox blasphemy - even the unpredictable primitiveness you love to tote all the time. It's still quite annoying to deal with."
"Katara...?"
That was... that couldn't be...
"To answer your question, dear chief, your lovely daughter has undergone a little life process I will call 're-education.' As you can see, it is not entirely complete, but she has adopted the basics very well. For example... peasant. Kill your father."
"Yes Firelord," Katara heard herself answer. Firelord? What was that title even supposed to be? Not even Firelady? It made no sense - but Katara's strong will being subjugated also made no sense, and still she silently rushed her father with the blade she had formed from earlier, already bringing her hand across to cut her Dad in two.
Hakoda had turned when he noticed the movement, shock morphing his face. "Your eyes - " was all he managed to get out before he was forced to release Azula to roll under Katara's swing.
Dad... I'm sorry, Katara silently sobbed. I didn't know...
"Look at that face. Look at those eyes. So dull and empty, just like her head once was," Azula lazily called. "But now she has a true purpose - serving her chosen master. Me. It took long enough, but this is a very lovely arrangement between the two of us, you see." Azula simply leaned against the wall she had been pressed against, boredly surveying the fruits of her labor. "It means I can give all the dirty work to my dirty servant, and watch as she commits patricide in the name of the Firelord - in my name. What glorious irony this makes for!"
Hakoda now tried reasoning with the Katara-puppet that had turned its violent intent on him. "Katara... please. I know you're in there. You must be. You must break free. I know you can do it! Just try your hardest - you were always just like your mother. Please, if you're inside there, and you can hear me..." Hakoda, though a formidable warrior in his prime, was no longer formidable nor in his prime. His movements, though imbued with the fierceness of a wolf's, lacked the natural agility and strength of youth that Katara possessed in plentiful supply, even in sickness. Though he was able to dodge and parry Katara's attacks, he was barely able to do so, and eventually the strain of battle had him panting and slowing while Katara's movements and her conditioning - to her despair - continued without a sign of stopping.
Eventually, Katara reshaped her weapon into a hook and caught Hakoda's club, sending it skittering across the ground. She had tried in vain to break free, to shatter the glass that kept her from reverting her dad's plight - but no matter how hard she pressed, no matter how much she battered at the barrier, it held with no signs of stress. She couldn't regain control - much less regain it in time to save her dad.
The blade went down.
"Freeze, peasant."
Katara obediently froze just before slitting her dad's throat. She hated it. She hated it. But she couldn't do anything but push in vain, forced to watch the worst as it would inevitably be inflicted by her own hand.
"I had almost forgot to mention... conditioning only becomes harder to break through the more strong-willed a person is. I know your son, and assume he takes his limited wit after you - unlike this servant of mine. In that case, I will give you a couple of seconds to ponder what I just said before your lovely daughter's blade tears your pathetic life from you -"
"Katara!"
The voice - young, brave, unexpected, Aang - had burst through like a flood of cleansing water. Once again a beacon to guide her, Aang's voice dispelled Azula's command - had made the voice retreat in fear - had cracked the dam that blocked her from freedom. Seizing the chance, Katara pushed - and suddenly found herself stumbling. Fortunately, the rest of her body had also faltered, allowing Hakoda to barely roll out of the way of the dropping blade as it carved a curve where Hakoda had just been held.
Immediately, Katara was greeted by the crushing embrace of the airbender, who - thankfully - did not squeeze the air out of her. Finally, she heard shouts outside - Ty Lee and Sokka, though not as fast as an airbender, had managed to catch up.
Relief had come.
Azula, now vastly outnumbered, opened her mouth. It was agape, but nowhere near as wide as her eyes, which had for the first time showed emotion. Disbelief flashed across her face, that instantaneously set into mild disdain and determination when all eyes riveted to her, a glaring Aang beginning to solidify the air to encase Azula.
"Interesting... that was not supposed to happen," Azula mused. "But it seems I have overstayed my welcome. It was rather nice to see you again, Avatar - although I did think that after everything that happened you'd shy away from me -"
Aang fired a barrage of small icicles Azula's way, which she simply breathed on. The heat from her breath vaporized the ice, and the room quickly choked with steam. Although not hot enough to burn, it created a fog that blinded them all and obscured them from Azula. It did not take Aang long to dispel the fog, especially with Katara's help. but when he finished, Azula had already disappeared.
He sprinted ahead, not bothering to check on Hakoda and Katara. Ty Lee was already there, having seen the commotion herself, and Sokka was somehow not too far behind her. Perhaps Sokka's little regimen had paid off.
But Aang had a more important fixation. With no time to lose, he made his way to the rooftops again, Azula's outline a stark contrast to the wicked blue flames trailing her across the sky.
Aang was faster, but she had a head start.
Stupid, he chided himself. Of course she was going to make steam from your water. Stupid, stupid, stupid! You could've done anything else - blast her with wind, even trapping her in an ice cage. But nooo, you toss a bunch of meltable ice her way, and one fog later, she's off in the sky!*
Sure enough, by the time he had made it to the edge of the ice, a fair distance from the docks, Azula had made it to her ship - an earth vessel encroached on the ice. As the ship slowly shook and rumbled, Azula sent out a wave of intense flames at the ice. Aang barely leapt back in time, as the sheer intensity of the heat nearly singed his eyebrows. By the time the flames had settled, all that remained of Azula and her crew was a thick screen of smoke.
They had escaped.
Aang cursed. The vessel was immense - there was no knowing how many enemies would wear him down before he could finally confront Azula. That was, if he didn't have to double back for his glider-staff to be able to catch up to them. In his haste to sprint to Azula, he had not thought that she would be far enough that the glider-staff would come in handy.
At least Hakoda was still alive. That was a victory.
But they needed to stop Azula before it was too late.