Pakku's original intentions were still very important, of course.

The king sat with him in the audience chamber, no advisors present. Pakku was someone who would normally be one of said advisors, so it wasn't necessary. At his side sat his daughter, who kept glancing at the door. She sat quietly and made herself all but invisible, as any royal son or daughter learned to do. They talked as if she wasn't there. "How is your newest student?" the king asked. "I mean, the Avatar." Technically, Katara was Pakku's newest student.

"The Avatar's progress is poor, and it's because he's preventing himself from learning," Pakku said. "On many occasions I have seen him begin to take my training seriously and focus on what he's doing. This lasts for only a few minutes before he stops himself. The boy is willfully and deliberately making himself a poor student. And on top of that, he seems to have personal issues that he takes out on his waterbending. He glares at his water like it's an enemy. I cannot teach someone like this. After three lessons, he has yet to make a functional water circle!"

"Oh. I see." The king looked deeply troubled by this news. "But if he does not learn waterbending, he won't be able to defeat the Firelord."

"That is not my problem," Pakku retorted. "I was asked to be his teacher, and I am telling you that I cannot fulfill that role. He needs another teacher, or perhaps a visit to a spiritual healer to knock him straight."

"Tell him to pay a visit to Kalika," the king said.

Pakku shook his head. "I've spoken with Kalika, who tells me she has recently taken on an unusually challenging patient. She is not accepting any new ones at this time." Or, that was what Pakku guessed she was doing after speaking with Iroh earlier. If she wasn't, she was a fool.

The king frowned. He stared at the floor, deep in thought. "Have you given him one of your signature breakdowns of everything he is doing wrong?" the king asked.

Pakku's lips twitched upwards. "Am I hearing permission?"

"Yes. I grant you permission to break him down as thoroughly as you feel you need to. Even though I have issued consequences for it in the past. Even though he is the Avatar."

After hearing that, Pakku's mood improved considerably. He felt much lighter and freer than before. Having gotten what he needed, now he could ask for what he wanted with no fear. Anything might be possible. "My sincerest gratitude, Your Majesty," he said while bowing. He rose. "There is another matter I wished to speak with you about."

"What is it?"

"I would like to renegotiate my position within this tribe."

The king's jaw fell open. He jerked upright. "What do you mean?"

"Don't worry," Pakku said, patting the air reassuringly. "I'm too old to make any drastic changes. I have one simple idea in mind. If it works, everyone should be happy."

The king settled himself. "What's your idea?"

"I would like to train an apprentice," Pakku said. "Someone who understands the fundamentals of waterbending and can easily explain them to others. I've never liked teaching. I would rather be doing anything else with my day than supervising snot-nosed brats who refuse to apply themselves. But for now, I must, because I'm the only one in the whole tribe who can. I would like to change that as fast as possible."

The king considered this idea. "If you retire from your teaching position, what will you do?" he asked.

"We can't stay hidden away in our glacier forever. Battling that little girl reminded me of how much I love fighting. I would like to travel, see the world, lend my support to the war effort if an opportunity arises. Being cooped up in this city is dulling my mind." Pakku thought back to the last time he'd been in the Earth Kingdom. It was when Iroh was initiated. Due to the cold, dry air and the lack of Fire Nation invasions, the Northern Water Tribe was home to a great many records that did not survive anywhere else. Iroh's hunger for learning had been so vast that the Order of the White Lotus requested those records. Pakku had visited the archives, made copies, and left the Tribe to deliver them. The Iroh he met then was similar to the Iroh he had spoken with earlier, but less subdued. Back then, he couldn't keep himself from leaping into everything. If Iroh could change so much in less than a decade, maybe Pakku could too. If he wanted to. The freedom alone was encouraging.

The king nodded. "I understand," he said. "You have my permission. You may select any one of your students and begin their apprenticeship when you see fit."

Pakku bowed again, nearly touching his head to the floor. "My deepest gratitude, Your Majesty." He then stood up, thanked the king for seeing him, and left.

His dinner was nearly, but not quite, frozen solid. He started the fire to warm up his house and sat by it for a while. Then he went about his nightly routine: stretching, using waterbending to wash his clothes, hanging them over the fire to moisten the air, placing his dinner (already prepared and sealed in its pot that morning) over the fire, and finally sitting down to eat. After his dinner, he made tea. After tea, it occurred to Pakku that he might want to visit the archives again. There were some documents he ought to begin reviewing.

The archives were held below the palace. Pakku went back up the steps and entered the audience chamber. The king and princess were gone, likely to their beds. Pakku went over to the wall on his right. He walked along it until he found the minor engravings he was looking for, then used his waterbending to lower that section. Behind it was a top secret staircase leading downwards. He stepped onto the stairs, picked up a torch from the collection leaning against the wall inside, lit it with the spark rocks from his pocket, then raised the wall again. Down he went into the bowels of the Northern Water Tribe.

He met the archivist on the way up. The old man was startled and nearly fell back down the stairs. He was older even than Pakku, with a bald head and a pale face deeply lined with wrinkles. He was starting to get spectacle marks on his nose. He was weak and moved slowly, but his mind was as sure as it had ever been. "You startled me," he said. "I'm not used to visitors at such a late hour. Or, well, ever."

"I have a special need of your knowledge."

"Is there a new initiate?" the archivist asked as he went through the labor of turning around on the cramped staircase.

"No," Pakku replied. "Although it might make you happy to hear that the new initiate from so many years ago is now here, in the city. You could meet him. He has become very wise."

"Oh, I would like that very much," the archivist said. "It's easy, down here, to think that I have no impact on the world. What a change."

Pakku followed him down the steps at a sedate pace. Down here, everything was done at the archivist's speed. it was his realm, and because of that it was a slow one. Pakku much preferred it over the deranged, chaotic, unsteady pace of the young people he taught.

"I have much better news than that," he told the archivist as they descended. "Think hard. You already know what it is."

The archivist chuckled. "A mind game! I love those." He gave it his full attention. They reached the bottom of the steps and were well on their way to the archivist's work station when the old man stopped midstep and exclaimed. He whirled around as fast as his old joints could manage. "You don't mean?"

Pakku smirked. "I do mean."

"The new twospirit has arrived?"

Pakku nodded. "I believe so. A young firebender, says he came here because of a water spirit. Very troubled and secretive. He has all the signs."

The archivist put his lantern down on his desk and rushed away. He returned several minutes later dragging a sturdy wooden box behind him. Pakku doused his torch, then opened the box and carefully took out the skins stacked inside. Skins, when properly treated and stashed away in a preservative environment such as this, could last far longer than paper. Skins mummified; paper frayed. Therefore, the most important records, those deemed necessary to keep for centuries, were tattooed onto them. Pakku laid the skins out in rows before him and read them by the light of the archivist's lantern.

"I can't stay up too late," he told the archivist. "I'll leave most of these for another night. I think for tonight, I would like to study this one." He chose a skin that described the life of another fire-water twospirit, approximately 800 years in the past.

"How marvelous," the archivist exclaimed. "I never thought I would live long enough to see it. I knew it had been about 200 years since the last one, but I didn't dare hope." He carefully sat down next to Pakku. "Why do you need to study them?"

"Because," Pakku muttered as he read, "this one's in trouble."

"What?!"

Pakku sighed. The archivist had lived a gentle, scholarly life. He'd never fought in the war. He didn't understand. Pakku read his chosen skin, which covered the early life of the long-ago twospirit, twice over. This one had also been born into a high-ranking position close to the royal court, though his situation was not nearly as complicated as being the crown prince. Rather, he had been friends with the crown prince. He'd been on track to enter an honored position as chief dragon scholar and something of a diplomat between the Fire Country (as it was then called) and the dragons. But at the last moment, he faltered. He went to his friend at the house of the Firelord and broke down, admitting in front of the entire royal family that he couldn't devote his life to the original masters of fire. Because, he told them, there was a water spirit in the way.

Pakku put it down and selected another skin, one which went on to describe the training of the same twospirit. "We're at war with the Fire Nation," he told the archivist. "Firebenders are not welcome. If anyone besides us discovers that he is one, he'll be in grave trouble. Unfortunately, there are people that suspect he is a firebender. If they get evidence for it, they'll move to have him expelled from the Northern Water Tribe or locked in prison." He read the next skin, hoping that this one would contain clues he could use to help Zuko. What he read there made his stomach drop. This past twospirit had lived in a time before the Water Tribes had come together and settled down in permanent cities. His training consisted of moving to their general region, talking with waterbenders, and then living by himself for extended periods of time using waterbending to survive. Getting in touch with water the direct way. Pakku had already had a vague memory, from when he first learned about twospirits, that this was the kind of experience they needed. Reading it again solidified his mind. He could not allow Ola or any other human being to discover where Zuko was going when he left the city.

"Can anyone do that?" the archivist asked. "They are very powerful."

"When fully trained, they are. But he just got here. He's barely begun his training." Pakku reread both skins again. He sighed. Everything he read affirmed that Zuko was on the right track. It told him nothing about what to do if someone should try to interfere with that track. 800 years ago, there was no war and the upper echelons of society, the leaders and lawmakers and such, had more knowledge of spiritual matters. After his breakdown, the long-ago twospirit (whose name had been lost) and his friend the prince went on a quest of discovery, consulting archives like this one, where they learned about twospirits. Then he was sent off to realize his destiny as one. Simple. It was very similar to what happened after an Avatar was confirmed. Nobody in those days would have dared interfere. Anyone with the power to would have known what they were interfering with. Pakku was on his own.

He placed the skins back in their box in the same order that they had been in before. "I will come back to read the rest of these," he said. "But I suspect I'm on my own."

"There have been times of war before," the archivist reassured him. "You can always find a story from the past that explains the present, if you look hard enough."

Pakku took a deep breath. "You know how history works better than I do," he acknowledged. "I will trust your faith in it."

"I could do my own research," the archivist said. "In that box, and elsewhere. See if I can find anything." He put his hands on the floor and pushed himself up. With much creaking, and groaning, and popping, he stood. "Come anytime, Pakku. I always make time for a friend."

"I'm starting to think I should do the same." Pakku gave the archivist a hug. Then, after making proper thanks, he left.

His sleep that night was untroubled by canyons of any sort. Instead, he had a dream that he was helping dragons build a boat to explore a newly discovered land.

.

"Sokka, are you okay?"

Sokka removed his fingernails from his teeth. "Yeah, I'm fine, why do you ask?" He resumed chewing on them with beaverlike intensity.

Katara gave him a flat look. "Really?"

Sokka lowered his hands again. "It's Princess Yue. Again. But not like the other times." He began to pace. "She told me this morning that we can be together. But she's a princess, which means I can't just casually date her. I would have to marry her. I would have to become a prince. I…I don't think I want that."

"How soon do you have to answer her?" Aang asked.

"I was supposed to meet her at the palace this evening. But I didn't go. I wasn't ready." He sat down and wrapped his arms around his knees. "I'm a coward."

"You're not a coward," Katara said, kneeling and putting a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Anyone would hesitate to get married so young."

"But I do like her," Sokka said. "I just don't want to get so serious about it."

"Is that your only choice?" Aang said. "Marry her or give up? That's not fair!"

"She's already engaged," Sokka added. "It's an arranged marriage. The king would consider revising the arrangement so it's me instead of the other guy, but he's not going to break it entirely."

"Oh no. I'm so sorry," Katara said.

Sokka grunted and flopped backward to stare at the ceiling. "Why'd I have to fall for a princess?"

"You just have to do what you feel is right," Katara told him. "Follow your heart."

Sokka watched the shadows play along the ceiling. He closed his eyes and listened to his heart as hard as he could. He opened them and sat up. "Okay. I'm ready. I'll go to the palace now. Maybe I can still catch her." With Katara and Aang cheering him on, he held himself tall and went out the door.

He ran up the stairs. By the time he reached the palace entryway, he was out of breath. The guards stared at him, and he couldn't explain why he was there. Sokka stood still and tried to catch his breath. "I - need to - see - Princess Yue," he gasped. He winced. The cold, dry air hurt his lungs.

"The princess has retired for the night," one of the guards said. "You can try to catch her in the morning."

Sokka groaned. "Can you at least pass a message on?" he asked. "Tell her I didn't stand her up. I just wasn't ready."

The younger of the two guards nodded automatically. The other one nudged him with the butt of his weapon. "What?" the younger one asked.

"Thanks." Sokka turned around and began the trudge home. It felt a lot longer. He really, really hoped Yue didn't think he'd purposefully ignored her. He wasn't that kind of guy.

"What'd she say?" Aang asked when he returned.

Sokka shook his head.

"Was it bad?" Katara whispered.

"No. She just wasn't there. She'd already gone to bed." Sokka sat down. "I'll try to catch her in the morning."

The others sat down, too. Food was distributed. "Wanna hear how waterbending training's going?" Aang asked.

"Tell me. it's got to be going better than this."

"I haven't made a perfect circle yet," Aang said. "But Master Pakku showed me a new move anyway. It's called the water serpent." He stood up, borrowed a small amount of water from Katara's flask, and guided it around the room in a thin stream that wound up and down like a sea serpent.

"I've already mastered the serpent," Katara said. "I can't wait to see what he's going to show us next."

.

Katara wished she could reach back in time and take those words from her mouth as she stood in the training grounds the next morning, helpless to interrupt the verbal assault Master Pakku was raining down on poor Aang.

Her gut dropped when it began, when, with the whole class gathered and ready to start, he said, "Avatar. Before we begin, I have a few words of advice for you." The squeaks and gasps that came from the other students - only two of them that morning - didn't help. The other boys huddled together and backed away. Momo looked around, flattened his ears along his back and flew away.

Aang put on his brave face. "I'm ready. What is it?"

"You are unteachable," Pakku told him.

Aang's jaw dropped open and he began to splutter out a response. Pakku held up a hand. "Stop your blubbering and listen for once." He walked right up to Aang. "You, Avatar, have committed the worst crime any student can commit. You are deliberately trying not to learn."

"What?!" Aang yelped.

"Don't think I haven't noticed your attempts to ruin your own concentration, to relax at the exact time you should be putting in effort," Pakku snapped. "You have a halfway decent student buried inside you and you refuse to let it out. Your friend there went to great effort just to win a place in this class. You had a spot in my class handed to you, and you don't even want it."

"That's not true! I do want to learn waterbending! I really, really do!"

"No," Master Pakku said, "you don't. Not nearly as much as you want something to take your anger out on."

"I'm not angry."

"Yes you are. You spend every lesson glaring at the water like it's your enemy. You choke off its flow like you're trying to strangle it." Pakku turned away. "This is not a class on how to beat up your enemies. Waterbending is a sacred spiritual practice of the Water Tribes. If you have no interest in that, then stop wasting my time." He turned his head back in Aang's direction. "Brush up on your firebending instead. That seems more your style." Then he walked away.

Katara and the other boys all cringed sympathetically. Aang was speechless. With a shiver, Katara forced herself to walk forward. She put a hand on Aang's shoulder. "Go, Aang. Tell him he's wrong."

"I don't think he is."

Katara's mouth fell open. She stared at him. No. She couldn't believe it. Not about Aang. He wasn't some rageaholic… Her memories of recent nights intruded. The way he turned and snapped at her. Suddenly, she could believe it. Was Master Pakku right?

"Have fun learning," Aang muttered. He shrugged her off and turned around. "I need to think about stuff for a while." Katara watched him go back down the stairs, his head bowed, until he disappeared from her view.

"Now then." She turned back around and saw Master Pakku standing just like he did before every class, showing no guilt or remorse. "Are the rest of you interested in learning? Then let's begin."

Katara was too shocked to do anything else, so she went along with the rest of the class. She understood now why the others were frightened of Master Pakku. Their reluctance to ask him any questions, even when they were obviously struggling, had seemed to her extreme. Now she knew just how terrible Master Pakku's way with words could be.

It was all the more terrible because he was right. Katara tried to blame Zuko, as she had before. But they hadn't seen Zuko for several days, and not once since waterbending training began. Aang had a real problem, one that Zuko couldn't be blamed for. Her hands started to shake again. If he didn't learn waterbending, the whole world could be in jeopardy. Something had to be done, and fast.

Katara practiced what she saw Master Pakku doing, but she didn't hear a word he said. Her mind was too busy whittling away at the problem. What was wrong, and how to fix it? Her mind churned and churned, but the possibilities she saw were few and not very good.

Still she kept thinking. She had to.