Morning did not bring reprieve. No one had fallen asleep for the remainder of the night, and Aang felt their spirits sink deeper and deeper as the sun rose.
He sat on Appa's hump, watching the skies and the sea below; once the full moon set, it had been unnaturally dark until the sun peaked over the horizon, at which point an orange sky burst forth, boasting of the coming day's good weather. The water played with the sunbeams, beckoning Aang to dive in and explore the treasures hidden in its depths. Islands and their long shadows stuck out like grey holes amongst the waves but without the harsh edges as in the light of a setting sun.
Sitting in front, Sokka held a loose grip on Appa's reins, but Aang noticed him make corrections here and there after consulting the sun. Looking back, he saw Toph, Katara, and Zuko in the saddle. Rather than draping herself over the side, Toph had chosen to rest her head against the tough leather and close her eyes. Zuko and Katara sat shoulder to shoulder, silent and still.
Katara held Momo in her lap, and her eyes were still red from crying off and on. For the moment she had stopped. She hadn't elaborated on what Hama had told her, and Zuko, wrapping one hand around Katara's side, hadn't said much either about it or how he had been treated by Hama.
Aang supposed one good thing had come out of it all: Zuko and Katara were closer than ever before. They had been enemies, then allies, and now they were friends who defended and comforted each other. Most of all, it was a relief that even though he could not set the safety of the world aside for Katara, at least she had a friend in Zuko who could afford to.
"We're close, I think!" Sokka yelled over his shoulder. "Not too long now!" He pointed. The faded dark shapes taking up much of the far horizon to their right indicated the end of the bay that lied at the heart of the Fire Nation; however, straight ahead where Sokka was pointing was a mountain range topped with two volcanos that reminded Aang of Momo's perked ears. White, fluffy fog covered much of the land around the base of the volcanos and mountains, only adding to his mental image.
Aang looked back at the others. It was good to see them rise from their depression at the thought of reuniting with Hakoda and the others. Hopefully the tribesmen fared better since they had split up.
Then he was reminded of the purpose of them reuniting and a shock of fear ran through him. What day is it? How many days until the invasion? Would he be up for the task? Then the answers came rushing back. Four days. Four days until the invasion. And, taking a breath, he shut his eyes tight and answered himself: I am ready.
Shortly after, Aang took control from Sokka while he consulted his map. He had Appa lower their altitude until they drifted just above the fog. As they drew closer to the island, the dark smokestack of a Fire Nation ship rose from the fog. It was smokeless, and the boat lied dead in the water.
As Appa descended through the fog, a few Water Tribesmen yelled warnings when they spotted his massive body touch down on the deck of their ship. But their worried cries turned into cheers when they recognized him for what he was and whom he brought with him. They crowded around Appa, and Aang felt their excitement infect him. He hopped down from Appa, all smiles.
The others took longer to dismount, but they too were happy by the reception. Both Sokka and Toph waved, and Katara let loose a faint smile. Zuko stood near where he initially stepped off of Appa, seemingly frozen by their treatment of him.
Other than excitement, the air also felt charged with nervous energy. The invasion was getting closer, and they were now in the staging area. It was becoming all too real. They were doing this. Aang let out another breath.
Stepping out from the group of tribesmen was Bato. He held out his arms. "Welcome back! I hope your training has gone well."
"It…went." Aside from the obvious mistruth of the real reason why Aang initially left, he had no desire to speak about what happened with Hama.
"It went as smoothly as it could," supplemented Sokka with a wry grin. "It is us, after all." The two men grabbed each other's forearm in greeting. "Sorry about getting here late. We got held up."
Bato grinned back. "I'm sure it'll make a good story. I'll let you tell it in your father's presence first." He led them to the side of the ship, the side they performed the Ocean Giving not that long ago. Similar to the boat used in the ceremony, another, this one half-full with supplies, lied ready to be lowered into the water.
Pausing, Bato looked over them more closely. He gestured to Zuko's arm. "Will you be okay to fight?"
Zuko nodded. "Nothing could stop me."
"I'll do some healing sessions on him, too," added Katara.
This seemed to appease him, and he ushered them into the small boat. Two tribesmen pulled at the ropes attached to its ends, lifted them up to clear the short rail that ran along the side, and lowered them into the water. "Other than that, I trust everyone is well?" Bato asked.
"We could have flown on Appa," Aang interrupted. "He's faster and bringing one more person to shore isn't that bad." While he was curious to hear what happened to Katara and Zuko while the rest of them were freeing the captives, it seemed to be something only their small group should know. It wasn't like it was a secret and, yes, Bato was basically Katara's family, but was it that wrong to not want to talk about it?
"Yes, we could have," agreed Bato, pulling out the oars and starting to row at an easy pace, "but I wanted to take advantage of this time away from unwanted, prying ears. Is there anything we need to know? Anything we need to prepare for?" The small group looked back at each other, trying to put into words what had happened since they last saw Bato and Hakoda.
Toph nudged him. "Aang? Don't you have something to say?"
"What?"
"The Fire Lord?" she mumbled through her teeth.
Oh! "I've decided I'm not going to kill the Fire Lord." Bato's arms ceased rowing, and he looked at him with an indiscernible expression. It wasn't a good look, whatever it was. Waves lapped at the wooden sides of the boat, and they all rhythmically rose and fell with the movements of the ocean. "I still want to go ahead with the invasion but—"
"What?" Bato's face had become expressionless and his voice emotionless.
"I…I don't want—I'm not going to kill him. We have another plan, though. We'll move him to a prison—"
Like him, the others tried to explain: "It's a good plan," said Sokka. "Hear him out."
Bato's eyes went from him back to Aang, and he resumed rowing. "When did you decide this?" Though he had kept his composure in check, his intense stare bore down on Aang.
He answered quietly: "While we were away training."
"Have you mentioned this to anyone else?"
"No, we really haven't talked to anyone—"
"Good." Lifting his eyes to Sokka, he said, "We'll see what your father says. I'll tell you this now: he won't be happy."
"Aang doesn't answer to him," Katara reminded him coldly.
"No, he doesn't," he answered with equal warmth, "but it does change our strategy. Four days before… La and Tui keep us." He rowed some in silence and then, softening his tone, he said, "Okay, tell me this plan of yours."
-o-0-
They arrived on shore and at camp. Toph sensed a group of six tribesmen was there to receive the boat, and they began to pull it deep into the sand. Without offering, Katara bended the water to help, and the boat ended up completely out of the water and onto the beach. Sokka whispered, "A little far, Katara."
Bato led them through the lines of tents. There were more than she expected given the men she had counted on the Fire Navy ship when they had left. Sokka had mentioned there would be more men meeting them right before the invasion, but there had to be more than a couple hundred tents. As they traveled deeper into camp, the tents drew close to one another, and more people spotted them, evident by their quick intakes of breath as they passed.
They came to a larger tent, one filled with a large table and several men surrounding it. Toph recognized the voices of Hakoda and some of the strategists from the ship.
"Wait here," Bato ordered, holding a hand back. Then, thinking on it, he said, "Sokka, come with me."
Toph crossed her arms. "Why does he get to go in?"
"He gets to go in because he attended every meeting with Hakoda that he could when you were on the ship. I thought he would be the best person to give your case instead of me—or are you offering?"
She couldn't blame him for his answer, but it still felt unfair. She gave a small half-smirk and replied coolly, "I'm okay."
"I'm fine with having them there, Bato. Really," said Sokka.
"I think it's best if they aren't."
"It's okay," Katara said, nodding to Sokka. The four of them waited outside as the two men entered. The other men inside the tent left shortly after. "Can you tell what's happening?" Katara whispered to Toph with Aang and Zuko within earshot.
The sand was messing up her ability to sense more than general shapes, and the voices coming from inside were now low enough to be unheard. She crept forward to get a better sense of what was going on.
Hakoda hugged his son in a reunion, but Bato said something which ended it short.
"Bato says he has new information to share," Toph relayed.
"That was fast," Katara commented. She, Zuko, and Aang had followed and were waiting by her side.
"He doesn't waste time," agreed Toph. "Shh. Hold on." Having retreated back to the table that laid at the center of the tent, Hakoda paced. "He's not happy. He's asking them for an explanation. Sokka's answering." Sokka was definitely nervous and a little scared if his heartbeat and voice were anything to go by. He was explaining the plan and pointing at things on the table.
Toph jumped back. They followed her retreat to where they stood previously. Toph said, "You're up, Zuko."
"What—?"
"Prince Zuko!" Hakoda's voice boomed from inside the tent before the covering flew open with a snap. "I need you for a moment."
Aang patted him on the back. "Good luck."
Zuko entered the tent and the remaining three advanced on the tent again. "They're pointing at the table again. There must be a map," she reported. Hakoda was pacing again. Then he slammed his fist down, and they all started at the sound. "He's really not happy." Fear began to prick the back of her neck. Hakoda could get frustrated, but angry? Neither Katara nor Sokka mentioned him having a temper. "Back. Back!"
They returned to their original spots as Hakoda threw back the tent flap again. Zuko exited. "Avatar Aang. Come." Toph could feel him gulp before he proceeded into the tent.
When Zuko passed by he whispered, "Good luck."
"What did he say?" asked Katara when he returned to them.
"He wanted to know where the Boiling Rock is."
"So he's considering the plan?"
"He doesn't have much choice, does he? If Aang won't kill the Fire Lord, no one will." Zuko tried running his hand through his hair but stopped and let it fall back to his side. "He's trying to make it work."
"He's making the right decision—Aang is, not killing him." Where she had been hesitant before, Katara was no longer. For good or bad, she had finally committed. Better that than trying to appease everyone.
Hakoda's voice started up again. "Shh!" Listening to Aang and Hakoda, Toph said, "Okay, Hakoda's calmed down now… He's asking Aang why he changed his mind. You should hear him try to explain. Oh…"
"What?" Katara and Zuko said in unison.
She felt the tears choking his voice as he tried to answer in the face of Hakoda's piercing questions. "He's upset." It wasn't that Aang shouldn't be questioned—she had her own issues with the plan—but getting angry at Aang didn't help, even she knew that.
"That's it. This is ridiculous." Katara strode to the tent's entrance, but didn't open it. "Come on," she said to them. Zuko nodded quietly and obeyed, and Toph didn't need to be asked twice to burst into the tent.
Aang started when they entered. "Katara!"
"Katara, wait outside," Bato said, already trying to shepherd them out, but Zuko moved and put his body between the two of them.
Katara attacked her father first: "Does it matter why Aang doesn't want to kill Ozai?"
Hakoda took his hands off the table he had been leaning over and shook his head. "Nothing's changed! What happened that changed his mind? Why does he think the Fire Lord isn't worth being killed now?"
He must have been looking at Zuko because Katara, with more venom, said, "Oh, don't look at him; he's got nothing to do with it!"
"That's what I'm trying to piece together."
"It doesn't matter!" she repeated.
"So we can't talk about it?"
"No!"
"Katara," Aang waved a hand to draw the attention to himself. To her dad, he replied, "Nothing did change except I finally said what I believed. I never wanted to kill him. I just…I just didn't want to let you down, that's all."
Hakoda walked around the table and took a knee in front of Aang. He spoke slow and with intention: "I recognize that you are the Avatar, and I will adapt our strategy for you. But why? Help me understand. Why shouldn't he be killed? Why is this the only way you think there is?"
Aang bowed his head, chin to chest, before lifting it again to look at them all. "You aren't the only one to ask me this, and for a while I had trouble putting it into words, but I think I can explain it now. You see, my people, the Air Nomads, we believed—believe, sorry." Shaking his head, he began again, stronger this time: "We believe that life and death are linked by air. We breathe and cry when we're born, and we let out our last breath when we die. Breath gives life. We've always valued life, which is why we don't kill or eat anything that breathes. Ozai, as bad as he is, is a life. Alive."
"He's going to be responsible—" interrupted Hakoda, sharing Toph's own concerns.
"For people's deaths if he isn't stopped," finished Aang. "I know. Ozai's ancestors killed my whole nation. He's killed a lot of people from your nation too." He took a breath. "I want him stopped, and I want him stopped permanently too. It's just your way is to end a life and mine is to spare one. Killing him won't take back what he's done; it'll just turn us into murderers."
"You speak as if you aren't in the presence of murderers and that they aren't your allies." Hakoda's heart beat steadily but fast.
"I…I know you've fought for years—your people fought for generations. I'm not saying you're bad or anything. I've hurt people in self-defense, maybe even worse than that, I don't know…" His heart sped up. "But I'm the Avatar and a born airbender; I'm not only fighting to restore balance to the world, but also to preserve what's left of my culture. If I kill Ozai…"
You don't have to kill him. And, as if Toph had spoken her thought aloud, Bato stepped forward. "If the problem is you killing Ozai, I will gladly do it in your place."
"No, you don't get it," retorted Aang. "As the Avatar, dealing with the Fire Lord is my responsibility. What we do, how we treat him, is important; it's part of restoring the balance, not just stopping him. Please…trust me on this."
Aang's fast heartbeat had slowed and so had Hakoda's. The seasoned warrior let a sigh out through his nose and shook his head. "You don't make our jobs any easier, you know, but I understand now—no trust necessary." He faced Aang straight on, and Toph imagined them silently communicating through looks. Then he stood. "We'll show you where you and your air bison can stay." He held out an arm, and they all filed out of the tent, Bato and Aang in front, then Toph, Katara, and Zuko, with Hakoda and Sokka bringing up the rear.
They returned walking down the rows of tents and turned right at a fire that smelled distinctly like rotting meat—A leatherworker?—and walked parallel to the sound of the lapping waves along the shore. "We wanted to make sure your air bison had enough room," said Bato. "It's up here a little ways…"
"You did a good job in there." Hakoda had his arm around his son's shoulder as they walked behind Toph. Sand turned into tough earth as they walked up an incline, raising Toph's range of perception.
"I did?" Sokka asked, once again a little boy starved for attention. It was easy to make fun of, but Toph held her tongue.
"Yes, you adapted to the needs of your team and came up with a viable plan. Too many people can point out a problem, but it takes a special person to recognize a problem and come up with a solution."
She didn't need to see to know Sokka was beaming, and he sheepishly replied, "Well, Zuko helped."
"Zuko," Hakota called, and Zuko slowed to match the father and son's pace. "Thank you for your support. We'll need more of it soon if we're going to implement Sokka's plan."
Dipping his head, Zuko awkwardly accepted the praise. "I want to help. Uh, Hakoda…"
"Yes?"
"You didn't mention anything about my uncle. He said he'd meet us."
"Yes," he agreed, but in a heavy kind of way that indicated bad news was coming. "I haven't heard anything from him."
"Oh."
"He's likely alright," he lied, "and we're hoping to hear from him before the invasion."
"Will you tell me if you do?"
"You will be the first I tell."
"Thanks."
Bato's voice fought for and won Toph's attention as they slowed, walking up a steeper part of the hill: "…doesn't hurt that you're out of the way. A lot of the men, the ones you didn't meet on the ship, would likely try to bother you by asking for a blessing or to just see the Avatar." Bato stopped and swept his arm across the grassy rise. "It's not much, but you'll be close enough for us to keep an eye on you, and you'll have time and space for training."
"But first, please rest. I know you've likely had some adventures of your own," Hakoda said, stepping away from his son and addressing them all, "but you're no good to us, or to yourselves, tired. If you're up to it, we'll have a meeting in the afternoon before dinner to discuss these new changes to the plan. But, please, rest first. Rest assured that you won't be bothered; the men are under strict orders to leave you alone."
Katara, sounding offended, asked, "You don't want to hear what happened to us? We've been gone for almost two weeks!"
"I want nothing more than to sit down and talk," Hakoda tiredly replied. "But stories can wait. I want you to rest first. We'll speak at dinner." Katara didn't answer and turned away. "Come, Bato. Let's leave the children to themselves. See you soon," he said, nodding to them before the two men left. Just before they passed beyond Toph's range of hearing, he whispered to his friend, "What did I do wrong this time?"
"He's right," Sokka said to the others after the two men left. "We're no good trying to do anything now. We flew through the night—and this is after everything that happened with Hama."
Aang flopped to the ground. "But it's morning!"
"So?" Toph said.
"We should try to sleep," Katara said. She turned back and took hold of Zuko's good arm. "I need to heal you first."
"I'm okay. You're too tired."
"I slept some last night," she lied. "It won't take long."
Zuko rubbed his face and mumbled, "Why do I try to argue?"
-o-0-
Flashes of light shone through the trees. Though Katara didn't feel herself move, her perspective did, and it jumped in and out of moonlight and shadow at different angles and speeds in a dizzying whirlwind.
Then it halted, hardening the image in her head: moonlight hitting leaves and turning them silver. It sent a shiver up her spine like an omen of death.
Danger. Someone's here. As the thought entered her mind, she turned and heard rather than saw a figure standing amongst the tree trunks. The trees themselves were young and thin, so the figure's form—more of a feeling and a shadow than anything else—stood out as something oppressive and heavy and old.
It was coming for her.
Katara tried to run, tried to turn away. In a blink of an eye, the shadow was upon her, still featureless despite the moonlight. It was perhaps a step or two away, and it strode closer about to seize her. A voice, rough and directionless, enveloped her: "You are mine."
-o-0-
A small gasp escaped Katara's lips as she jerked awake. Her cheeks were wet and she wiped the tears away, leftover fear still gripping her heart. The dream faded and the real world, whose sky was darkening at the end of dusk, eased back into her mind. What was initially a comforting revelation turned into worry and fear again.
The others didn't know. They didn't feel what she had felt or how it hounded her. It was an open wound: sensitive to the slightest touch. They didn't know how much she wanted to explore bloodbending and the possibilities it held, or how much she feared this gnawing urge to try again.
"Are you okay?"
She started a little at Zuko's voice. He had lain next to her with the rest of them near Appa, but he now propped himself up on the elbow of his good arm. Katara had tried soothing the muscles and tendons around his injured shoulder but it was impossible to tell if she had made a difference. Maybe with bloodbending I could—No!
"Katara?"
"Oh! Sorry. Yes. Yes, I'm okay. Had a nightmare."
He nodded knowingly. "Do you remember it?"
"Kind of, but not really." Eager to change the subject, she broached, "You said you don't remember yours."
"No. I'm glad of that, though."
A memory of the feeling it gave her remained, filling her with dread. She sat up, and Zuko mirrored her, evidently sensing something else, something bigger, was coming that required his full attention. "Do you think Hama…" she began. "Do you think she started off bad? You know, hurting people?"
Brow knit together in thought, Zuko didn't reply immediately. "I know she went through a lot," he said slowly, "but I don't think anything justifies controlling and attacking people who didn't do anything to her."
His questioning look of Why do you ask? pressed itself upon her, but Katara ignored it. "She told me the first time she bloodbended she was escaping prison. She'd been caught, you know, and they were slowly torturing and killing her." She watched Zuko carefully, trying to sense his thoughts but her own were too distracting to come to any conclusion. She pushed forward recklessly: "Do you think that's what made her evil?"
He blinked. "What did?"
"Bloodbending?"
Again, he blinked and frowned in confusion. "No. Why would it?"
"It's just I—I understand now, Zuko; I felt it. I felt the power she was talking about. It was like I could do anything…to anyone. It—it scared me, but also…" she ended quietly and dropped her gaze from his, "I don't know."
But she did know, in her heart of hearts. Freeing. In some way, despite what she did, a small piece of her found pleasure in it, as when every obstacle in one's path has been removed. She had been the most powerful, and no one else. She could have done whatever she wanted and no one, not even Hama, could have stopped her in that moment. But this was also what Hama wanted: to pass down the secret to her dark power and had forced Katara to learn it out necessity.
And Katara had enjoyed it.
Shame and fear and the feeling that she has lost some innocent and good part of herself welled up and overflowed. Tears fell from her cheeks, and she hastily wiped them away. "I—" She tried to change the subject, to draw Zuko's attention elsewhere, but her mouth wasn't obeying.
"You saved us," Zuko said softly, "but you were forced to do something terrible," he admitted.
She shut her eyes and nodded vigorously. Even he knew what she had done was wrong. Wrong. She was wrong.
She tried taking a breath, but it came as a short sob that shook her. Immediately, her body was enveloped in Zuko's. How was he so good after everything that happened? How strong he must have been to fight the darkness within him. Or perhaps she was just weak? Another sob tried to escape and she swallowed it with what was left of her energy. She bound up his clothes in her hands and pulled them toward her. All she wanted to do was press herself into Zuko, to hide in the folds of his clothes, to disappear into nothing.
She said something, maybe it was an appeal or a question, but the words were strangled in her throat along with a gulping sob. He squeezed her tighter, drawing her body up against his as if he knew her wish. And at that, she broke. Resistance and clear thought vanished in an instant, and all that remained was engulfing sadness.
She cried and calmed and cried again all the more, and Zuko, held her without pause or complaint. There was nothing anyone could say that would help, nor did she want it, but he whispered things like, "You're kind…and thoughtful…beautiful…You're so good…too good… You're strong," and other things she took to be wishful thinking. She just held onto him until she found herself exhausted and warm and half-heartedly fighting to stay awake.
Zuko adjusted his hold and whispered, "Are you asleep?"
And because she didn't want to risk answering him, she stayed silent, letting her mind be quickly whisked off into a dreamless sleep, one that was safely and carefully tended by Zuko.