a lesson in humility
"Katara?"
Katara takes one look at her brother. At a face she hasn't seen in over two years, and her body reacts viscerally. She leaps up and pulls him roughly into her arms, burying her face into his chest. His arms circle her tightly, all but lifting her from her feet, and she feels a shaking, a tremor pass between them. With a start, she realizes that it's her.
"Who is this, Sokka?" someone demands. One of the warriors- a woman with short crop of brown hair and a face full of makeup identical to the Kyoshi statue in the town square.
Her brother pulls away, one arm still wrapped around her shoulder, as unwilling as she is to break the contact. "Suki. This is my sister, Katara."
The woman scrutinizes her, her expression obscured by the thick white foundation. "My lieutenant tells me that your sister was with this man-" a furious gesture at Aang- "who was caught defiling our Kyoshi statue."
"Defiling?" Aang protests. "I blew out some candles."
"What would possess you to openly disrespect a statue in the center of town?" Suki snaps.
Aang mumbles uncomfortably under his breath, and Katara sighs before leaping to his defense. "They have a complicated history," she says.
Suki and her warriors squint suspiciously, unable to tell if she's mocking them or not. Sokka's arm drops from her shoulders, and Aang rubs a hand at his temple.
"Katara, who is this?" Sokka asks.
She frowns. Assuming Chief Arnook sent a letter explaining her position as Aang's Waterbending Master, Sokka should already know the answer to that question. Even if the Chief didn't, she has no desire to confirm Aang's identity in front of the curious eyes of intruding civilians.
"Let's go inside," she suggests instead.
Suki gapes. "Inside where?"
"Anywhere. There," Katara suggests, pointing a finger at the nearest building. A cobbler's shop.
With frustrated grumbling and a final glare as razor-sharp as her eyeliner, Suki stomps over to the building and disappears inside. A moment later, Katara hears the squawking of the shopkeeper as the warrior ushers him out the door. "It'll be returned to you shortly," she shouts over his indignation.
"But- my customers!"
She is deaf to his protests, and the little man glowers as Sokka, Aang, and Katara file past. The rest of the warriors post at the cobbler's door. Katara can see him peering through the gap as it slams shut.
"Okay," Suki says, her patience clearly reaching its limit. "I'm humoring you because the two of you know Sokka, but if you don't start answering questions-"
"I don't know him," Sokka interrupts, nodding shortly at Aang. "Never seen him before."
Katara and Aang share a frown. "I'm Aang," he pipes up finally.
"Aang," Suki repeats. She huffs a noisy breath. "Not... Avatar Aang?"
He nods sheepishly.
Sokka eyes dart between them. "What?"
"She's teaching me Waterbending," Aang explains.
"Healing?"
The Airbender shakes his head, and Sokka gapes at Katara.
"It's a long story," she says. She's still in the middle of it, anyway, and she's not sure she wants to rehash it in a cobbler's shop with her brother she hasn't seen in two years, a complete stranger, and the person around whom her story revolves.
Sokka's eyes narrow, arms folding over a puffed out chest, and Katara is reminded of her father. Of stammering in front of the Steward about arguing with an elder, or playing with swords and spears when she eats supposed to be learning how to scrape seal hides or fillet fish. "We have time," he rumbles.
"Chief Arnook was supposed to send a letter-"
"Why didn't you send the letter?"
Katara bites her lip. "Unimportant. You didn't receive it? Dad doesn't know, either?"
"He might," Sokka admits begrudgingly. "I haven't been home since late spring."
"Then why are you making a big deal about-"
"Allow me to quickly summarize," Aang interjects.
Suki breathes a sigh of relief. "Please."
"About two years ago," he begins, "I was in the North Pole looking for a Waterbending Master. I met Katara while she was waiting to speak with Yagoda about training for healing. She, ah, mentioned an interest in learning combat, and we..." He trails off, gray eyes dart to blue. "We agreed that the North's tradition of barring women from combat was... outdated."
Suki makes a noise of agreement. Circumstances notwithstanding, Katara is starting to like this woman.
"I mentioned to Chief Arnook and Master Pakku that I thought that was a tradition that could maybe withstand a second look. Long story short-"
A snort from Katara here, and Aang shushes her irritably. Sokka watches the interaction with narrowed eyes.
"Long story short," Aang repeats, louder this time, "they agreed to let Katara train in combat. When it became clear that my duties as Avatar wouldn't wait for me to finish my own training, Master Pakku determined Katara would fill in for him, and... Well, we've been traveling around the Earth Kingdom ever since."
"And terrorizing Earth Kingdom villages along the way, I'm sure," Suki drawls. "I still don't understand your reasoning for blowing out Kyoshi's candles, but I guess the festival's technically in your honor. In an abstract way, at least." She puts one hand on her hip in a show of irritation that Katara can tell is hiding amusement. "I'll let it drop- but don't do it again," she adds with an emphatic jab of her finger.
Aang grins bashfully. "I won't."
Suki gives him a mock salute, and strides out the door with one last lingering glance at Sokka.
It takes Sokka a moment to regain his voice. "Well, this isn't the news I was expecting, but..." A grave look. "I'm proud of you, Katara. I won't say that I knew you had it in you, but I will say I can't think of anyone who could do better."
Her cheeks flood with warmth.
Sokka turns to Aang, and bows low. "Your Holiness."
The Airbender shifts uncomfortably at the gesture of respect. She can't blame him- it feels out of place. "It's nice to meet you, Sokka."
A silence descends over them, a tangible awkwardness that Katara doesn't know how to overcome.
Her brother saves her the trouble. "I've got to go back to helping with festival plans," he mutters. "But I'll come by after, Katara."
"That sounds nice."
"We weren't expecting two guests," he notes quietly, shooting another look at Aang. "They've set one room aside for your Holiness at the inn on Rangi Street." He draws in a deep breath. "Are you... Will you two be sharing-"
Aang makes a strangled noise, and Katara stops her brother's train of thought with a forceful, "No."
A sigh of relief. "I'll see you in a bit, then."
"Well," Aang says as soon as Sokka departs, "that didn't turn out how I expected."
She snorts. "Me neither."
"I really thought I could get all the candles in one go."
"You menace-"
"Excuse me," a tremulous voice interrupts. "Can I have my shop back?"
Her room is luxurious, green silks and soft cotton covering nearly every surface. It has it's own bath- marble set deep in the tile floor with gold, temperature controlled taps- and Katara sinks into it with enthusiasm, releasing an audible sigh of relief as the dirt of the road and stress of the day washes away. After her bath, she wraps herself in a soft, ankle-length silk robe and curls into the heavy armchair with a mug of jasmine tea.
She's close to dozing when a knock sounds at her door. Sokka. He enters tentatively, looking around the room as if expecting Aang to pop out from behind the four-post bed.
"He's not here," Katara says, amused.
"Good," Sokka mutters. "You're not exactly dressed for company."
"Don't spoil this for me. You might be shocked to hear that life on the road doesn't offer the opportunity for many in-suite baths."
A wry chuckle. "I'm not shocked to hear that, no."
"Just everything else?"
"It's a lot to take in," he admits. "When I left for Kyoshi Island, you were supposed to be well on your way home. Dad was planning a 'welcome back' ceremony for you. He'd ordered flowers from the southern Earth Kingdom."
Her heart flips uncomfortably. "It was as much a surprise for me as anyone."
"I can't believe you're a Waterbending Master... If Dad doesn't already know, he's going to burst with pride when he finds out."
"Thanks, Sokka," she says warmly. "And what about you? I don't remember you saying anything in your letters about leaving home. What have you been up to?"
He shrugs. "Nothing so grand as training the Avatar. I just... I don't know. I got tired of being at home. All that schooling and training in the North, and all I did when I got back was sit around on Dad's councils."
Katara nods. It sounded like Yue's prediction, her argument to convince Katara to agree to take up the mantle of Aang's instructor in the first place. "So, now you're traveling the world?"
"Acting as an ambassador for the South," he corrects, tugging at one earlobe absently. "Kyoshi Island ordered a shipment of seal pelts for this festival, and offered to host a delegate from home as part of the exchange. I hadn't left home in years, so... I leapt at the chance. I've been here for about a couple months, and things have been going really well."
"Spending a lot of time with Suki?" she asks innocently. "She seems to really value your input."
He shoots her a dry look. "I could say the same thing about you and the Avatar."
She coughs around a sip of tea. "You have no idea how wrong you are."
"Oh?"
"Until about a month or two ago, Aang and I could scarcely stand the sight of one another."
"He didn't mention that in his quick summary."
"It was during the 'long story short' part."
"But... things are fine, now?"
She looks thoughtfully out the window. "We still argue like hog-monkeys. Still disagree about routes and plans- especially about security- and what days we should train and what days we shouldn't, but... Yes, overall, things are fine, now."
It's his turn to look thoughtful, and he stares at her for a long time, long enough for her to squirm uncomfortably under his speculation. "Proud as I am, Katara, I'm not sure I like it- the two of you, traveling alone together. I don't like the way he looks at you."
"How? Like a nuisance?"
"Like he can't believe you're standing next to him."
"He probably can't," she laughs. "Like I said, until recently, it was a very different relationship. But, let me put your mind at ease. We're coming from the Southern Air Temple, and Aang's Elders determined that we should be looking for an Earthbending instructor, someone who can travel with us."
He does look somewhat mollified. "I thought Avatars stayed in one place for their training."
"So did he. His schedule is too demanding, though. One of the Elders told me it's due to the after-effects of the last few years Avatar Roku spent on the political circuit. I asked about it while we were at the Southern Air Temple," she explains.
"Well, I can't help you with his schedule," Sokka says, "but I might be able to help you with the Earthbending teacher. There's a Master in Gaoling that's willing to travel."
She makes a noise of interest, gesturing for him to continue.
"She came here for a small Earthbending tournament a month or so ago. Swept the floor with all her opponents. She used a stage name, so don't ask me her actual name, but I overheard her telling some fans that she'd be willing to travel for students worth her while." He rubs his fingers together and gives Katara a knowing look.
"Sokka, Aang and I barely have two coins to rub together. If the town wasn't paying for these rooms, we'd be sleeping outside."
He waggles his brows at her. "If His Holiness can overturn a thousand years of tradition with a 'casual mention' of revisiting it, let's see what he can do with a high price tag."
"He doesn't like when people call him that," she mutters absently.
A long, penetrating look. "I'll keep that in mind."
"Let's talk about something else," Katara says suddenly. "Tell me, how's Bato doing?"
For the duration of their stay, Katara and Aang agree to shift their Waterbending lessons to sunrise. Their days are likely to be full; already, a meeting is scheduled with Suki and Kyoshi's mayor first thing after breakfast, to hammer out the details of the festival's schedule.
In the early hours of the morning, they meet at the bottom stair of the inn. Katara snickers at the wrinkles of Aang's pillow still outlined on his face.
"Laugh it up," he grumbles. "You're lucky I showed up at all. I was seriously considering skipping it."
"I would have dragged you out of bed."
"Kicking and screaming."
She laughs again.
They pick their way down the lagoon on the outskirts of town, and wade into the water, wincing as it reaches their bare stomachs.
"We're going back to square one today," Katara says over chattering teeth. "We haven't touched fundamentals in a while, and precision control of the basics makes for precision control of advanced moves."
They sink into a familiar routine, passing a globule of water back and forth in a circle for a while until they move on to footwork and hand placement. Despite the basic nature of the lesson, they both work up a sweat by the end, and Aang sinks gratefully to his knees when she announces the lesson is over.
"Finally," he breathes, flopping backward into the sand with a sigh.
"You're getting sand all over you."
"I'll wash it off later."
They have a few minutes before they need to make their way back to the inn, so she primly sinks down beside him, allowing herself a moment of peace to lean back on her hands and let her head fall back to soak up the sunlight. She hears movement in Aang's direction, and opens one eye to look at him.
He's staring at her, mouth slightly agape like a dolt. An alarm bell sounds in her mind- dimly, she remembers Sokka's comment from the day before- but he flicks a pebble at her before she can ask him why he's looking at her like that. She dodges, and he flops back onto the sand, the moment forgotten. "I wish we could stay on this beach instead of..."
The prospect of the day ahead of them is not one she relishes, either, and she nods her agreement. "Maybe neither of us are cut out for pomp and circumstance."
"I'm glad we came, though."
"Why?"
He leans up one elbow, white grains clinging to his bare torso like a second skin. "Your brother."
She hums in response.
"You haven't spoken about him much. I thought he was in the South Pole."
"So did I."
"What's he doing here?"
"Same thing as me," she sighs, eyes closing again. "Trying to make something of himself."
"Well, if he's anything like you, he'll have the world in the palm of his hand, trembling in fear in no time."
She rolls her eyes at the flattery. "He did pass on a good lead. Said he knows of an Earthbending Master in Gaoling who's willing to move around for the right price."
Aang laughs incredulously. "And he thinks I can pay it?"
"He thinks you'll be able to convince her to join us."
"A lot of faith from someone who just met me yesterday."
"He's pretty impressed with what you accomplished on my behalf."
A raised brow, a skeptical furrow in the sky blue of his arrow. "Spoke highly of me, did you?"
"More like reassuringly," she corrects. "He was feeling protective. Says he doesn't like the way you look at me."
Aang blanches. "Spirits," he breathes. "As if I had the nerve."
She waits for the punchline, waits for a wink or a mocking twinkle in his eye, and is perplexed when it never comes. She gets up instead, brushing sand from the seat of her pants. "Come on. You're going to be late to your own party. It probably takes hours to put on all that make-up."
"I don't have to wear Kyoshi's make-up," he grumbles irritably, only realizing she's teasing when he sees the wicked curve of her smile. "Hey-"
She's still laughing as he chases her up the dunes.
"We're so excited to welcome you, your Holiness," greets the mayor of Kyoshi, Oyaji, as Katara, Aang, Sokka, and Suki file into his office. "This is our first festival since his Holiness Avatar Roku's passing, and our citizens have missed it dearly."
"I thought the festival was for Kyoshi's birthday," Katara asks, curious. "Don't you have it every year?"
A patient smile from Suki. "The community does a small yearly celebration, but with Aang stepping in to his role as the Avatar, we'll begin hosting the festival more often. Avatar Kyoshi was a fierce warrior, but she was also a patron of the arts. We hold the festival several years apart to give artists the chance to create something truly inspiring."
"I'm excited to see it."
"Yes, let's dive into the schedule," Oyaji chirps. "It's a four day festival. We'll start, of course, with the commencement ceremony in just a few short hours. Avatar Aang and I will preside, and he will ask the Spirits for a blessing."
Katara's eyes find Aang's, and she gives him a hard, teasing look. He wrinkles his nose at her. When she turns back to Oyaji, she catches Sokka all but scowling at her, and the tips of her ears go pink.
"The first day is mostly dedicated to allowing the artists and vendors time to set up and explore," the mayor is saying, "but every evening there will be a feast- Avatar Aang will bless the meal tonight, of course. The second and third days, he and our nominated warrior will be conducting their isolated commune with Kyoshi's Spirit-"
Katara sputters a protest. "Excuse me? Their what?"
Oyaji spares her an irritated glance. "For the second and third day of the festival, the Avatar retreats into the forest with a selected Kyoshi Warrior- the girls will cast votes tonight to see who among them will be honored to meet Our Lady Kyoshi and receive her blessing. They remain there for two days."
"Just the two of them?" Katara demands, and Aang makes that strange, strangled noise again.
"Now, Master Katara," Oyaji carps, "this is a spiritual ceremony. Nothing untoward-"
She waves him off. "That's not what I mean." It isn't, she insists internally, but she's still just a little too smug with the validity of her next statement. "Avatar Aang has recently undergone two very credible attempts on his life. As his personal guard, I can't condone leaving him alone in a forest with a single warrior for two days. No matter how capable that warrior is."
Aang grumbles a protest, but Suki merely lifts a perfectly stenciled brow. Katara likes her, really, but she finds herself seething at the obvious undercurrent of amusement on the woman's face. "But, Master Katara, isn't that what the two of you do on a regular basis?"
"That's different-"
Suki grins wickedly, and Katara resists the urge to wipe off one sharp wing of black eyeliner with her sleeve.
"How about a compromise, if I may, Oyaji," Sokka suggests. "The Kyoshi Warriors select their representative, and then a detail of the Warriors could surround the area in which his Holiness will do his commune. That way the sanctity of the ceremony is preserved, as well as the Avatar's security."
It's an elegant solution. Katara hates it. When she opens her mouth to protest, Sokka silences her with a withering look.
Aang watches the exchange warily. "Sokka's idea will work," he mutters. "It'll be okay, Katara."
"Of course it will," she snaps.
When Sokka nods his thanks to Aang, she crosses her arm over her chest.
Oyaji beams in spite of her. "Then it's decided. Let the festival commence!"
Katara is still grumbling as Aang finishes blessing the festival. He has his Avatar face back on- that blank, winning smile and the perfect response for every question, every greeting. He'll be exhausted tonight, she's sure of it.
She follows a few paces behind as he makes his way through the crowd, his smile still plastered on even as greedy hands reach for him, grab at him a little too forcefully. The crowd draws back somewhat when they see Katara at his elbow with a grimace like a thunder cloud. He gives her a wry look at her foul mood, but she can tell he's secretly grateful for the space to breathe.
The day passes in miserable increments in the shadow of his footsteps. Her attention is pulled every which way. The festival is packed, and she feels a creeping sensation, starting in her stomach and crawling upward. It sends static running through her brain. She doesn't realize just how tense she is until she notices a vendor whispering in Aang's ear.
When the vendor whisks away into his tent, she stomps over to Aang. "What did he want?"
"To know why you look like a gathering storm cloud," Aang teases. "Relax a little, won't you? For me."
It's only because she knows he hates this even more than she does that she reluctantly agrees. The vendor returns, slips something into Aang's hand, and she forces a fake smile that feels like cracking granite.
Before long, they're sitting at the high table at the end of the feast, their plates wiped clean, watching with the crowd as the Kyoshi Warriors cast little golden tokens into wooden bowls to select their champion. Katara doesn't know much about the Kyoshi Warriors, but she's still unsurprised when Oyaji excitedly calls Suki's name. The warrior respectfully drops to her knees as he crowns her with a gold circlet that once belonged to Kyoshi (according to Aang's whispered explanation), and then- to her dread and relief- the evening is over.
She drags Aang back to the inn, her frazzled nerves after the day's trials combined with her awareness of tomorrow's sending her mood spiraling. Aang eyes her, perplexed, as she drops him off at his room like a mother dropping off an errant child, but she doesn't spare him a backward glance. Instead, she dashes to her own suite, slides down against the back of the door to catch her breath.
"A bath," she resolves suddenly. That should help.
She is just lowering herself into the steaming water when there is a knock on the door.
A wretched scowl at the unfortunate timing. She tosses on the green silk robe and whips the door open."What?"
It's Aang, and at the sight of her robe, the tips of his ears go pink. "I can come back later."
"You should be asleep. What do you want?"
"Well, that- I-" he stammers lamely. "I don't know. You just seem on edge. I came to check on you."
A blank stare. She doesn't know how to answer that, and while she's searching for an appropriate response, she becomes a little too aware that she's standing in a hallway naked save for a robe. "Just come in," she orders, dragging him into her room by the front of his shirt and slamming the door shut behind him.
Once inside, Aang picks uncomfortably at his hem, standing in front of her door in complete silence.
"Now you don't have anything to say?" Katara snarks, crossing her arms.
He mutters something under his breath.
"What was that?"
"I said that I don't think your brother will like that I'm in here alone with you while you're in your robe."
She snorts derisively, unwilling to admit that Aang is absolutely correct. She won't tell him, of course. Her fuse is short- the upcoming ceremony a damper on her ability to think rationally. "You're worried about propriety?"
He glares at her in indignation. "The communing ceremony isn't like that, Katara. Spirits, though, could you imagine if it was? Your brother actually believing I'm... with his sister and his..." A shudder passes through him.
"He knows there's nothing happening here," she snaps, waving a hand between them. "As for the second part- who can say, after tomorrow?"
His brows raise in a flash of clarity. She can practically see the realization materialize in his brain. "Katara, you- you're not jealous, are you?"
Of course she isn't. "That's absurd."
"I don't know," he defends. "It's how you're acting."
"I'm the only one around here making any sense. You're about to go into the woods undefended save for some girl-"
"Katara, you're being ridiculous. You like Suki, I can tell-"
"Get out," Katara says suddenly, whipping open her door and pushing against his firm chest to shove him backward through the frame. They battle back and forth for a moment, her snarling and him shaking with antagonizing laughter. "Get out, you goon. Leave me in peace."
He's still grinning like a dolt when she slams the door in his face.
She sleeps horribly that night, thoughts of burning fires and blazing knives chasing her into waking at hourly intervals. When she stomps down to breakfast, she is acutely aware of the dark circles under her eyes. She practically bares her teeth at Suki's wry smirk and Sokka's troubled expression.
Aang's blessing isn't as eloquent as yesterday's- though, she supposes that if she were in a better mood, she would cut him some slack. It's probably hard to give two speeches about the same thing, two days in a row. But, surely it doesn't help that half his focus is caught up with giving her teasing looks, waggling his brows at her when he's supposed to be begging for the good will of the Spirits.
It ends quickly, and then he's off, Suki walking beside him. For once, the warrior looks nervous. It doesn't inspire much confidence for Katara as she watches them disappear into the woods, and her fingers drum restlessly on the table to spite the feeling in her chest. Sokka joins her, looking as irritable as she feels.
If it wasn't for him, she might have convinced them to abandon this charade. It's childish- impulsive, she knows- but she pushes intuitively at the button she knows will bother him the most. "This is your fault, you know," she hisses.
"It's their sacred ceremony," he snaps back. "My feelings- and yours- are irrelevant."
"So you do have feelings about it."
"Spirits' sake, Katara, I don't remember you being this annoying."
She tosses her hair. "You're just upset because now I fight back."
His scowl shifts to a grin, and then he's reaching out, rustling her hair like he used to when they were little. "Nah. Now you're more fun to talk to."
She shoots him a wicked grin to match, and they spend the rest of the day in each other's company. They've been apart nearly four years; his tenure in the North Pole ended shortly before it was Katara's own time. They swap stories and plans and revel in relearning the fabric of the person they grew up with.
He's furious, mouth agape and brows furrowed with anger, at her quiet recounting of her treatment at the Northerners' hands- at the price she paid to learn combat. Katara is sworn to secrecy before he admits that he and Princess Yue very thoroughly explored the boundaries of the term 'appropriate relationship'. She's shocked; Yue never so much as breathed a word of it.
"It wouldn't have worked, anyway," he sighs wistfully. "I didn't want to stay, and she'd never go south. But, Spirits, she's wonderful."
Katara hums her agreement. In the tumult of the past few months, she hasn't written or received many letters from the Northern Princess, but she misses Yue all the same.
"There's a Tribal meeting up there soon," Sokka notes thoughtfully. "I wonder..." He shakes his head, a return from the mire of his thoughts. "What about you guys? Where are you going after this?"
"Probably Gaoling," Katara says, leaning back against the wooden table they're sitting at. "I told Aang about your Earthbending lead, and he agreed we should look into it. You should stay with us until you until you head north." She nudges playfully at his crossed arms. "If Suki can spare you, that is."
Sokka nods, grinning at the idea.
Spending time with him soothes the jarring discomfort of Aang's departure, but even with Sokka's pleasant company, she is eventually forced to admit the truth. She misses Aang.
The two days are agony, a lesson in patience, and Katara feels hers wearing thinner and thinner until finally, late in the afternoon on the third day of the festival, Aang, Suki, and the warriors reemerge from the woods. She frowns at the incandescent look on Suki's face, and it's with more than a little relief that she notes that Aang looks the same as ever. Healthy and whole, with that roguish light to his eyes.
Well, save for one noticeable change. He hasn't shaved in two days, and his head and chin are covered in a shadow of coarse black hair.
Katara meets him at the edge of the forest. A few feet away, Suki and Sokka do the same, and she flushes at the parallel. "Well," she demands, brusque. "How was it?"
"The most amazing thing I've ever experienced," Suki sighs dreamily. Sokka openly scowls at Aang.
Katara turns to him, too, crossing her arms over her chest. "And you?"
He laughs, spreads his hands helplessly. "I don't remember any of it. We walked into the woods, I summoned Kyoshi, and then I woke up about thirty minutes ago."
There's no lie in his eyes, and she finds her foul temper somewhat mollified. "Let's go back to the inn." She sniffs the air, nose wrinkling in distaste. "You stink."
Katara is leaning against the desk in Aang's room as he stares into the vanity mirror. He's cleaner now, his head shaven again, but he's embroiled in a bitter internal debate that, apparently, requires Katara's honest input.
"I'm not sure," he mutters for the sixth time, turning his head back and forth to stare at his jawline. "What do you think? Keep the beard, or shave it?"
"Hmm, I just don't know. It's such a tough decision."
He chuckles at her sarcasm. "While you're mulling it over, you can tell me what you got up to while I was away. Flower crowns? Basket weaving?"
"I already know how to weave baskets."
"What? You do? And you've been letting me carry our food in a scarf tied off to a stick this whole time?"
She's laughs begrudgingly despite herself, and he goes back to scrutinizing his reflection in the mirror.
After a while, he frowns and turns away to lean against the desk, too. His shoulder brushes hers. When she frowns at the feeling- that sharp shock of contact- and he mistakes it for a glare.
"I know, I know," he sighs. "I'll get rid of it."
"What?" she asks, confused, until she realizes he's talking about the stupid beard again.
His hand goes to his face self-consciously. "I just don't think I can pull it off."
"Well, you're supposed to use a razor-"
He tugs at her hair, and receives a flick on the forehead in response. A battle ensues, only coming to an abrupt halt when he sweeps her up like he's going to toss her onto the floor, and they both realize she is cradled in his arms. He sets her down quickly. Open and closes his mouth like he's searching for something to say.
"I have something for you," he announces finally, rustling in his pocket for a moment, holds his hand out to her. Four little jade beads are nestled in the center of his palm. "The vendor told me people from the Southern Water Tribe sometimes put these in their hair. I saw them and I thought- well, I thought you'd like them."
Her heart is racing, memories unfolding. Her mother used to wear them, before she died, and all the women who raised her wear them still. She left them behind when she sailed north in the hopes she wouldn't stand out too much. A flicker of irritation at how well that worked.
He's still staring at her, and she doesn't know how to express the sudden, overwhelming rush of gratitude. She gives him a brisk nod, and he tips the beads into her hand.
"You like them?"
"Thank you," she whispers. It's too much- like there's not enough space in her chest, in her throat, on her tongue, to fit all the things she'd like to say.
She could fight it. Force the words to cooperate. She runs, instead. "I have to go." Her hand shuts, squeezes the beads tight in her palm, and then she's all but fleeing out the door.
The last day of the festival. His speech is brief. This time, the looks he gives her aren't teasing. They're concerned. Perplexed.
She doesn't have time to dwell on it; as soon as his speech ends, Sokka asks for her help with settling a dispute between two vendors- one that's rapidly getting out of hand- and Oyaji pulls Aang away to sample some breakfast pastries.
The dispute between the two vendors is stupid- astronomically so. The accidental use of a table, and the ensuing argument nearly comes to blows. She's at her wits' end, about to call the Kyoshi Warriors to kick both men out of the festival, when she notices movement out of the corner of her eye. There, and there- and there, too- people all around the fairground turning suddenly, almost in unison, and moving towards Aang's unprotected back with a single-mindedness that terrifies her.
She shouts for him, but if he hears her, she doesn't know, because six attackers materialize in front her. Sokka springs into action, his club flickering in and out sight with resounding cracks that would have her flinching if she weren't already embroiled in her own fight, dodging knives as long as her forearm.
Her mind empties. Pakku taught ferocity, Pakku taught precision. She uses both unerringly, swinging thick arms of water pulled from a nearby rain barrel. They spiral outward in a flash, sending her assailants to their knees with the wind knocked from their lungs, and she uses the stolen moment to search wildly for Aang. All around, pockets of attackers are being subdued by Kyoshi Warriors, but a large concentration of them circle Aang. Suki fights beside him, fans swinging in lethal arcs and dropping enemies left and right. Aang is holding his own, eyes fierce and flashing, but neither of them can see the pair sneaking silently in the grass beside them, knives like needlepoints held steady in their hands. Katara leaps to them, molding her water like a guillotine. There is an opening- a split second, the blink of an eye- and she sends a blade of water, razor sharp and six feet wide, at the two assailants.
The sound is indescribable.
It hits her. Pakku taught ferocity. Pakku taught precision. He didn't spend much time on restraint, and Katara didn't show any. Two bodies lay on the ground, unmoving, rivulets of sticky red blood reaching toward her like greedy hands.
Two people. She just killed two people. She tries not vomit.
All movement stops abruptly, until a fierce looking man with a scar above his brow and a katana in one hand bows mockingly to Aang. "The Red Lotus will be waiting," he hisses, and then he turns on one foot and disappears into the forest.
Suki gives chase immediately, and Katara knows she should be on the warrior's heels, but she can't move. Her feet are frozen.
She always wondered how she'd fare in a real fight. Now, she has her answer. Breathing is suddenly hard, like her lungs can't get enough air. She feels dizzy, and seconds later her knees hit the ground.
Hands cup her face.
"Are you alright?" Aang asks, pleading. "Katara, are you okay?" His voice climbs with panic. His hands leave her face to search for a wound he won't find.
He jumps in surprise when she lunges for him, seeking comfort like a child. Not weeping, not speaking, just holding on to him, her relief and despair pouring into every quaking breath as he finally, slowly, enfolds her in his arms.