Part 5 Chapter 2 – The Trees of the Mind are Black. The Light is Blue
A/n: At this time Katara is 21, Zuko is 23, Kiyi is 10, and Yuze is 5. It is 3 years since Zuko became Firelord and 1 year since the events of White Light (Part 3).
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Katara exhaled and felt her control over the water strengthen as she focused. Zuko, across the training room, readied himself and the audience watched silently for them to begin. She struck first, driving a spear of ice at an angle down to his shoulder. Fire split it apart and the resulting gust blew flurries back into her face, making her squint against it. The water was too broken apart and she had to recollect it, during which time he struck an offence directly towards her of swirling flame. She dodged away from it, blocking the closer part with her water, and steam clouded the atmosphere of the contained dimly-lit room. From above she rained down ice daggers which met a ceiling of flame, but she gathered the evaporate for a second round while Zuko, thinking he was safe to attack, wasn't looking there but instead preparing for his own next attack. The fire he summoned sputtered out and he gasped as the ice-cold water splashed across the crown of his head.
Jeong Jeong groaned and shouted at him, "You have eyes—use them! All you have to do is keep track of the water and you can't manage that? The girl will win at this rate."
She huffed and considered giving him a bath with the spare water. Zuko, however, didn't look like he would leave her any such leisure time as he pushed forward aggressively at the prompting of his teacher. Katara jumped backwards as flames swept the floor, then made a second leap onto an ice platform and boosted herself up. In the air she pulled on that block of ice and rammed it towards Zuko, which gave her time to land. Instead of blasting it apart with fire as she thought he would, he kicked the ice aside by swinging its own momentum and followed immediately with flames while her own supply flew in the other direction from her control.
She took the reserve and blocked but was pushed back three yards by the force. Fractures spread and the ice thinned to transparency by the time the flame relented, having barely held up remaining thin as glass. To get a breather she shot the remainder at him as daggers and ran to pick up the fractured ice from earlier, grasped it while still in a run, and flung it at him. No sooner had he blocked the first part than he had to contend with the second. From that distance he had too much warning, however, and turned aside to let it pass him by. He lunged into a forward strike. Katara was caught with no reserve remaining and put her hands in front of her face. The flames flowed harmlessly to either side of her hair and shoulders, warming her cheeks with the impress of sunbathing and bonfires.
We each have one point. Jeong Jeong bounced his foot.
She was allowed to return to start with her water amount and the two squared up to finish the tie-break. When the cue was called she formed a large but hollow sphere in front of her, keeping the rest hidden behind her back, and froze it, pushing forward with her left while her right controlled the second part of the volume. Zuko broke it with a line of fire but, not realizing it was thin and hollow, it burst apart without substance just as she used the rest to freeze his feet to the ground. Off balance, he fell forward with one hand on the ground. She leapt towards him retaking what she could from the chips of ice in the air, enough to form a small blade, and slashed down just as he, from three points of ground contact, used his other hand to punch up with flame.
She twisted out of the way, stumbled, and he caught her wrist in his hand, safely holding the ice-blade aside as the flames dissipated around the pair. They caught their breath as she melted his legs released.
Jeong Jeong stood up. "Mutual loss. She could have severed your legs if she wanted. It wouldn't be lethal, but you wouldn't be firebending anymore like that. Meanwhile he could have burned your hand clean off your wrist in that hold."
Zuko muttered, "Most people call that a tie."
Katara took a moment to tidy up the dispersed water and stream it back to the storage barrel. When she went to rejoin Zuko she found him gone and Iroh instead waiting for her. His hair, previously grey, was becoming streaked in white which created a streak running through the topknot like milk poured into a stream's current. "My nephew has been seized for an urgent practice session with his rather strict teacher. I will spare your ears to hear what was said, but he wasn't impressed with today's performance." He offered her back the spirit water vial he'd been holding onto for the session and she laced it over her neck and tucked it beneath the red garment. The two walked to the garden. "Zuko seems off lately. Do you know what might be bothering him?"
"He holds back during practice sessions, though I don't know why. I saw him against his father and that was three years ago. If Jeong Jeong had seen him that day, he'd be impressed enough for a lifetime."
His walking stride was labored and stiff. He'd recovered enough to no longer always need a support device, but, at his age, there was only so much he could reclaim. "He had a lot of pent-up anger towards his father. I thought having seen the masters that he would no longer rely on emotion, but perhaps he isn't aware he's doing so. He seems weakest when fighting against you. Not that I mean he is looking down on you, just that, of all people, he would never look at you in anger. Perhaps that's the reason. Against his new teacher he does just fine in their one-on-one sessions, but that only makes Jeong Jeong more disappointed when he sees Zuko's performance sparring with you."
"It should be fine, so long as he's strong enough when it's needed."
"That isn't how my nephew will take it. His disappointment in himself will fuel further negativity and self-doubt."
"Then I'll just have to make him angry at me."
Iroh turned in surprise. "I'm not sure that's a good idea."
"It's worth trying out. I'm going to slip off to the spa in town." She ran to fetch her coin pouch and was more giddy with every step. I'll come back smelling like roses while he's been getting char-roasted by Jeong Jeong.
Afternoon in late summer blazed. She jogged across the outer courtyard and through the gates, twirling a parasol above her to keep off the worst of the heat, while the guards made futile offer for a carriage or palanquin. I hardly ever go out by myself anymore since he always insists on escorting me or assigning a guard detail. Katara leapt down the stairs jumping one-by-one childishly with the coins in her bag chiming muffled by the layers of fabric. Though the palace was in the center of Caldera City, it was closer to the upper district than Ba Sing Se's layout, and a quarter hour later she arrived at the spa she'd visited last summer before their departure for the library. The staff recognized her—she was still the only member of the Water Tribe living in the city—and gave her an immediate spot for the sauna and massage table.
Sitting on the cedar bench in a private booth, she breathed in the scent of warmed wood and eucalyptus-traced steam. Right now he's probably getting pushed in the mud and having his hair lit on fire. With the door closed she felt true seclusion for the first time in a long time as there were always guards stationed at the palace and accompanying them everywhere else they went. Even their official wedding ceremony had felt simultaneously rushed and stifled, held three months before in early summer on an auspicious day by their superstitions with few others than his family attending. He'd looked stiff and miserable through it, and she'd felt a bite of resentment ever since that he couldn't show the rest of the world the smile he lavished on her in private.
Kicking back, she laid flat across the bench and relaxed herself.
Two hours later she returned as she'd come, strolling leisurely on the path back. The parasol was folded in and the sun was setting cool mauve and pink through the sky. She reached the gate and jumped when the guard blew a whistle. "What are you doing?"
"Sorry for startling you, Firelady, but I was ordered to inform the Firelord when you were sighted."
"What, he was looking for me?" She lost the relaxation the spa had gained as the crimson form of her husband ran towards her. "Zuko, did something happen?"
"Where were you?" he demanded, and pulled her into a smothering hug. "You can't just go out by yourself."
"I always have."
"It's different now. Just, don't, please," he begged, and she felt guilty for trying to make him angry. Even if she thought the paranoia was unwarranted, his concern was genuine. "Are you okay?"
She tried not to blush in front of the guards as he led her by hand back to the perceived safety of the palace. Once inside, he wouldn't relent in fussing and caressing her until she pulled him into a deep kiss so his mind pulsed with quite another instinct. "You're overbearing," she chided.
"I'm worried. A lot of people have a problem with you taking the role of Firelady. Just take your own safety more seriously, please, for me." He rubbed her upper arms like checking that she was really unharmed. Ugh, why is making him angry so hard now? He was angry all the time when we first met. As she grumbled, he kissed her forehead and moved to her ear, then neck, but finished with only a tight hug. "Something did happen, actually. Aang sent a note that he wants us to meet him somewhere, a harbor in the Earth Kingdom. He didn't elaborate, but we should probably go if he's made the request, since he wouldn't do so lightly."
"Is he okay?"
"He seems to be, but mentioned he needs our help as soon as we can make the trip."
That's why Zuko is so needy—we'll be off and gone by the morning. The last night in a familiar bed passed with dinner forgotten, dessert in their laps on the linen, his taste still lingering at her lips and hers on his, complimented by egg custard and walnut cookies with the sweat drying on their backs. He lifted a hand to pull her hair behind her ear, newly tangled and damp, and she didn't have the energy to find what she'd done with her comb. In the morning he brushed out what he'd caused to her while she sat cross-legged in the cool morning sunlight, toying with his bracelet in her hands while he worked.
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The harbor town was on a crest-bitten coastline with whitewater perpetually lashing the bare stone crumbling into the ocean. The surrounding area was heavily forested and the mist laden heavy with scent of pine. Cool air graced them after the long summer of the Fire Nation and Zuko thought the mist resembled the conditions on his ship, where oceanspray always accompanied each gust of wind and one was never truly dry. A jumble of unofficiated ships cluttered the harbor, repairs in patch-jobs and piecework, tethered wherever they could find an open dock. The pathways through the port led in hardened dirt below a canopy of evergreens covering the structures and obscuring the grey sky. Rain misted and she refrained from bending it off their shoulders at his request. Zuko, not knowing what to expect, had a hood and eyepatch per the letter's suggestion, perhaps well-informed as the locals dressed similarly, covered and standoffish in dark cloaks and hidden weapons.
He took her arm to lead her walking close beside him as they searched through the pathways in evening darkness. Appa can't be around the area or there would be uproar. Did he take a ship here? He didn't like the way loitering men looked at Katara. A public servant with a prominent hunch dragged himself to each stone lantern along the pathway, lighting a pale yellow lamp in each barely sufficient to illuminate the ground. Dense trees prematurely blocked the remaining daylight and cast them to dark grey.
They heard a bird-whistle and looked to each other, mutually agreeing to check it out. To the rear of a wooden boarding house was a clearing of trampled-dead grass in lantern-light. "Well, you certainly took long enough getting here," came the chillingly nostalgic voice. Azula pulled her hood down and inclined an arrogant look to them. Beside her, Jet, in a dark-green jacket tattered at the hems, held a cast iron lantern flickering with a flame pulsing between yellow and blue-white.
Bristling crackles of dry leaves expanded above them. The pineneedles deadened to brown snow falling from the branches as Katara drained the water from them gathering it to her. "Wait," Jet said, and flinched when she looked at him with sharp animosity.
"What have you done with Aang?" she demanded.
Azula answered in an unbothered voice, "Nothing. We don't even know where he is, in fact. I'm the one who wrote the letter. It's a good forgery, isn't it?"
"You? How? This is his handwriting! How did you get out of prison?"
"Good behavior. Remember, I spent a few days flirting with him; he even gave me quite a touching poem he'd written. I'm familiar with both his handwriting and manner of speech." She turned her attention to him. "You can stop reaching for those toothpicks on your back. We're not here to fight."
Zuko paused with his hand on the dao hilts, not even cognizant of having been making for them. His sister had her arms crossed and the flame in the glass panes, though certainly being affected by her, had remained small and calm. "Why did you lie?" The misting rain began to grow heavier and Azula replaced her hood while Jet stood seeming impartial to it.
"We needed your help but couldn't ask directly," she said as if put out to need to explain something she thought obvious. "After all, she hates Jet and you don't trust me, do you? Look at your body language."
"Help with what? What was so important?"
"Don't get me wrong, I'm not asking for a favor. This benefits you as well." As she answered, Jet set the lantern down and stepped back from it as if wanting to be out of the light's reach. He looked miserable and wouldn't meet their eyes. She continued, "There's an organized crime ring operating from Ba Sing Se we've become aware of, but their roots spread far, even as far as the Fire Nation. We know they're involved in human trafficking, and we think they are connected to other industries as well. I know some of the nobility in the Fire Nation like to entertain themselves with, let's call it 'exotic flowers.' There are a few brothels that specialize in it. During the war they developed a taste for foreign women, and the secession of that war won't dampen their appetite so easily."
"No, that can't still be happening. I ordered a thorough investigation made. The army—"
"Zuzu, who exactly do you think it was who developed that taste to begin with? The army did. The nobility certainly were not raiding Earth Kingdom villages and harvesting flowers to sample."
If that was true they couldn't turn down Azula's offer to investigate. It would be a matter of honor to Zuko's rule to find the people who had betrayed their laws. He was aware Jet was highly ranked in the Earth King's court and certainly despised his sister more than anyone—if he was okay with her being there, her release must have been legitimate. He fumed and wondered when it had happened and why he hadn't been informed.
Katara, still distrustful and retaining the water she'd gathered, asked, "If you think they're being held in establishments in the Fire Nation, why did you call us out here?"
"I said that was one customer base. I never said that was the end of the story. As it happens, this port is famous for being something of an international crime hub. Think of it as the Ba Sing Se of piracy outfits."
"Fuck," Zuko cursed. "You called us out here knowing that?" If the Purists had hired an assassin, if they knew the controversial foreign-blooded Firelady was out in easy reach…
"Language," she admonished. "Does Uncle know you speak that way?"
"I was banished to a ship for six damned years. Where do you think I learned it?" Meanwhile, Katara abandoned the water she'd drained from the pine onto the ground, though whether that was from new trust developing or the intensifying rain making it needless, he couldn't say. She began sheltering them both from the rainfall, though didn't extend the courtesy to the pair.
Azula continued, "You've been to this port before, haven't you? I'd wager you've visited most which would accept a Fire Nation vessel." He chewed the inside of his cheek in irritation. Accepting that as an answer, she continued, "We can't cover enough of the possible outlets on our own. Are you familiar with where we could start to look? This one here never had so much as a spare copper piece in his life," she said, and gestured to Jet. "And I've certainly no experience in red light districts."
"I don't have 'experience,'" he was quick to say with Katara standing beside him. "Some of the crew made visits, but only clean places and no girls unwilling."
She wasn't as convinced. Katara teased him, "Oh, no experience at all?"
"No! Look, I don't know about it," he began to say, then paused in thought. "Wait. Katara, you remember that girl in the desert?" They briefly explained.
Azula commented, "Oh, the Si Wong Desert? That's a far way from here. I was hoping to start locally. Of course, I already know a good initial lead, but I thank you for playing along, Zuzu. I always wondered what you got up to on your world tour."
"Shut up. If you already know where to look why did you need us here?"
"For your wallet. Experienced people in this trade are difficult to persuade with violence alone, but a bit of gold will oil the hinge."
He scowled at her. "If I recall, the Earth King isn't a pauper."
"We can't go to him," replied Jet. He didn't look in the mood to explain. Gone was the charisma and the aggression, and what remained in his expression was guilt and torment. "These are innocent people at risk. Will you help?"
Zuko replied, "I can't very well not intervene, now that we know about it. You could have given us more warning about your intention. We came here thinking we were meeting up with a goofy monk, not investigating an international crime ring."
"I gave you warning. I told you to show up in disguise, didn't I?" She gestured to his eyepatch. "Shabby, but I suppose that's satisfactory. If only Father had chosen a location easier to conceal."
Just when he thought she might have turned over a new leaf and developed some morality, she jabbed into an old wound. He suppressed his inner heat and tried not to react, though Katara, not fooled, placed a hand on his back reassuringly. His sister, however, was in fact different, off her game and weakened as if sick. He wasn't the same person he used to be, either, and she wouldn't find him so easy an opponent a second time. Further, he wasn't alone against her—Jet, transformed unkindly by her hand, looked ready even then to kill her at a wrong move and never let her out of his sight.
"Fine," he said. "Who am I paying?"
She threw a thumb behind her towards the building. Night was set and light poured out of the water-streaked windows along with rowdy voices and the clinking of bar-glass. Even from that distance it stank of alcohol. Without further delay she turned and led them inside the building, a large bar where it seemed fights were not merely incidental but encouraged. Zuko tried to refrain from clutching Katara too protectively. They took seats in a corner booth, somewhat secluded, with their backs to the wall able to view the festivities. Azula fell into her seat with a suppressed whimper and her eyes screwed in pain. Zuko wondered if it was an act, but begging for sympathy wasn't in her style.
A young waitress in a revealing outfit with a knife belted at the small of her back came to take their orders, looking relieved they appeared to be couples and she wouldn't risk being groped by the typical clientelle. Her weapon was scratched and worn as if she'd put it to much good use in her career. After taking their order she left to the back.
Azula pointed out a woman with long black hair in the center of the bar at the heart of the action. A crowd of grubby, rough men surrounded her and they were loudly sharing drinks and stories like old friends. "You're paying her. She might look delicate, but she's one of the most accomplished bounty hunters around."
"She has prison tattoos and spends her time hanging out in a bar when she's not hunting down human merchandise," said Zuko. "Why do you think we can trust her?"
Azula replied, "Women's intuition." The waitress returned with drinks and they paused conversation until she left. "She owns a vicious-looking animal she treats with the gentleness one shows a child. She has a good fundamental character."
"What would you know about that?"
"That hurts. I'm good at reading people. Besides which, do you think she would be doing this job if she had the money not to? She's around thirty-five or forty. At her age she'll be beginning to think of her retirement options. No one wants to work a physically demanding job into old age, much less a single woman."
"And why should she trust us? For all she knows, we want to send her back to that prison."
Azula reached over the table and grabbed his eyepatch, ripping it off. He covered his eye with his hand and whispered sharply, "Azula, what the hell are you doing? Are you crazy?"
"Oh, hush. You want to know why she'll trust us? We have the Firelord here. You've managed to make that mark lighter, maybe you've gotten your hands on some really good skin crème, but it's a brand strong as ever to your identity. I think she'll like you and your treasury account."
He ripped the band of fabric from her and put it back on with his heart in his throat. "Fine, we'll approach her when she's alone, but for fuck's sake be reasonable. Half the criminals in the Earth Kingdom are in this bar."
They passed several hours drinking, trying not to surpass their own limits. Katara, cuddled up beside him, was flushed and wrapped her hand around his arm, alternating between playing with his bracelet and toying with his hair. She was on his left side so, unfortunately, it was easier for him to behold the sight of his sister antagonizing Jet by pretending to come onto him, pressing her thigh against his, or rubbing his chest in feigned admiration of his physique. He wouldn't be surprised if he snapped and tore the bar apart before night's end as he looked at her with as much desire as for a horn-toad caked in roadside mud. It did, however, keep suspicion off of them as they appeared to any outsider to be two couples on a double-date. The female bounty hunter kept a heavy pace the entire duration, pounding them back with her only breaks being a trip to the powder-room to make room for more liquor and periods of arm-wrestling or private conversations.
Just as he was afraid that the woman's endurance would exceed their own, the bar announced they were closing and called last round. Zuko nudged Katara, who was beginning to fall asleep leaning on him, and they watched carefully and prepared themselves. When she left they paid their own tab and followed her out. The village was densely wooded and the night dark with the stars and moon obscured by tumbling grey clouds. Heavy rain pelted the dissolving pathway of coarse dirt while the wind picked up howling with an incoming storm. They followed for a while as she made her way towards a cabin on the outskirts. Abruptly she called out with full lung capacity, "Nyla! Come here!" and turned to face them with a whip in her hands.
"Wait, we just wanted to talk," he began to say with his hands in front of him to reassure her, but the ground shook as something massive peeled out from behind the cabin at breakneck speed and took a stance between them and the woman. Ferocious and breathing heavily like a wolf having scented prey, it loomed over them with its body tight and primed to lunge. Its blind face gave little expression but for its nose, pink-fleshed like a starfish wriggling as it sniffed, scrunching its snout and flicking its long tail back and forth impatiently. Its claws dug into the gritty mud and its fur saturated flat and dark.
"Oh, we can talk like this," she replied, and the beast bared its teeth. "You had plenty of time to approach me in that bar. Why wait so long?"
Azula didn't make to intervene, so Zuko stepped forward, taking off his eyepatch and raising his hands. "We wanted to buy some information from you. I'm—"
"I know who you are." She paced to the side of the animal and stroked its fur to calm it, standing quietly while they explained what they wanted. "Listen, little Firelord. If I hand over the information you want, not only will I never be able to work a job in this town, or anywhere else, again, but I'll be a wanted woman for the rest of my life."
"Then I will make sure you will never have to work again for the rest of your life. I can give you a house in uptown Caldera City and enough funds to spend the rest of your life relaxing at a teahouse."
She paused to consider it. Her lips were heavily rouged and her outfit black with a high collar. At her shoulder was a tattoo of a red snake swirled into itself, and her brown eyes were sharp and heavily lined for emphasis, resembling stage makeup, and made her look more intimidating than her slender form alone would have despite the beginning of streaking from the weather.
In the silence while she thought it over, Katara said, "They're trafficking women, too. Even young girls."
The woman's tough countenance broke. She looked upset for a moment before blinking it away. Someone doesn't end up as a bounty hunter if they had better options, and June herself might have once been… "Okay, I'll do it. But I need a ship ready to take me to the Fire Nation. And I'm bringing Nyla with me."
Zuko asked, in horror, "That beast?"
"My shirshu."
"You want to take that giant monster to Caldera City?" Zuko bit his displeasure back and gritted out, "Fine. But it is also subject to law and order. You can't release that creature into the streets to wreak havoc."
"My Snuffly-wuffly is a good girl, little Firelord. I'll have your information compiled by tomorrow night."
"You don't need more time than that?"
"I've seen a lot of things and I remember names. I have to. That's how I've lasted this long. Now, run and fetch me a nice ship, boy, and get it well stocked in liquor. I don't like ocean journeys and I won't tolerate one minute of being sober."
She and the monster continued to the cabin. Jet led them back to the inn they'd booked, where the room was strewn in dirty dishes not sent back to the kitchen yet and discarded clothing, evidently all his and not a piece of it hers. The windows had been closed against the rain and the air was stagnant. Azula hung her cloak on a rack to dry then sat on one bed and pointed them to the other. "I trust I won't wake up and hear you two busy conceiving an heir. That one was Jet's, by the way—do pardon the foul smell. As you can see, he's a complete slob." Zuko began wondering where Jet would be sleeping, in that case. Azula smiled to him and patted the bed invitingly, while Jet scrunched his face like he was about to spit and instead ripped a spare blanket off it and stomped to the far side of the room. He lied down on the floor between a pile of his own litter and scattered possessions then wrapped the blanket over himself. No sooner had they crawled into their own bed than Azula, in one motion of her hand, extinguished the lamps and cast the room into deep black, all sound obfuscated by the pattering rain.
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Katara woke up to find Zuko gone, Azula watching her curiously, and Jet cursing as he tore through his scattered luggage searching for a particular something. In murky daylight the room was even more dismal. Jet tossed a sake cup aside haphazardly and it flew to the tiled counter of the breakfast bar and shattered against the wall. As the pieces of ceramic fell they disturbed a cloud of fruit-flies gathered at a festering bowl of moldy noodles.
"Oh, isn't he dreadful?" Azula said with delight. "He's worked himself into a depression and subjected me to this pigstye for the past week. Our deposit will be forfeit."
"Shut your mouth, Fire bitch. Don't speak to her," came his harsh response. "Anyone would be miserable having to be cooped up with you."
"You'll hurt my feelings," she replied with a smile. "The uneaten food scraps you've left sitting around are beginning to rot. It stinks."
"We'll be gone tomorrow."
It smelled worse when she wasn't drunk. Katara tasted the beer at the back of her throat and ran for the bathroom, where she coughed and spat, then rinsed her mouth and washed up thoroughly, compensating for the unhygienic setting with excessive personal grooming. Gratefully the inn provided fragrancing oil which she applied to her temples, chest, and wrists liberally. When she returned to the room Zuko still wasn't back.
Azula sat cross-legged brushing her hair out while watching Jet scratch at a dried stain on his spare shirt. He glanced up, met her eyes, and threw the garment down self-consciously. It looked like he wanted to disappear but wasn't willing to leave her alone with Azula, whom he deeply distrusted. She didn't enjoy seeing him in that state and wondered what was so wrong. The shared apartment he and his friends had in the Lower Ring had been shabby but well-cleaned. His behavior was disturbing, and Azula looked like a cat still deciding whether to eat her—the mouse—or not. Katara made their bed and organized their own things while waiting, and tossed a sock out of the bedding towards Jet, who must have been missing it, trying to keep a straight face.
Zuko finally returned twenty minutes later holding away from himself a rain-soaked jacket and she almost cried in relief. He sat on the bed and said, "I've arranged everything for June's departure. I have a ship reserved and authorized the invoice. They'll collect payment at the capital treasury upon arrival and pass a note to my uncle I wrote explaining the situation. Even her transportation is going to cost a fortune since I have to buy out the entire ship to accommodate that hairy beast."
"What will we do in the meantime?"
"Shopping, maybe. I certainly don't want to sit around here all day." He gave Jet a sour look, and he responded by storming out and slamming the door behind him, a set of spare clothing tucked under his arm. He addressed his sister. "How can you stand this? You were always so prissy about cleanliness."
"I'm enjoying it greatly. By this point he's drank half his lifespan away and I'll be rid of him all the faster."
Katara asked, "What's wrong with him?"
"Oh, are you concerned? I heard you dumped him, but I guess old feelings die hard. You'll have to be on guard, Brother. He might be a donkey-goat, but you're not much better looking, yourself."
"Go to hell," he told her, and got up to open the windows as wide as they would go heedless of the rain dripping inside the margins. Sharp breeze rustled the gathered insects and cast light on the true extent of the filth. "This is disgusting. I'm asking them to send a maid to clean it out, and you can pay the fee." He went to the doorway and began shouting for assistance, not willing to leave her alone with his sister just as Jet wasn't. She crossed her wrist over her nose to breathe in the perfume rather than the odor. A maid hastened over and entered the room, gasped, and solemnly began picking up the trash and collecting the dishes onto a tray to return. She gave him an accusatory glance. "Don't look at me. I just got here. That mop-haired swine is responsible."
He knelt on the bed and put his nose in her hair, savoring the perfume rather than the room's musk, and hugged her to himself. "If you're ready, we can go out and find something to eat that won't give us food poisoning."
"That sounds lovely." She took her bag and followed him through the door. Katara glanced back at Azula, who wrapped her arms around her knees and set to watching the maid labor quietly, and thought there was something in her eyes of just the same despondent quality that plagued Jet's psyche.